Peppermint Cocoa Crushes

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Peppermint Cocoa Crushes Page 14

by Laney Nielson


  I looked down at my leotard, and an orange pumpkin stared back at me.

  “Oh no!”

  “Shizzles,” Karly said.

  Pete picked up the candy cane. “It’s okay,” he said. “We can fix this.”

  “But …” The show was going to start any minute. “How? I don’t have any glue. And we don’t—”

  “I’ll sew it.”

  “Sew it?” Kevin said. “Seriously?”

  “There are supplies in the costume room. Come on.” Pete handed Kevin and Karly the box of props he was managing.

  “Careful, try not to move,” he said, pulling the fabric away from my skin, a threaded needle in his other hand. I smelled peppermint on his fingers. My stomach fluttered. He was so close.

  I tried to stay still—the last thing I needed was to be stabbed by a sewing needle. But it was hard—Pete made me jittery.

  “Is there a reason you have an orange pumpkin on your leotard?”

  “It was cheaper than a plain one.”

  “Good reason.”

  Within two minutes, the candy cane was reattached and we were walking back to take our place next to Kevin and Karly in the wings.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered to Karly as I pointed to Ms. Kumar on stage.

  “Special announcement.”

  Special Announcement? Exciting! She was probably going to introduce the judge and talk about the prize.

  Ms. Kumar cleared her throat. I leaned forward. I didn’t want to miss a word.

  “As many of you know, this year the winners of the Holidaze Spectacular were to be awarded scholarships to the Summer Academy at the High School for Performing Arts.”

  Kevin nodded but Karly scrunched up her face as if to say, huh? There was something about Ms. Kumar’s tone of voice that worried me. And there was her choice of the word—were. Uh, that was past tense.

  “Unfortunately, due to the snowstorm and the rescheduled show, the director of the Summer Academy was unable to attend this performance. As she is not here to judge, there will be no official winners. I know this is a disappointment to our performers …”

  What? No judge? No winner? It took a moment for Ms. Kumar’s words to sink in.

  “I’m sorry.” Karly put her arm around me.

  “Bummer,” Kevin and Ryan said at the exact same time.

  Shocked, I stared out at the stage.

  “You okay?” Karly asked.

  “Okay,” I repeated. But I was crushed. There went my chance of ever stepping inside the High School for Performing Arts. Gone.

  “Here.” Pete handed me a bottle of water.

  I took a drink. It helped, somehow.

  “Can I have a sip?” Kevin reached for it.

  “Sure.” I handed it to him. Then I pushed aside my disappointment—the show was starting, and I still wanted to give my best performance.

  We listened to each act backstage, hugging the performers after they finished. Before I knew it, it was Ryan’s turn. From the wings, I watched as he wowed the audience with each trick. Then Kevin burst onto the stage and the two of them did a series of cool acro moves.

  When his part was done, Kevin stood next to me as we watched Ryan’s finale—he made Ms. Medley’s cell phone disappear and then reappear under the seat of a random audience member.

  “Listen to that,” Kevin said, as the audience erupted in a round of applause for Ryan.

  “They love him,” I said, and I actually wasn’t jealous. Not one bit. “And they loved your acro moves too. I heard them going wild.”

  “Yep. I was pretty good.” Kevin gave a thumbs-up.

  Ryan bounded toward us, full of energy, and we all high-fived him.

  “You ready?” I asked Kevin and Karly.

  “I’m ready,” Kevin said, putting the top hat on.

  “You got this,” Pete said to me as I followed Karly onto the stage.

  You got this, I thought. You got this—the same words printed on the pencil my Secret Snowman gave me. I touched the candy cane appliqué, the one Pete had sewn on. You got this.

  I was ready.

  Karly sat down at the keyboard; Kevin and I took our positions; the lights shone down; and then …

  Showtime!

  As I moved through the opening sequence, I counted: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. By the second section, I wasn’t counting. My heart and the soles of my feet knew exactly what to do. I felt the music, and it was mine. I sensed it from Kevin too. He owned it. This was where we belonged. This was how we belonged together—best friends dancing on a stage.

  Breathing hard, we finished strong—both of us on our knees, our arms stretched back, our heads held high.

  We’d done it. Given it our best.

  Facing the audience, Kevin, Karly, and I held hands. My heart pounded as the applause rang in my ears. There were hoots and hollers and someone whistled. We raised our linked hands high. This is winning, I thought as we bent over to bow.

  “You were amazing!” Claire called as she and Mom made their way through the crowd toward me.

  After we hugged, Kevin and Karly came over with their parents for more hugs and more congratulations. Then we took a bunch of photos of the three of us—best friends.

  “Sash-aaa!” Kevin and Karly sang in my ear and I cracked a smile.

  After the Hall’s headed toward the refreshment table, Claire handed me a bottle of water. “Sash,” she said. “I’m sorry the director of the Summer Academy wasn’t here to see you.”

  I took a sip.

  “You would’ve won,” Mom said.

  “Mom, you’re just saying that because you’re my mom. Everyone was great and Ryan was—”

  “True, but you, Sash. You were special.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking … you should apply for the Summer Academy.”

  “What?” Water sprayed out of my mouth. “Seriously?” I wiped my lips. “But it’s not STEM. It won’t help me get into Tech Magnet. Plus, it’s too expensive.”

  “They give financial aid,” Mom said. “I read that over sixty percent of the students receive some assistance.”

  “Really?” I wasn’t sure what surprised me more: the possibility of financial aid or the fact Mom had been on the Summer Academy website.

  Claire put her arm around Mom. “Sounds like you’ve done your research.”

  “Plus, they have an outstanding high school program.”

  “Mom, I know.”

  “I think you should apply next year.”

  “You’d be okay with me not going to Tech Magnet?”

  “You know, that was the right place for Claire,” Mom said, tilting her head toward Claire. “But seeing you up there on the stage tonight made me realize it might not be the right choice for you, Sash.”

  “Definitely,” Claire said. “Your place is on the stage.”

  “You should be proud of your daughter,” Ms. Medley said as she passed by.

  “I am.” Mom tugged my ponytail. “Very.”

  I hugged Mom, feeling like I was about to burst with happiness.

  “Congratulations!” Miss Melinda said as she and Big T approached me.

  “Could you teach me how to do a stag leap?” Big T nudged my arm.

  “Sure.” I smiled. “Saturday.”

  “I’ve been practicing my shimmy. See.” Big T tilted his shoulders forward and gave a shake.

  Miss Melinda patted his back. “And it still needs work.” We all laughed. “Sasha,” she said, “you should try the refreshments. They’re delicious, especially the cookies.” She nodded toward the table where Pete Sugarman stood. “He told me the two of you made them. Together.” She winked.

  “Thanks for helping me before the show with my wardrobe malfunction,” I said to Pete as I held a cup of cocoa.

  Pete started to drop his head, but then he stopped and looked right at me. “You were awesome.” His voice was quiet. “I mean, awesome.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at his sneakers. They were clean to
day—no confectionery sugar or flour.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t win. If the judge had been here, you would’ve won. I knew you could do it.”

  “Thanks. But it’s okay.” And it was. Then I thought about his words: I knew you could do it. That reminded me of the pencils my Secret Snowman gave me, with the inspirational messages. And I thought about what Pete had said to me when I went on the stage—You Got This.

  “Are you … my Secret Snowman?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He smiled. It was such a nice smile—kind of shy, but one hundred percent sincere.

  “Really?” Wow. Sometimes I was pretty clueless. “Thanks for everything.” I blushed as I remembered each gift. “You made it really special.”

  “How is it?” he pointed to the cup of cocoa in my hand.

  I took another sip. “Mmm, it’s pretty good. You try.” I handed it to him, and our fingers touched. A tingle ran through me, all the way to my knees. My knees! So this was what a crush felt like.

  He tasted it.

  “What do you think?”

  “Could be better.” He grabbed a candy cane from the bowl on the refreshment table and unwrapped it. “Here.” He lowered it into the cup.

  I swirled the candy cane around. The scent of peppermint made me smile. No—it wasn’t the peppermint that made me smile. It was Pete.

  “Now try it.” He looked up at me; his eyes sparkled.

  My stomach swirled, and I knew even before I took a sip that it was perfect.

  Don’t miss any Swirl novels! Read on for a sneak peek at Cinnamon Bun Besties

  “I’ll do it, Mrs. Choi.” I raised my hand and to make certain that my teacher saw me, I waved. My heavy bracelet jingled like tiny bells as the charms smacked against each other. I loved that sound. It energized me to shake my hand a little stronger. “I want to be in charge of this year’s Cupid Candy Cards.”

  I knew the job was already mine, but Mrs. Choi took her time looking around at the other students on the Fort Lupton Middle School student council. We were a small group of representatives from the sixth, seventh and eighth grades. Last year, when I worked on the committee for the Valentine’s Day Cupid Candy Card fundraiser, we made the most money for the school in the history of the project. No joke. That part was awesome.

  And so was the middle school Spring Dance. We used the money we earned for an amazing DJ! She played the best music, threw out lighted necklaces, and gave everyone these funny socks to slip around in.

  No one said it out loud, but every representative I’d talked to agreed that because of all my hard work, I’d actually get to lead the Candy Cards this time around.

  “Thanks for stepping up, Suki,” Mrs. Choi told me when no one else volunteered to be the coordinator. She had a pencil tucked over her ear. Pushing back her short brown hair, she tugged it out and made a note on a pad of paper. “You can start by organizing—”

  With a whoosh and a bang, the door to the classroom swung open. “Sorry, I’m late,” Joshua Juaquin said as he hurried into the room and settled himself into an empty seat at the back. JJ was the male representative from my class who was also voted to the student council. “I was out on the soccer field with coach and didn’t hear the bell,” he explained, though we could all tell where he’d been by his soccer uniform.

  He scooted around in the seat, tucking in his shirt, as if that made the uniform look a little nicer.

  When I glanced over my shoulder at him, I could see JJ’s cheeks were flushed pink and there were dots of sweat in his short brown hair. JJ caught me staring and winked. I rolled my eyes at him and quickly turned away.

  “No problem. We were just getting started. Welcome, JJ.” Even the teachers called him that. I think it took the pressure off everyone, since his mom was famous. If no one called him by his last name, it was as if they didn’t have to treat him special.

  “Now, where were we?” Mrs. Choi looked down at a piece of paper on her desk. “Oh, right, Suki Randolf will lead the Cupid Card Commit—”Our teacher hadn’t even finished the sentence when JJ’s hand shot up.

  With a deep breath, I twirled a strand of my long black hair and closed my eyes. I knew exactly what was about to happen. This wasn’t the first time that JJ had challenged me for something important. It was, in fact, the eighth time. Not that I’m keeping score, or anything petty like that.

  “I’d like a chance to lead the Cupid Notes Committee,” JJ proclaimed.

  “It’s ‘Cupid Cards,’” I hissed under my breath. Then, louder I exclaimed, “Ouch,” when I got kicked in the leg by Marley, my next-door neighbor and best friend.

  “Shhh, Suki,” she whispered to me.

  “We all know why Suki wants the coordinator position,” Mrs. Choi told JJ. “But, why do you want it, JJ?” She pinned him with her best serious teacher stare and said, “Convince me.”

  Instead of looking at our teacher, I swore I could feel beams from JJ’s eyes staring at the back of my head. My skin prickled.

  “Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday,” JJ began.

  I wanted to shoot up, out of my chair, and shout, “Liar!” But that wouldn’t be cool. Besides, I didn’t actually know what his favorite holiday was. I’d barely talked to him in the past three years.

  I tapped my fingers on the desk in front of me while he went on.

  “I’ve never lead a committee before, but I think I could do a good job. I have a few ideas on how to raise more money.”

  It worked like this: It cost students a dollar to send a heart shaped card and a lollipop to anyone at school. That was a Cupid Card. Buyers could send them to a friend, a crush, a teacher…anyone. Students on the committee got excused from classes so they could deliver them all day. The reality was the Cards, paper heart and attached candy, only cost 10 cents to make so we turned a 90 percent profit! Last year we raised over $300 to use for the school’s spring dance. That was more than enough for the DJ.

  “We can double our take,” JJ said. “The dance this year will be epic! We will have a live band instead of a boring DJ, professional dancers to teach us moves, and get some awesome prizes for the best moves.” He wiggled in his seat, slamming his head towards the desk, as if that was some kind of dancing.

  “Wrong,” I suddenly blurted out. I reined my tone in to a calm voice and told JJ, “You’re dead wrong.”

  Swirl books are the perfect flavor: A sweet blend of friends, crushes, and fun. Curl up and take a sip!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Laney Nielson is a former classroom teacher with a master’s degree in education. She is a past recipient of the Cynthia Leitich Smith Mentorship and a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. She lives in Plano, Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and a dog who thinks she’s a cat.

 

 

 


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