Dressed to Frill

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Dressed to Frill Page 3

by Chloe Taylor

“This might sound like a stupid question but . . . how?” Kate asked. “You’d have to babysit every weekend for . . . years . . . to make that much money.”

  “Well, a lot of people give money as a Bat Mitzvah gift, and I talked to my parents about using part of that toward the fridge,” Libby explained. “But since I’m not sure that will be enough, I figured I’d have a bake sale—after all, the theme of my party is Sweet, right?”

  “But even a bake sale might not raise enough,” Zoey said.

  “I know,” Libby said. “But I want to try.”

  “We can help,” Zoey said, remembering how Ivy just threw away a perfectly good packed lunch.

  “I can make stuff to sell at the bake sale!” Priti offered. She and her mom were well-known for their baking. The Holbrookes saved the day on the dessert front at Aunt Lulu and Uncle John’s surprise wedding, when the bakery making the wedding cupcakes flooded.

  “Me too,” Zoey said. “I’d rather bake than weed the vegetable patch!”

  “I can make sugar cookies with vegetable decorations,” Kate said. “Oh wait, but then people might think they taste like carrots and broccoli.”

  “Eww! Broccoli cookies!” Priti grimaced. “No, thanks.”

  “Maybe skip the veggie decorations,” Libby said with a grin. “But thanks, you guys, for offering to bake. I’m going to need all the help I can get!”

  After school, Zoey was in her room working on the dress designs for her friends. She still didn’t know what to do about Libby’s Bat Mitzvah dress. Libby’s mom was unhappy with the design as it was, and Libby didn’t want Zoey to change a single thing. Meanwhile, she really wanted to call Allie to see if they could remain friends, but she was afraid that if Marcus found out, he might feel betrayed and be angry with Zoey. And Marcus seemed upset enough at the moment without her adding to his problems.

  She sighed, putting down her pencil and gazing at the sketches. At least Kate’s and Priti’s dresses were looking pretty great. Now it was time to start playing with ideas for her own outfit.

  “Hey, Zo?”

  Marcus was standing in the doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d been running his hand through it. He’d been moping around in front of the TV and eating chocolate chips when she got home from school, and he’d barely even grunted hello when she came in, which wasn’t really like him.

  “What’s up?” Zoey asked.

  Her brother sat down on the edge of her bed and started fidgeting with the piping on one of her throw pillows.

  “I was just wondering. . . . You know how you’re friends with Allie?”

  “Well, yeah,” Zoey said. “Except I’m not sure I am, exactly, now that the two of you have broken up. It’s kind of awkward.”

  “I thought maybe . . . you could get together with her and find out, you know, what’s really going on.”

  Zoey stared at her brother. “Wait . . . you want me to spy on Allie?”

  “No!” Marcus exclaimed. “Not spy on her, exactly. Just . . . get the real scoop on why she broke up with me.”

  “But you said you were fighting and she was busy a lot.”

  “I know, but . . . we got along so well.”

  “Except for the fighting part,” Zoey pointed out.

  “But that was only recently,” Marcus said. “Please, will you do it?”

  “I don’t know. It seems kind of weird. Allie’s my friend, remember? She was my friend before you started going out with her.”

  “I know,” Marcus said. “And I feel bad asking you to do this. But . . . I really need to know what happened. It just seems so out of the blue, her just wanting to end it like this.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” Zoey sighed. “I’ll call and see about getting together.”

  “Thanks, Zo,” Marcus said. “But promise me you won’t let on that I’m upset we broke up. I don’t want her to feel sorry for me or anything.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Zoey said.

  “Cool. You’re the best.”

  “I know,” Zoey said jokingly.

  When he left the room, she stared at Allie’s name on her cell phone, willing herself to dial. Was it going to be awkward to speak to her?

  Here goes nothing, she thought, pressing the call button.

  Allie sounded happy to hear from Zoey.

  “Hi! Zoey! I . . . wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you, what with me and Marcus breaking up and everything.”

  “Did you want to?” Zoey asked.

  “Of course!” Allie said. “You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

  “I think so,” Zoey said. “I mean, I hope so.”

  “Do you want to get together tomorrow?” Allie asked. “We could go get ice cream after school.”

  “Sure!” Zoey said, relieved she didn’t have to suggest it. She really wanted to stay friends with Allie, but being a spy for Marcus didn’t feel like the best way to do it. She hated seeing her brother so sad, though, and she wanted to help him, somehow.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up after school. See you tomorrow!”

  “Yeah. See you!”

  It was a relief to hang up, pick up her pencil, and get back to noodling around with dress ideas for her to wear to Libby’s Bat Mitzvah. At least that didn’t fill her with a confusing mix of emotions!

  CHAPTER 4

  Bat Mitzvah Belles

  I’ve designed these dresses for my friends to wear to Libby’s Bat Mitzvah—sparkly for Priti and simple clean lines for Kate. I need to start getting on with my own outfit; otherwise, I’m not going to have time to make anything. There’s just been so much other stuff going on. Complicated stuff, too. Sometimes it feels like life is a knitting bag, where all the wool has gotten totally tangled up, and I wish I could just get it all rolled into neat balls again.

  Zoey picked nervously at a loose thread on her backpack as she stood in front of Mapleton Prep, waiting for Allie to pick her up. She’d never felt the slightest bit funny about hanging out with Allie before, but things were different now. Marcus expected Zoey to make this into a fact-finding spy mission instead of just a chilling-out and chatting session.

  Allie honked the horn and waved when she pulled her car up at the curb, seeming just like the friend she’d been before she and Marcus started dating.

  Maybe it won’t be so awkward after all, Zoey thought as she waved back, ran over, opened the door, and climbed into the passenger seat.

  Allie leaned over to give her a hug. “Zoey! I’m so glad we could get together! I’m really sorry about . . . you know, the breakup. It was a hard decision, and I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore. That would make everything twice as bad.”

  So why did you break up with him in the first place? Zoey wondered.

  Allie started the car and drove away from the school. “Is Poppa’s Pastry Shop okay?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Zoey said. “Their hot chocolate is the best.”

  On the way to the café, they compared notes on their respective blogs and talked about fashion, just as they always had.

  Well, not quite. . . . Zoey felt like Marcus was an unspoken presence in the backseat, urging her to find out what really happened between him and Allie.

  It wasn’t until they were sitting with their steaming mugs of hot cocoa that she finally summoned up the courage to ask.

  “Allie . . . can I ask why you broke up with my brother? It seemed like you guys really got along. Well, at least to me.”

  Her friend stared down into her mug.

  “We did get along. . . . I mean, we do get along . . . and I really like Marcus, Zo, he’s a great guy. . . . It’s just . . .”

  Allie picked up her spoon and started poking at the rapidly melting whipped cream atop the hot chocolate.

  “It’s just what?” Zoey insisted.

  “It’s just that he was getting too serious. You know, that he liked me a lot more than I was ready for. We’re young, Zoey. We’re not even out of high school. Who kn
ows what’s going to happen, right?”

  “I guess,” Zoey said. “But wasn’t he willing to slow things down?”

  “He said that, but he gave me a ring. I mean, I know it wasn’t an engagement ring or anything, but it still looked really expensive, and I felt guilty taking it from him. It felt too . . . serious,” Allie explained. “And I’m not ready for serious. I’m too young to be tied down forever.”

  Zoey was just thinking she could see Allie’s point of view—and feeling a little conflicted for doing so—when her friend’s phone vibrated loudly against the table. Allie picked it up and held it under the table to read a text message. She smiled, and her cheeks were tinged pink.

  “Can you understand that, Zo?” Allie said. “I really hope that you and I can stay friends.” Even though Allie was talking to her, her eyes kept glancing downward, and Zoey could tell she was typing into her phone.

  “How is Marcus doing?” Allie asked. “I really didn’t want to hurt him, you know. He’s such a great guy.”

  He is a great guy, Zoey thought. Except now, thanks to him, Zoey was in another awkward situation. She’d promised her brother that she wouldn’t tell Allie that he was miserable, but if she told her friend anything else, she’d be lying.

  “He’s fine,” Zoey finally said, feeling horrible about being dishonest. She had to think of a plausible activity that Marcus could be keeping himself busy with, instead of saying what he was actually doing, which was moping around the house looking sad. “He’s been . . . practicing a lot with his band.”

  “That’s cool,” Allie said, although she was looking down in her lap again, her thumbs clearly busy with her phone. “How are the mad guitar skills going?”

  “Oh, he’s getting much better!” Zoey said. “Yeah, he’s really coming along. You’ll be wishing you were still going out when he sells out an arena.”

  Allie laughed, but Zoey wasn’t sure if it was at what she’d said or if it was something Allie’d read on her phone, because that’s where Allie’s eyes were focused. “Yeah, I’m sure I will,” she said.

  It was strange and confusing to Zoey that Allie seemed more interested in her phone than in the face-to-face conversation they were supposedly having. She’d never been that way before when they hung out. Did Allie think she was boring all of a sudden?

  It was almost a relief when Allie dropped Zoey off at home. She pulled the car into the driveway, but she didn’t come in like she usually would.

  “Say hi to Marcus and your dad for me,” Allie said as Zoey got out of the car.

  Zoey didn’t say she would. She just said, “Bye—good seeing you,” and then headed for the house.

  She’d barely gotten both feet through the doorway when Marcus pounced.

  “What happened?” he asked. “What did she say?”

  “Can I at least put down my backpack?” Zoey complained. “Sheesh!”

  Marcus followed her into the kitchen and watched as Zoey put down her backpack, took off her jacket and hung it up, and got a glass of water.

  “So?” he said. “How was it?”

  “It was fine,” Zoey said. “It was a normal get-together. We talked about all the same kinds of stuff we used to talk about before you two started dating, and then I asked her why she broke up with you, and she told me the same thing she told you—that she wasn’t ready to be serious.”

  “I said I was okay with slowing down,” Marcus complained. “But she broke up with me anyway.”

  “The ring freaked her out,” Zoey told him. “A lot. I think that was what did it.”

  “I don’t understand girls,” Marcus said. “You try and do something nice, like buy them a present, and it freaks them out and makes them break up with you. Go figure!”

  He turned to head down the basement stairs. Zoey could tell it was going to be a loud night as Marcus began to take out his angst over Allie on the drums.

  The next day at lunch, Zoey told her friends about her afternoon with Allie.

  “I get that she doesn’t want to be tied down. I mean, they are still in high school,” she said. “But . . . I don’t know.”

  “What?” Kate asked. “It seems like a normal reason to break up.”

  “Maybe it’s hard to be objective because Marcus is your brother?” Libby said.

  “Could be,” Zoey said. “But . . . it wasn’t just that. It was the way she kept texting the whole time we were talking. She kept her phone in her lap, like she was trying not to be obvious, but it was obvious, anyway. And she kept blushing.”

  Zoey twisted her napkin into a little ball. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t saying anything that would have made her blush. There was one time when her face turned red, and we were talking about the new bag she’s selling on her blog. Not very blush-worthy if you ask me.”

  “That sounds pretty suspicious,” Priti said. “I bet you anything she’s seeing someone else, and that’s why she broke up with Marcus. I think the whole ‘ring present freaking her out’ was just an excuse.”

  “You do?” Zoey said. “To tell you the truth, I was wondering about that too.”

  “But you don’t know for sure,” Libby said. “It’s just a hunch.”

  “I know.” Zoey sighed. “And I don’t even want to think about it. I feel so bad—Allie’s my friend and Marcus is my brother. I don’t want either of them to be hurt. I wish they’d never started dating in the first place!”

  “But they had a lot fun while they were together,” Kate pointed out. “If they never dated in the first place, they would have missed out on that.”

  Zoey had to admit that was true. “Yeah, when Dad talks about Mom, he says, ‘’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”

  “Maybe,” Priti said. “But it’s definitely better to have loved and not have been lied to.”

  “Do you think I should tell Marcus that I suspect Allie is dating someone else?” Zoey asked. “He’s my brother, and I’d feel awful if he finds out it’s true and that I thought she was but never warned him.”

  “But what if you’re wrong?” argued Kate.

  “That would be really unfair to Allie,” Libby agreed. “And she’s your friend. Or at least I think she is.”

  “Maybe you should just keep doing detective work,” Priti suggested. “Not exactly spying, but . . . Well, just keeping an eye on things when you see Allie. In case you pick up any additional clues.”

  “Okay. Marcus does deserve to know the truth,” Zoey said. “It’s just . . . this whole situation is so awkward. It’s no fun at all!”

  “Moving on to happier subjects . . . I love the design you did for my dress!” Priti said. “It’s perfect!”

  “I love it, too,” Libby agreed. “And Kate’s is fab.”

  “I like the dress you’re wearing today,” Zoey said. “Florals really suit you.”

  “You were wearing something floral like that when we volunteered at the food pantry the other night,” Kate said. “But it was more like shorts.”

  “That was my floral romper,” Libby said. “I’m kind of obsessed with floral stuff at the moment. I really like wearing it because it makes me feel feminine.”

  “Well, it looks good on you,” Zoey said. “Maybe that’s your signature look.”

  “Like wearing black combined with lots of bling is mine,” Priti said with a dramatic arm wave that caught Zoey’s carton of chocolate milk and tipped it toward the edge of the table—and straight for Kate’s lap.

  Luckily, Kate, with her athlete’s reflexes, caught the carton before any of the liquid could land on her light tan corduroys.

  “I’m glad chocolate milk didn’t end up being my signature look!” she said.

  “Nice save, Kate,” Gabe said. “I’m impressed.” Gabe had walked over from where he was sitting a few tables away.

  Kate smiled and then put the carton on the table. “All in a day’s work,” she said.

  “So . . . uh . . . Zoey,” Gabe said, “you know I asked you a
bout helping me with home ec?”

  “Sure,” Zoey said. “What’s up?”

  “I still have to make that apron, and I need your help.”

  “Sounds like it’s time for that sewing lesson we talked about,” Zoey said. “If you want to come over tomorrow, I can show you the ropes.”

  “You’re the best!” Gabe said, looking relieved. “Tomorrow after school. Awesome.”

  As he walked back to his table, Priti shook her head. “Make sure you don’t do it for him. Dad says he wished he learned how to sew, because now that my parents are divorced, he has to pay someone to sew his buttons back on when they fall off,” she said. “Mom always used to do it for him.”

  “Maybe I should teach Dad and Marcus how to sew buttons,” Zoey said. “Dad used to send his clothes out to be fixed, but ever since I’ve learned how to sew, I’ve been doing it.”

  “It goes both ways,” Priti said. “Mom had to ask the neighbor how to use a drill when she wanted to hang a shelf in my room, because Dad had always done stuff like that. That’s why I’m glad we’re taking industrial arts.”

  Zoey wasn’t so sure. She’d rather use a sewing machine than a drill any day!

  CHAPTER 5

  Love Is a Battlefield . . . Or a Bicycle?

  Two people who I really care about, and who were dating, broke up, and it’s sad—not to mention it makes for some serious awkwardness.

  Movies and fairy tales make love look so easy. But it sure doesn’t seem all that easy in real life. I wonder why they don’t say, “Hey, being in love looks like a lot of fun, but you know what? It’s a lot harder than it looks!” Is it like riding a bicycle—the more you fall in love the easier it gets?

  Luckily for me, I’m waaaaay too busy to fall in love—or even in LIKE—with anyone. I’m also too busy to go on a bike ride. I’ve got four special dresses to make for my friend’s Bat Mitzvah!

  “Have you already started making my dress for Libby’s Bat Mitzvah?” Kate asked when Zoey got on the bus the next morning.

  “No, not yet,” Zoey said. “I made Priti’s first. But I was planning on starting yours tonight.”

 

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