Tales From a Not-So-Friendly Frenemy

by Rachel Renée Russell

  I thought for sure I’d look like I belonged on the cover of Teen Vogue magazine.

  I rushed into my bathroom, washed my face with warm water, and glanced in the mirror.

  That’s when I heard a very familiar voice screaming in horror!

  Unfortunately, the voice was MINE.

  I was screaming because my face was . . .

  NEON BLUE!!

  OMG! I looked like PAPA SMURF’S long-lost, half-human, very homely DAUGHTER. . . .

  ME, IN THE MIRROR SCREAMING!!

  I wanted GLOWING skin!

  Not GLOW-IN-THE-DARK skin!

  I was in complete shock and just kept shrieking,

  “OMG! OMG! OMG! I’M BLUE! I’M BLUE!”

  I guessed that it was from all those artificial colors in Brianna’s Very Blueberry yogurt and the grape juice.

  I tried scrubbing my face with soap, but the bright blue color would NOT come off!

  My first thought was to give up and stay home.

  I could spend the entire day just sitting on my bed, staring at the wall and SULKING !

  Which, for some reason, always makes me feel better !

  But that was not an option. I needed to take that student ID photo or I wouldn’t be allowed to attend North Hampton Hills.

  My chance to go to Paris would be RUINED !

  I scrounged around in the hall closet until I found my dad’s weird-looking SKI MASK that he wore while snowblowing during blizzards.

  I didn’t have a choice but to wear it to school to hide my blue face !

  I quickly got dressed and snuck into the kitchen, carefully avoiding my family members, and grabbed a cereal bar.

  OMG! If Brianna saw me in that ski mask, my life was going to be in immediate DANGER!

  Brianna would take one look at me, scream “BURGLAR!” and then violently attack me with a frying pan.

  And until my bruises healed, I’d be black and blue!

  And, um . . . BLUE!

  How bizarre would THAT be?!

  Anyway, when I arrived at school, every single student in the hall just stopped and stared.

  Between my chic outfit and my dad’s ski mask, I looked like a wannabe burglar with a wicked sense of fashion. I finally made it past all the gawkers to the janitor’s closet and texted Chloe and Zoey. . . .

  NIKKI: HELP!! EMERGENCY!! I’M IN THE JANITOR’S CLOSET!

  Very soon Chloe and Zoey came rushing in. They took one look at me and FROZE with their mouths dangling open.

  That’s when Chloe grabbed a mildewy mop and brandished it at me menacingly. “WHO ARE YOU? AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH OUR FRIEND NIKKI?” she snarled.

  “Listen, YOU! I have a dangerous weapon! And I’m NOT afraid to use it!” Zoey said, digging through her purse. “Wait! It’s in here somewhere!”

  Finally she pulled out her cell phone and pointed it right at me like it was loaded or something.

  “DON’T MOVE!! Or I’ll, um . . . SHOOT!!” she yelled.

  I just rolled my eyes at my friends.

  Apparently, Chloe was going to MOP me to death while Zoey recorded it on her cell phone.

  Then WHAT were they going to do?!

  Post it on YouTube?!

  “Both of you! Just CALM down!” I said. “It’s ME!”

  “Sorry, but we don’t know anyone named MIA!” Chloe said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Now, WHERE’S Nikki?!”

  Okay, I’d had quite enough. I grabbed that mop from Chloe and resisted the urge to smack her with it.

  “IT’S ME! NIKKI MAXWELL!” I yelled.

  Both Chloe and Zoey looked relieved. “NIKKI!”

  Then Zoey gave me a puzzled frown. “If you don’t mind me asking, WHY are you wearing a ski mask?”

  I hesitated, trying to come up with a logical explanation.

  But there was no intelligent way to say “I turned myself into a mutant blueberry because I wanted to look PRETTY.”

  So I decided to just stick with the facts. . . .

  “WHAT?!!” Chloe and Zoey exclaimed. That’s when I totally lost it!

  “I’m BLUE!” I wailed. “You gotta help me! I’m BLUE!!”

  But my BFFs must have thought I had invited them to the janitor’s closet for a PITY PARTY or something because I was feeling, um . . . BLUE!

  “Poor thing!” Chloe pouted. “Don’t worry! We’ll cheer you up and put a smile back on your face!”

  “Nikki is bery, bery SAD!” Zoey said in an annoying baby voice. “I tink she needs a willy big hug!”

  They both grabbed me and gave me a big bear hug.

  “Now does Nikki feel better?” Zoey asked. “Because we WUV you! We willy do!”

  “You DON’T understand!” I said, snatching the ski mask off my head. “SEE?!”

  Chloe and Zoey just stared at me in shock for what seemed like forever. Then they shrieked . . .

  “Your FACE!” Zoey gasped. “It’s like . . . cobalt blue! Sort of . . .”

  “No, it’s WAY worse.” Chloe grimaced. “It’s more like, um . . . toilet-bowl-cleaner blue! Or maybe . . .”

  “SMURF BLUE!!” Chloe and Zoey said excitedly.

  “Who CARES what shade of blue it is? I can’t take my student ID photo like this!” I muttered, flushing red with embarrassment.

  Which meant right then my face was probably a vibrant shade of purple.

  Like, grape Popsicle purple!

  I continued. “I can’t get the color off! And now I have to wear a ski mask for the rest of my life! Do you know how HUMILIATING it will be to wear a ski mask to my WEDDING?” I ranted. “WELL, DO YOU?!”

  “Nikki, just calm down!” Chloe said.

  “I’m supposed to be getting my student ID photo for North Hampton Hills RIGHT NOW! But I’m toilet-bowl blue and I look like an ALIEN CREATURE! And if I wear this stupid ski mask, I’ll look like a BURGLAR. How am I supposed to go to Paris looking like THIS? TELL ME HOW!” I screamed.

  “Girl, get a grip!” Zoey grabbed me by my shoulders to shake some sense into me. “Now explain how all of this happened.”

  “Yogurt,” I muttered, blinking back tears.

  “Wait a second! Did you just say ‘YOGURT’?!” Chloe asked.

  “Yes!” I sniffed. “I tried to make some fancy yogurt facial cream at home using Princess Sugar Plum blueberry yogurt and some other stuff. All I wanted was beautiful and radiant skin. But now I’m a blue . . . MONSTER!”

  “Toilet-bowl-blue monster!” Zoey smirked. “But the good news is that it’s just food dye, which is the same ingredient used in a lot of makeup.

  Luckily, I have a mini pack of makeup remover wipes in my purse. So have a seat and watch me work my magic! Chloe, please assist. . . .”

  CHLOE AND ZOEY CLEAN MY FACE!!

  Within ten minutes my face was back to normal. Almost! Due to my homemade facial cream, my skin was now clear and silky smooth, with a radiant glow!

  Chloe and Zoey were SO impressed, they begged to try some of my facial cream too.

  Then we rushed down to the library and made it just in time to get our student ID photos. I think mine came out SUPERcute! . . .

  Maybe my homemade facial cream will make me a BILLIONAIRE after all.

  !!

  FRIDAY—12:25 P.M.

  IN THE CAFETERIA

  Chloe and Zoey are the best friends EVER!

  Thanks to them, not only did I look like a cover model, but by lunchtime I had received a half dozen compliments on my lip gloss, eye shadow, and blush.

  And I wasn’t even wearing any!

  As Chloe and Zoey dug into the huge mound of chocolate pudding that was our lunch dessert, I suddenly had a painfully nauseating flashback.

  “EW! I’ll NEVER, EVER eat that stuff again!!” I muttered in disgust.

  “Really, Nikki? So do you mind if I ask you a question?” Chloe said.

  “You want to know WHY I suddenly HATE chocolate pudding, right?” I asked. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. Brianna has been trying to earn a cook
ing badge. And earlier this week she made this AWFUL batch of pudding that looked like mud and—”

  That’s when Chloe interrupted me. “Actually, Nikki, I was going to ask you if I could EAT your chocolate pudding,” she said as she reached over with her spoon and greedily gulped down the entire thing before I could answer.

  “BUURRP! Oops! Excuse me!” Chloe giggled.

  Did I ever mention that Chloe has the table manners of a barnyard animal?

  Zoey folded her arms. “Now I’m REALLY curious. You stopped right in the middle, and I’m DYING to hear the rest of it.”

  “Okay, if you insist.” Chloe grinned as she inhaled a deep breath. . . .

  “Chloe, not YOU!” Zoey said, rolling her eyes. “I want to hear what happened with Brianna’s cooking badge. Did she ever earn it?”

  “No! Her burnt chocolate pudding was a DISASTER! And, unfortunately, she wants to try to cook ANOTHER snack for her NEXT meeting,” I complained.

  That’s when Chloe and Zoey excitedly volunteered to come over to my house tomorrow to teach Brianna how to make their specialty . . .

  HAND-TOSSED PEPPERONI PIZZA!

  I have to admit, Chloe and Zoey’s pizzas are DELISH!!

  Although I felt really bad for Brianna, I was more worried about a SECOND cooking disaster!

  “Guys, I really appreciate you wanting to help my sister, but she can barely make a bowl of cereal. Pizza is going to be WAY too difficult for her!” I grumbled.

  “Don’t worry, Nikki,” Zoey said. “Chloe and I will basically make the pizza FOR her!”

  “That’s right!” Chloe agreed. “The three of us will be right there supervising her. What could possibly go wrong?!”

  EVERYTHING!!

  !!

  SATURDAY, MAY 10—5:30 P.M.

  AT HOME

  In spite of my BFFs’ assurances, I still had a really bad feeling about Brianna the pizza chef.

  Chloe and Zoey arrived this afternoon with the ingredients to make three pepperoni pizzas. One was for Chloe’s family, one was for Zoey’s family, and one was for Brianna.

  Zoey’s job was to make the dough, mine was to spread the tomato sauce on the dough, Chloe’s was to place the pepperoni, and Brianna’s was to sprinkle the mozzarella cheese on top. Everything was going fine until Brianna decided she wanted to do Zoey’s job.

  “Hey! I wanna throw that pizza dough up in the air just like Zoey!” Brianna squealed.

  “No, Brianna!” I said, shooting her a dirty look.

  Then she excitedly grabbed the dough. “Watch this! I’m gonna throw it really high!” . . .

  BRIANNA TOSSES THE PIZZA DOUGH!!

  “Brianna!” I yelled at her. “WHAT are you doing? Give that pizza dough back to Zoey right now, before you accidentally—”

  BRIANNA MISSES THE PIZZA DOUGH!

  OMG! I was so DISGUSTED!!

  Brianna looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy’s half-human little sister.

  Our attempt to help her make a pizza had turned into a CATASTROPHE!

  “Who turned out the LIGHTS?!” Brianna giggled.

  Then she started staggering around the kitchen like a dough-covered ghost, yelling, “BOOO! BOOOO!” as if it were Halloween or something.

  Chloe and Zoey couldn’t help but crack up at my bratty little sister’s CRAZY antics.

  But this situation was NOT a joke!

  Brianna had totally RUINED the snack she was preparing for her Scout meeting!

  AGAIN!!

  Chloe and Zoey each tried to give Brianna their pizza, but I wouldn’t let them.

  The pizzas they had made were supposed to be dinner for THEIR families.

  “But HOW am I supposed to earn my cooking badge with no PIZZA?!” Brianna whined.

  “Sorry, Brianna!” I said sternly. “But if you hadn’t been GOOFING around, you would NOT be wearing your pizza dough right now! All of this is YOUR fault!”

  So, unfortunately, Brianna didn’t earn her cooking badge by making pizza.

  But she definitely could have earned a new badge for . . .

  !!

  MONDAY, MAY 12—7:50 A.M.

  IN THE NHH OFFICE

  I barely slept last night, and by morning I was a nervous WRECK! I felt like a 105-pound bundle of jittery nerves in a chic North Hampton Hills school uniform.

  I stood in front of my mirror, plastered a fake smile across my face, and practiced introducing myself to imaginary NHH students.

  “Hi, I’m Nikki Maxwell, and I’m from Westchester Country Day Middle School!”

  “Hi, I’m Nikki Maxwell, and I’m looking forward to my week here at North Hampton Hills!”

  “Hi, I’m Nikki Maxwell, and right now I’m so gut-wrenchingly nervous, I need to find the nearest bathroom and THROW UP! Be right back!”

  But when I set foot on the campus, I forgot my nervousness. I was totally blown away again by the pure AWESOMENESS of North Hampton Hills! . . .

  OMG! It is the most FABULOUS school I’ve ever seen in my entire LIFE!

  Manicured lawns and dozens of trees give it a peaceful, parklike atmosphere.

  The interior of the school is even more impressive. The main entrance has a huge fountain that is even LARGER than the one at the mall. There are tall columns, arched hallways, shiny marble floors, elegant chandeliers, and a courtyard with a fishpond and a rose garden!

  I feel like a traitor even thinking this, but NHH makes Westchester Country Day look like a basic, no-frills daycare center!

  When I got to the office (which looks like the lobby of a luxury hotel), I filled out an exchange student registration form and handed my NHH student ID to the secretary.

  “Good morning, and welcome to North Hampton Hills!” She smiled. “So, you’re Nikki Maxwell? We have a new transfer student from your school. Do you know MacKenzie Hollister?”

  “Um, actually, I do,” I answered. “We had lockers right next to each other.”

  She glanced around the room to make sure no one was listening, leaned toward me, and then whispered, “Most of the kids here are wonderful. But there are a few you’ll want to avoid. They can be a bit . . . snobbish.”

  “Thanks! But you don’t have to worry,” I assured her. “I’ve known MacKenzie for a long time, and I’m used to her drama. I’ll be just fine.”

  The secretary blinked in surprise. “Actually, it’s NOT MacKenzie I’m warning you about. She’s such a nice, sweet girl! And friendly, too,” she gushed, and turned back to her computer.

  I just stared at that lady like she was crazy, because OBVIOUSLY we were NOT talking about the same person. Who would use the words “NICE,” “SWEET,” and “FRIENDLY” to describe MacKenzie Hollister, the most selfish, manipulative SHE-SNAKE in the world?!

  It was quite apparent that this secretary was yet another of MacKenzie’s many hapless victims. She had SLITHERED into this office and somehow BRAINWASHED this poor woman.

  “Please have a seat, dear,” the secretary said. “A student ambassador will be here any minute to give you a tour of the school. I hope you have a fun week!”

  “Thank you,” I said as I slowly backed away from her desk and sank into a large plush chair.

  My nervous stomach was starting to make garbage disposal sounds again. I suddenly felt really queasy as a wave of despair rushed over me.

  Maybe coming to North Hampton Hills was NOT such a good idea after all.

  !!

  MONDAY—11:10 A.M.

  AT MY NHH LOCKER

  I was still waiting in the school office when I spotted a gorgeous girl with auburn hair, a red designer purse, and matching stilettos.

  She easily could’ve passed for MacKenzie’s darker-haired twin sister.

  Since she was holding a sign that said WELCOME, NIKKI!, I assumed she was my student ambassador guide for the week.

  I grabbed my bag, thanked the secretary, and walked down the hall to meet her.

  My heart pounded as I took a deep breath and introduced myself just like I h
ad practiced in my mirror.

  Yes, I know!

  I could NOT believe that I actually said all of that EITHER. . . .

  “Hi, I’m Nikki Maxwell, and I’m from Westchester Country Day Middle School. I’m looking forward to my week at North Hampton Hills. But right now I’m so gut-wrenchingly NERVOUS, I really need to find a bathroom and—!”

  But I didn’t get a chance to warn her I was about to THROW UP, because the girl dropped the welcome sign and practically TACKLED me! . . .

  “My name is Tiffany Blaine Davenport, and I’ll be your guide while you’re here!” the girl squealed excitedly. “I have a feeling we’re going to be BESTIES!”

  “Um, it’s nice to meet you, too, Tiffany!” I replied as I wondered exactly WHAT she had heard about me.

  “Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, I think we should celebrate our new friendship.” She giggled as she whipped out her cell phone. “IT’S SELFIE TIME!”

  “Well, okay!” I said as I stood next to her and smiled for our picture.

  Tiffany lowered her phone and looked at me like I was a huge zit that had just popped out on her FLAWLESS face.

  “Um, SORRY! But there’s no ‘us’ in the word ‘SELF-IE’!” she quipped. “I’m so FIERCE that I need to take photos ALONE so there’s enough space in the lens to capture ALL of MY exquisite beauty! Now, be a good BFF and get out of my way, PLEASE! By the way, I love your shoes!”

  Then Tiffany gently shoved me aside in a really friendly manner.

  How DARE that girl disrespect me like that! Especially after I’d only known her for, like, THREE minutes.

  At least she was “nice” enough to let me participate in her supermodel-style selfie fashion shoot.

  I got to stand off camera and vigorously fan her with my welcome sign to create the windblown hair effect.

  Are we having fun yet?!