Sugar, Spice, and Sprinkles

by Coco Simon

  “Thanks, Claire, but I can’t stay. I just wanted to let you know… that I have to resign from student council. I’m very sorry.”

  Claire and Vikram looked utterly confused. They exchanged a glance, shoulders raised, palms up, looking like cartoon characters who were saying, “I don’t know! Beats me!”

  “Sierra!” Claire exclaimed. “Why? We love you so much! Why would you leave us?”

  My heart felt briefly warmed at how genuinely Claire had said she loved me. It really was so nice to be liked and even loved. I couldn’t help it. But then I remembered Tamiko sitting at the table, waiting for me, and how I hadn’t stood up for Allie. I couldn’t let compliments and flattery turn me into a person I didn’t like.

  “I don’t think it’s a good fit for me,” I said diplomatically, mentally thanking Mrs. Leone for her advice.

  “Why?” asked Vikram. “You’re a great secretary. Your handwriting is so neat.”

  “Yes!” agreed Claire. “We really need you. Stay for the rest of the year, okay? Please?”

  I could see I’d have to really lay it on the line here and be totally and completely honest, the way I’d been with Isa. I was going to have to go whole hog, Chocolate Chili–flavored Sierra.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay on the council. And I really think you guys should get rid of Anti–Vista Green Day.”

  Claire bristled visibly. “Why would we do that? Anyway, we can’t. We already voted on it and publicized it. You made the posters, remember?”

  Chocolate Chili, I chanted in my mind. Stand up, speak up! Say what’s on your mind! It’s time for girls to stop being just kind!

  I probably looked like a wacko, standing there, silently running song lyrics through my head, but I didn’t care.

  I inhaled and exhaled deeply. Then I said, “Yes, I did make the posters, and I’m mad at myself for doing that. It’s a hateful theme, and I think it reflects badly on MLK and on the student council to go through with it. Vista Green isn’t the enemy. They’re another school, just like ours. This isn’t like a fun pep rally thing. It’s genuinely mean-spirited. And I can’t participate in that. Especially since one of my best friends goes there.”

  Vikram and Claire were quiet for a moment. Then Vikram said, “Well, thanks for telling us, Sierra. You’re a quitter, but at least you’re honest.”

  “Yes, very,” said Claire, looking annoyed.

  I knew I didn’t have much time left before I’d collapse into a puddle on the floor, but I used my final seconds of bravery to add, “I hope you guys will consider switching to a more fun and inclusive theme, like Throwback Thursday or something. Good luck with Spirit Week.”

  And I turned and marched back to my table, where Tamiko was waiting, looking as anxious as a mother watching her toddler go down the big slide at the playground.

  “Did you do it?” Tamiko squeaked.

  I nodded. “I did. I might faint right now, but I did it. And I feel good!”

  Tamiko burst into applause, and I prayed that Claire and Vikram wouldn’t look over and see us. The conversation hadn’t ended too well, and Claire definitely wasn’t happy with me, but I’d said what I honestly felt. I’d been polite, I’d been matter-of-fact, and I was on the side of kindness. That had to count for something.

  In fact, now that I had actually done it, I could see that speaking up and being sweet could actually go together quite nicely—with a big helping heap of courage. It was almost like one of Tamiko’s special ice cream recipes: some courage, some sweetness, and, of course, a sprinkle of happy on top.

  Tamiko got up and came around the table to give me a huge hug, right in front of the whole cafeteria. They probably all thought I’d failed a test or something. But I needed that hug right then, and I appreciated it.

  “Thanks, Tamiko. You’re the best best friend.”

  Saying that reminded me of my final problem—Twin Day, and our other best friend, Allie.

  “What are we going to do about Allie and Twin Day?” I asked. “She looked like she felt left out when we talked about it on Sunday.”

  Tamiko thought for a second. Then she said, “Well, why can’t she just dress to match us? We’ll send her a picture of us, and she can send one of her, and I’ll post them all over social media so that to the world, we’re all dressed up together for Twin Day.”

  “That’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll text her right now and see what she thinks.” I whipped out my phone and sent Allie the message, since I knew it was also her lunch period and she was allowed to check her phone.

  She wrote back within seconds. Love it! Sprinkle Sundays sisters. Thanks for thinking of me. Then, after a pause, she texted, Any other news?

  I knew exactly what she was asking. I proudly texted back, Yep—I did it. Meet your new friend, sweet Sierra, now with a little more spice.

  I’m sure I’ll love her just as much as the old Sierra, Allied replied. Gotta go. I have a quiz. Talk later!

  Tamiko and I spent the rest of the lunch period happily discussing options for our “Triplet” Day outfits. I wanted bright and colorful; Tamiko wanted handcrafted and edgy. We’d have to loop Allie in later for her opinion.

  It looked like Spirit Week wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN SPIRIT WEEK!

  After resigning from student council and resolving the Twin Day situation, I felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was able to study harder, sing better, focus on tests, and enjoy my dad’s Cuban cooking more than ever.

  I went to Isa’s soccer team finals, and when her team won, my parents took the whole family out for ice cream to celebrate. I was so proud of my sister, and I no longer had any guilt about the upcoming Twin Day. I was able to just be a good sister and help her feel special on such a momentous occasion. And I think Isa appreciated it.

  It was great.

  I practiced with the Wildflowers twice a week, and we worked hard on Tessa’s new song, until all of us knew our parts perfectly. Every time I sang it, I felt the words with my whole body. It had become my favorite song to perform, and I found myself humming it in the shower, when running drills in soccer, and even in class sometimes, which probably wasn’t so great for everyone sitting around me.

  Time flew by, and before I knew it, it was finally Spirit Week.

  In fact, it seemed that most kids at school wanted Spirit Week to be a positive event, because about a week after I resigned from student council, I noticed that new posters had been put up all over school. They changed Anti–Vista Green Day to Superhero Day and rearranged the schedule.

  I didn’t know if it was because of what I had said to Claire and Vikram, or if the school administration had made them change it, or if a bunch of students had talked to the student council, or what. But I hoped, and I chose to believe, that it was at least partially because I had stood up and said something.

  I was really happy to dress as a superhero. I went as Supergirl. And I hoped that the large S on my chest now stood for “Spicy” as well as “Sweet.”

  While sitting at lunch in my Supergirl costume with Tamiko and MacKenzie, I saw the student council heading our way. They were all in a line carrying their lunch bags, as if they were en route to a table for a lunchtime meeting together. I wondered for a second if I would feel bad that I wasn’t included anymore, but I didn’t. I felt glad to be where I was.

  “Hi!” I said as they passed by. “Great costumes.”

  I braced myself for Claire or Lee or someone to sneer at me, or just ignore me altogether. But they didn’t. They all waved at me, including Claire, and didn’t look particularly angry or upset.

  Hanna was last in line and lingered after the others had passed. When they were out of earshot, she leaned over our table and said, “Thanks for speaking up about Anti–Vista Green Day, Sierra. I agreed with you that it was a bad idea. I was just too scared to say anything.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I’m really glad it
all worked out. Superhero Day is so much fun!”

  Hanna nodded. “I’m sad you’re not on the council anymore, though. It was nice seeing you every week. You’re really kind, and I’ll miss you. I’ll have to stop by Molly’s again and visit when you’re working!”

  I was touched by Hanna’s words—especially the word “kind.” I liked being called “kind” much better than “sweet.” Being sweet just meant being pleasant, but kindness meant thinking of others.

  “I’m going to miss seeing you too,” I said to Hanna. “I hope you’ll come to Molly’s a lot!”

  “I will,” Hanna said. “It’s the best ice cream in town.” She smiled and hurried off to join the rest of the student council, who had sat down at a table in the back. Hanna hurriedly pulled out the familiar green notebook that I had carried around for so long. It looked like Hanna had stepped into the role of secretary in my absence.

  “All’s well that ends well,” said Tamiko, breaking my train of thought.

  “You sound like my mom!” I told her.

  “Mine too,” said Tamiko. “Where do you think I heard it?”

  We both laughed, and I finished up my sad-looking cafeteria lunch. It was surprisingly filling, but it still left me hungry for something else… something a little spicy and a little sweet.

  “You know what I could go for right now?” I asked Tamiko. “Some of Molly’s Chocolate Chili ice cream.”

  Tamiko, who was doing something on her phone, looked surprised. “Seriously? But you don’t even like Chocolate Chili ice cream!”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Tamiko rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sierra—you have no poker face. When you first tasted it, you looked like you’d accidentally eaten a bug.”

  I was horrified. Was I really that obvious? “Did Mrs. Shear notice?”

  Tamiko giggled. “Probably. We all did. But you said you liked it, and Allie and I genuinely liked it. So it didn’t really matter.”

  “I didn’t like it at first,” I admitted. “But then it grew on me. And now I’ve decided I need a little spice in my life! And anyway, not everyone needs to like every single flavor, right? That’s why Molly’s sells a variety.”

  * * *

  The next day was Twin Day. Tamiko and I planned to meet in the girls’ bathroom in the math hall before school to check each other’s outfits, which, at long last, we’d agreed on with Allie.

  We were all wearing Molly’s Ice Cream T-shirts, black jeans with some embroidery around the pockets (done by Tamiko, of course), neon sneakers, and our hair in two messy buns, kind of like a modern Princess Leia. Tamiko and I snapped a picture of ourselves and sent it to Allie, who sent us one of herself in return. We looked perfect!

  All day we got compliments on our outfits, and Tamiko made a point to show everyone the picture of Allie as well. Some kids thought it was a little strange that we would celebrate one of our school’s Spirit Week dress-up days with someone from another school, but most kids, especially the ones who knew Allie, thought it was really neat. After all, she was showing that she still had love and spirit for MLK!

  Vista Green and the kids who went there weren’t our enemies. It was just another school!

  Then I got an idea. “Hey, I don’t have a council meeting or, well, anything after school today! How about we meet Allie at Molly’s for some ice cream, and we can all see each other dressed up?”

  Tamiko’s fingers once again flew over her phone’s screen as she sent the invite to Allie.

  A second later her phone dinged. “We’re on,” she said. “Save room for dessert.” I wanted to see Allie in her twin outfit, of course. But I had another motive for setting up our after-school ice cream date at Molly’s. I had something special I wanted to share with my two best friends. Something I was very proud of.

  * * *

  When Tamiko and I got to Molly’s, Allie was waiting for us at a table, already enjoying a cone of Chocolate Chili ice cream.

  “Cool outfits,” she said with a grin.

  “You too,” I replied. “Someone very fashionable must have put that together for you.”

  I went over to the counter and ordered two more Chocolate Chili cones from Tom, one of the college students who worked at Molly’s during the week. He was fun and friendly, and he seemed to like working at the ice cream parlor as much as we did. All the customers liked him too.

  While standing at the counter, I leaned close and whispered, “Hey, Tom, since there’s no one else in here, would it be okay if I played a special song on the speakers? I want my friends to hear it.”

  “Sure, Sierra. Whatever you want,” Tom agreed. He went to scoop the cones, and I set my phone to Molly’s Wi-Fi network and cued up the song. I didn’t press play yet.

  A minute later I delivered Tamiko’s cone and sat down with my own. I hesitated for a second before taking my first taste, hoping I really did like it and that it hadn’t been a fluke the previous time.

  It was delicious. The new me really did like Chocolate Chili.

  Relieved, I pressed play on my phone, and the song started playing through the speakers.

  Immediately Tamiko started humming along. “Hey, what’s this song? Do you guys know it?”

  Allie shook her head. “I’ve never heard it before. But it’s catchy. I like it!”

  I didn’t respond, even though I was dying to tell them. I wanted them to figure it out themselves.

  “Wait—is this you singing, Sierra?” asked Allie. Her voice sounded awed.

  I nodded, my cheeks pink, and my smile stretching from ear to ear.

  “This is YOU?” said Tamiko, and they both fell silent as they listened to the lyrics.

  “Some people say that girls should be good,

  But I say, what good does that do a girl?

  Stand up, speak up, say what’s on your mind.

  It’s time for girls to stop being just kind!

  Some people say that girls should be good,

  But I say, what good does that do a girl?

  Stand up, speak up, to whomever you meet.

  It’s time for girls to stop being just sweet!”

  When it was over, both of my friends burst into applause. Allie clapped so hard, she nearly dropped her ice cream onto the floor. Tom whooped and hollered from behind the counter.

  “Way to go, Sierra!” he called.

  “That wasn’t you on the radio, was it?” Allie asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  I laughed. “Ha! Not yet. Maybe one day. It’s a song I recorded with the Wildflowers over the weekend. Tessa wrote the song, and we’ve been practicing it nonstop for our next gig.”

  “The song is perfect,” said Tamiko. “I just love its message!”

  I blushed even harder. I was so happy they loved the song as much as I did. “I’m glad, because Tessa wrote it for me! And it has given me so much courage. It has helped me understand that it’s okay to be sweet and also have strong opinions and defend them. I will never stand by and let someone insult one of my friends again.”

  Allie looked at me, and I could see there was almost a tear in her eye. I couldn’t believe I’d ever not stood up for her. What had I been thinking?

  “When will you get to play this amazing song for the public?” Tamiko asked.

  “Whenever we get our next gig, I guess. In the meantime, though, let’s take a selfie to remember this awesome Twin Day.”

  We all huddled together, and Tamiko took the picture. Her fingers started moving, and I realized she was preparing to post it. “What should I caption it?” she asked.

  Allie and I thought a minute. Then I grinned. I had the perfect caption.

  “ ‘Sugar, Spice, and Sprinkles,’ ” I said. “Because that’s the three of us.”

  “Hey—which one of us is the sprinkles?” joked Tamiko.

  I laughed. “All of us. We’re all a little bit of everything… sweet, spicy, brave, funny. All with a sprinkle of happy on top, of course!”

  Mo
re from this Series

  A Sprinkle of Friendship

  Book 10

  Sunday Sundaes

  Book 1

  Cracks in the Cone

  Book 2

  The Purr-fect Scoop

  Book 3

  More from the Author

  Family Recipe

  Katie Cupcakes and…

  Keep reading for a preview of

  A Sprinkle of Friendship

  by

  Coco Simon

  “Okay, Sprinkle Sundays sisters, are you ready?”

  My besties, Tamiko and Sierra, each gave a thumbs-up from behind the counter. I switched the sign on the front door from CLOSED to OPEN. “Ta-da! Molly’s is open for another beautiful summer day!”

  It was a Sunday afternoon, and Tamiko, Sierra, and I were working our usual shift at my mom’s ice cream parlor, Molly’s.

  The bell on the door jingled as our first customers of the day entered the store.

  “Let the post-day-camp games begin!” joked Tamiko, while Sierra greeted a mom and two sweaty and tired-looking little boys wearing camp T-shirts.

  “Hey, I went to Whalers Camp when I was your age!” said Sierra to the boys, and suddenly they weren’t tired at all but were chatting enthusiastically to Sierra about Spikeball tournaments and swim races and skippers-versus-captains team competitions.

  Tamiko laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know how she does it!”

  “What?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew what she meant.

  “Sierra charms everyone! That girl can’t go five minutes without making a new friend!”

  I watched as Sierra gave the boys their ice creams and then showed off a complicated Whalers Camp high-five handshake that left them all laughing. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s living proof of that saying ‘A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.’ I can’t relate! I’d pretty much always rather be reading a book instead.”