by Coco Simon
Isabel called, “I’m sorry! Thank you for helping me!” and it warmed my heart so much that it almost made my tardiness worth it.
“You’re welcome!” I called back, feeling a glow of sisterly love that I hadn’t felt in literally months.
It was funny how that little snake—the unlikeliest of creatures—had drawn us close again.
“I know, I know! I’m so sorry!” I said as I raced into Molly’s at 1:19. I ducked into the rear of the store (“backstage,” we called it) and washed up. Then I raced out, tying on my apron as I went.
Out front there was a huge line all the way to the front door, mostly of very tall people in uniforms.
“Is this an entire basketball team?” I joked to Allie, but her blue eyes were stormy. She was straight-lipped and didn’t reply.
“Next!” was all she said.
Uh-oh.
Tamiko breezed by me to deliver an elaborate unicorn sundae to a customer. “Seriously, dude?” she whispered to me. “After all the talks about lateness?” Her high black ponytail swished from side to side as she rushed by me.
I sighed. What could I say in my own defense? Oh, hey, my sister is finally being nice to me again after months of iciness, and I’m so desperate to be her friend again that I lost track of time?
Humph.
I probably could have said that, actually. After all, Tamiko and Allie were my besties, and they knew every living detail of my life. But they had been depending on me, and I had let them down by being late.
“Next?” I called, and I was off and running.
Once the post-lunch rush had finally petered out, Allie said, “Sierra? Can we talk?” She jerked her thumb backstage, and I followed her there.
“You’re in trouble,” whispered Tamiko in a singsongy voice as I passed her. I gave her a good snap with the dishtowel I was holding and kept on walking.
“Mommy! Sierra hit me!” Tamiko fake-cried.
In the back, Allie’s face was bright red. “You know what? The thing I hate the most about your being late is that I have to tell my mom about it. It’s so awful! I hate doing it, and that makes me even madder!” She ran her hands through her wavy dark brown hair in frustration.
“I’m so sorry. I really am. I just—”
Allie put her hands up. “Sierra. I know there was a reason. I’m sure it was probably a pretty good one. It always is—”
“I was helping—”
But she cut me off again and continued. “I know. You’re very helpful. It’s just . . . every time you’re helping someone else, you’re letting me and Tamiko down! When do we come first? When does work come first?”
She had a point. There wasn’t anything I could say.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Allie sighed. “I know you are. I just wish it wouldn’t keep happening. We’re a team. The Sprinkle Sunday sisters, remember? When you’re late, you’re letting down the team and we don’t work as well. We’re a well-oiled machine, and when part of the machine isn’t here, well . . .”
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. “I won’t be late again. I promise. I will make you and Tamiko and work my priority on Sundays. In fact, I’ll come in early—”
“Actually, that’s what I was going to say. You realize that every time you’re late, you’re kind of stealing from the store, right?”
That stopped me in my tracks. “What?”
Allie nodded. “Yes. Because my mom pays you for the full four hours, but if you only work three and a half, you’re taking money you didn’t earn. Get it? It’s wrong. It’s . . . stealing. So I’m going to ask you to please come in a half hour early next week to work it off. Or . . . or . . .” Allie sighed. “I really don’t want to do it, but I’ll have to tell my mom. Okay?”
I nodded, not liking to think of myself as a thief, of all things! And Allie was going to rat me out! Where was the loyalty?
“Got it. Sorry,” I said, swallowing hard.
Allie sighed again. “Okay, thanks. I feel so much better now that I’ve gotten all this off my chest. I just don’t like feeling cheated. And also, I don’t like feeling overwhelmed. We were shorthanded today when we had a rush, and people might leave and not come back if the wait is too long. The shop is too new for us to expect people to stand in long lines and wait for our ice cream. You know?”
“Yeah.”
Just then Tamiko popped her head into the back. “Everything okay back here?”
Allie and I looked at each other, then at Tamiko. I shrugged, and Allie said, “Yes. We’re all good. Right, Sierra?”
I said, “I guess.”
“Awww, come on. Hug it out, bros!” teased Tamiko. At first Allie and I just looked at each other awkwardly, but Tamiko kept saying it until we hugged. I knew Allie was still my friend, but I didn’t feel like things were one hundred percent back to normal yet. There was still a little bit of tension between us.
“Now come back up front and tell us all about the kitties that you texted us about!” Tamiko said.
Back in the ice cream parlor area, Allie put some good music on to energize us, and we did the post-rush cleanup. We divvied up the tasks: refilling the topping bins, mopping the floor, cleaning the counter- and tabletops, rinsing out the milkshake machines, swapping out the empty ice cream buckets, even cleaning the bathroom. (I took that one on as a kind of payback for my lateness.) We had the place superclean in no time. I worked extra hard and extra fast to make up for my lateness, and Allie was appreciative.
While we worked, I filled them in on the kittens.
“Hey! Just like a kitten café!” said Tamiko.
“What’s that?” asked Allie, leaning on her broom.
Tamiko pulled out her phone and began thumbing through screens. “In Japan there’s this trend of pet cafés—different themes, like bunnies, kittens, cats, whatever—and you go get coffee and pay the entrance fee, and you can sit and play with the animals for as long as you like.”
“Cool,” I said.
Tamiko nodded. “The bunny one is really popular in Tokyo. It has five floors. And there’s even a pug café!” Tamiko was obsessed with pugs.
“That sounds awesome,” said Allie. “Is there a snake café?” She grinned at me wickedly. I sighed.
“She still didn’t tell your parents?” asked Allie disapprovingly.
I shrugged and winced at the same time. “What can I say?”
“Tell her to do it!” insisted Allie.
“But we’re finally getting along!” I protested. “That’s why I was late today! I was helping her clean out the tank!”
“WHAT?” Allie and Tamiko yelled at the same time.
“I’d do anything for my sister,” I said, kind of joking.
“Just leave it be,” said Tamiko. “It will all come out sooner or later, and it’s not your problem.”
“Yes, it is her problem if she’s part of the cover-up. It’s as good as lying to them herself,” said Allie.
We were all quiet for a minute as we cleaned.
“Do you think she’ll start hanging out with us again now?” asked Allie. She and Isabel had always gotten along well.
I pressed my lips together. “Ummm . . .”
“Hi, girls!” said Mrs. Shear as she breezed in from the back office, looking all around the shop as she entered. Then she stopped in her tracks. “Oh no! Didn’t anyone come in today?”
“We were packed half an hour ago . . . ,” said Allie in confusion.
“There was a line out the door!” added Tamiko.
But I understood what she meant. “We cleaned up!” I said.
Mrs. Shear clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise; then she dropped it. “Wonderful work, girls! It looks like new in here!”
“It’s amazing what a little music can do!” said Tamiko.
“And some teamwork!” added Allie.
“Great job. Thank you all so much. And, Sierra, Allie tells me you’re getting some exciting visitors this week,” said M
rs. Shear.
I nodded and grinned. “Yup! I think the kittens are coming home tomorrow.”
“That will be fun,” she said.
“We’ll come see them whenever you get them. Even if it’s a school day, right, Mom?” said Allie.
“Absolutely,” said Mrs. Shear as she headed back to her office to reply to e-mails.
“And if you guys haven’t told your parents about the snake by then, maybe I will!” said Allie so defiantly that I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
“You wouldn’t!” I cried.
“Just watch me, Sprinkle Squad sister!”
CHAPTER FOUR
JUST LIKE OLD TIMES
I could hardly sit still in school the next day. It felt like waiting for Christmas! Every time I started to focus, my mind would roam to the kittens and whether they’d pass their health tests and come home that afternoon.
At lunch Tamiko and I video-chatted with Allie to let her know we hadn’t had any news on the cats yet. Allie couldn’t wait to see them either.
Our lunch was so disgusting that day. It was what we had nicknamed “the Burritos of Sadness,” when the lunch workers chopped up all the leftovers from the previous week and rolled them into big tortillas and called them burritos. Allie used her phone to show us her lunch at her beautiful new school. She was having pad thai and summer rolls with lemon iced tea. Not fair!
Right as we hung up, I spied Isa across the cafeteria. She was with some of her friends—intense soccer-playing boys. She always acted like a tough guy when she was with them. I smiled and waved at her, but she only slightly tipped her chin at me in reply, then turned to roughhouse with one of the boys. Her coolness cut like a dagger into my chest, and my smile disappeared. I had thought that we were friends again! What was the deal?
By the end of the school day, my hurt had blossomed into anger. Here I was, keeping Isabel’s secret for her, helping her with her creepy snake, and she didn’t even have the decency to wave back at me, her identical twin, at school? The nerve!
My mood perked up, though, when I got a text from my mom right at dismissal. The kittens are coming home today! 5:00 PM! it said.
“Woo-hoo!” I cheered, and pumped my fist into the air. Everyone at my student council meeting turned to stare at me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. I quickly texted Miko and Allie; then I put my phone away and concentrated on the issues for a good ten minutes. But of course my mind floated back to the kitties, and the rest of the meeting was an agony of counting the minutes until I could leave.
At four o’clock I sprang out of my seat in the cafeteria and dashed to catch the next bus home. Checking my phone as I racewalked to the pickup spot at the curb, I saw that Allie and Tamiko had both replied that they’d be at my house by five thirty.
At home I tore around, cleaning up. Our house was always messy, but with friends coming over and the new arrivals due, I wanted things to look as good as possible. I did the breakfast dishes, recycled the papers, made my bed and my parents’ bed, and straightened all the cushions and pillows in the living room. I turned on all the lights and made myself a snack of avocado toast, since I was starving after not eating much of my Burrito of Sadness. Right as I was squeezing lemon over the mashed avocado, I heard a noise behind me.
Whipping around in surprise, I saw that it was Isa.
“How long have you been home?” I asked.
She shrugged, leaning in the doorway. “An hour?”
“What have you been doing?”
“Working on my science project,” she said.
“Creepy. I didn’t even know you were here.” I turned my back on her and poured myself an ice water. I didn’t offer her anything, which was unlike me, but I was mad about her ignoring me at lunch.
Bringing my plate and glass to the kitchen table, I avoided looking at her. She kept standing in the doorway.
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you just going to keep standing there watching me eat?” I exploded. I was annoyed with her from my head to my toes.
“Jeez, calm down,” she said. “I’m just trying to decide what I want to eat.” She crossed the room to look in the cabinets.
Now that my anger was out in the open, I decided to let her have it. “Why is it that you can’t even bring yourself to say hello to me at school? Even strangers will wave back at people who smile and wave at them!”
She shrugged and kept looking in the cabinets.
“I thought we were Team P again.” It was embarrassing to admit my feelings, but I had to. I was that mad.
She turned around with a smirk. “Why?”
Indignantly I said, “Um, hello? ’Cause I helped you with the snake and everything? And most of all, because I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about her! And I could have. I should have! And you’re all ‘Thanks, Sisi.’ ” I mimicked her and then wedged a bite of the toast into my mouth and sat there, chewing furiously.
Isabel laughed. “Just because I asked for your help doesn’t make us sisters for life again. We’re so different. You’re Little Miss Helpful, the always perfect pretty-in-pink princess, the good girl! It’s gross. Imagine living with someone like that, who’s always trying to please everyone.”
My blood went cold and I dropped my toast onto my plate. “Is that what you really think of me?”
She folded her arms defiantly. “Yup!”
I stood. “Well, what about you, Little Miss Disagreeable, always cranky, ‘no one can make me smile,’ with all your weird new friends, and joining the boys’ soccer team, and getting a pet snake!”
“Whatever,” said Isabel, shaking her head dismissively. She stormed out of the kitchen.
My heart was racing as I sat back down at the table. I wasn’t even hungry anymore. I was upset by what I’d said to Isabel, but even more by what she’d said about me. Was it true that I was a suck-up? A princess? Little Miss Helpful? That I’d do anything to get people to like me? Isa had made me feel awful about myself.
Just then the door handle from the garage jiggled, and there was a muffled knocking. I hopped up to open the door.
“Hello?” I said before I opened it.
“Isa? It’s me! Open up! My hands are full!” It was my dad.
“It’s Sierra,” I said, opening the door.
“Oh, sorry, mi amor. Here we are!” he cried, hoisting a large cardboard box through the doorway. It was covered in an old, clean towel, I guess to keep the kittens from escaping. My mom was behind him, carrying some cat supplies—a bag of litter and a litter box, a bag of dry adult cat food, and a shopping bag with some cans.
My anger at Isa melted away for the moment, and my heart swelled with excitement.
“Kittens!” I sighed. “Oh, Papi, I can’t wait!” I reached to take some packages from my mom.
“Gracias, love,” she said.
My dad hustled the box into the living room and placed it on the floor by the big sofa. My mom put down her packages in the kitchen, and we followed my dad.
“Where’s your sister?” asked my dad.
I pointed upstairs.
“Could you please go tell her we’re all here? I’ll wait for you both before I open the box.”
I could hear tiny meows coming from under the towel; I didn’t think I could take the suspense. I was dying to see them, but I really did not want to go get Isa. Right then I didn’t care if I ever saw her again. But we didn’t disobey my parents at our house. Or at least, Isabel hadn’t ever before, and I still wouldn’t.
Reluctantly I stood and trudged upstairs. I crossed the landing and knocked on her door. There was no reply.
I knocked again. “Cats are here,” I said dully.
Still no reply. She was probably in her closet and couldn’t hear me. Gently I pushed open the door, and spied Isabel sprawled on her bed, facedown.
“Isa?”
“Go away,” she grumbled.
“The cats are here. Dad says to come down.”
“I don’t care,�
� she said.
I paused. What now?
“Come on. He’s waiting for us both before he even lets them out. I don’t want him to get annoyed. Let’s go.”
“Go ahead,” she said.
I took one last look at her. “Fine. But you’re the one who’s going to get in trouble for disobeying, not me. Mom and Dad are waiting for you.”
“Do you really think I care?” she asked, raising her tearstained face to me at last.
I was shocked to see her crying, and it melted my anger a tiny bit. Isa rarely cried. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there awkwardly for a minute. Inside, my head swirled all the insults about me being Little Miss Helpful, which didn’t exactly make me want to comfort her right then. But still, a little part of me did feel bad, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was partially guilty for Isabel’s tears.
After a moment I shrugged.
“I bet they’re pretty cute?” I said hopefully. “Just come down for a little bit. It wouldn’t hurt to snuggle them for a minute, would it?”
There was a pause, and then Isabel said, “Fine. But I’m going to wash my face first. Tell them I was asleep and I’m coming.”
Another lie? Nope. If we were going to be brutally honest with each other, then I was done lying for her.
“I’ll just tell them you’re coming,” I said. And I turned and went back downstairs.
A moment later we were all there, and my dad lifted the towel. “Ta-da!” he cried, and the kittens all started clamoring to get out. The mama cat hopped out first and cased the room, sniffing at everything and roaming behind and underneath all the furniture. My mom put out a dish with water and a dish with dry food for her, and the cat smelled it twice before she settled in to eat, placing her front paws together as she did.
The kittens, though, were wild and spastic. Isa and I sat on the rug with my parents, and we pushed aside the coffee table, creating a large central area bounded by our legs. As the kittens reached the perimeter and tried to escape, we’d gently lift them and put them back into the middle. Their little claws were like needles through the thin fabric of my pants, and I winced and laughed every time one tried to scale my leg like a little mountaineer.