Meg piled into the car with Annie and two of her other friends, Bella and Claire. It was being driven by Annie’s older sister, Courtney.
“Ooh, I like your shirt,” Annie said approvingly to Meg. “Where did you get it?”
“Um, I can’t remember,” Meg answered. She blushed a little bit at her fib and hoped her friends wouldn’t notice.
When they arrived at Annie’s house and jumped out of the car, Meg remembered to thank Courtney for picking her up and had to stifle a gasp as they all entered the Moffats’ home. It was one of the grandest in town, significantly bigger and fancier than even Laurie’s place. Though Meg had been there many times before, each time she walked through the door its splendor and elegance shocked her. The living room looked more like a hotel lobby than a place where you’d watch movies or hang out.
“Picture time,” Bella announced when they reached Annie’s room. All the girls crowded together and held out their phones, making their faces look as cute as possible. Meg knew the drill and participated enthusiastically, hoping no one would notice she didn’t have a phone of her own.
“Where’s yours, Meg?” Claire asked.
“I don’t have one,” Meg admitted. “My mom says I can’t until I’m in high school.”
Mrs. March hadn’t actually said this. The truth was the family couldn’t afford fancy phones for all the girls. But Meg didn’t want to explain all that.
“Ugh, that’s the worst,” Bella said sympathetically. “My parents were totally saying that too, but they finally gave in when I turned thirteen. I think I wore them down by asking for one every single day. You should try that.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Meg said, feeling a little uncomfortable, but glad that Bella was being so understanding. “I’m sure I’ll get one soon.” She decided to change the subject. “Does anyone want a manicure before the movie?”
“Me, me!” Annie shouted. “Meg does the best flowers.”
“It’s true,” Meg said, showing the other girls her fingernails, which had ten perfect daisies on them.
Each girl got at least one fingernail flower before it was time to go to the movies. They arrived early; the theater had a café where you could get soda floats and fries. Meg didn’t know everyone Annie had invited. Some of them were her friend’s older cousins who were already in high school, and a few of the boys went to Laurie’s school. Even though she felt a bit shy, Meg had a nice time until she overheard two older girls talking in the bathroom after the movie was over.
“I think her family lives next door to the Lawrences,” the first girl said. Meg’s ears perked up. They were talking about her.
“Lucky them. I heard Mr. Lawrence is very generous, and that they could use the help. Did you see the T-shirt she’s wearing?”
In her bathroom stall, Meg blushed a deep shade of crimson and stayed completely silent. She stared down at her shirt, which was still perfectly intact and looked fine.
“Yeah. But she seems sweet. If she’s smart, she’ll date that boy. What’s his name? I can’t remember.”
“I can’t remember either. Whatever.” The two girls left the bathroom with a bang of the door and Meg was left in there alone, feeling awful.
Not only did those mean girls think she was poor, they thought she should go out with Laurie! Which was ridiculous! He was an entire grade younger than Meg, and besides, he was Jo’s friend. She didn’t know if she felt more embarrassed about that or about her shirt.
The worst part was now she had to rejoin the party, which was full of kids who were all totally at ease and happy. Meg would have to do something very difficult: pretend nothing was wrong when everything was.
She did it. Why, Meg wondered, were there no Academy Awards given out to eighth-grade girls in acute emotional distress who managed to smile anyway?
That night, as the other girls gossiped and giggled and eventually fell asleep strewn about Annie’s room, Meg wrestled with her hurt feelings and worried that the two dresses she’d brought with her for the party were woefully wrong and even more proof that her family didn’t measure up.
The next morning, Meg wanted to go home, but noticed her friends were being perfectly nice to her. The mean girls from the bathroom weren’t at Annie’s house, and Meg didn’t even know if they’d be at the party later. She started to relax.
Annie’s mom set up an amazing waffle bar for the girls. It had sixteen different kinds of toppings, including maple butter, sprinkles, sliced strawberries, and chocolate sauce.
“Here’s your waffle, hon,” Annie’s mom said. “The rule is you have to add at least three toppings!” She winked.
“Mom! She does not!” Annie giggled. “But I’m adding seven to mine.”
The girls tried one another’s concoctions, all of which were delicious. Meg’s favorite was Bella’s, which had apple pieces, toffee, caramel sauce, and real whipped cream.
That afternoon, everyone swam in Annie’s indoor pool, and then it was time to get ready for the party. Meg still felt unsure about what to wear, so she decided to let her friends help her.
“What are you guys wearing tonight? I brought two dresses, but I’m not sure if they’re cute.” She opened up her overnight bag and carefully spread them on Annie’s bed.
“I think they’re both pretty,” Claire said sincerely.
“Me too,” said Annie. “But you can totally borrow one of mine if you want. Bella is.”
“I am,” Bella said. “My mom never lets me buy anything I like. Anyway, I can also do your hair if you want. I brought this!”
Bella pulled a bottle of pink temporary hair dye out of her bag. Meg gasped. Mom would absolutely have a coronary if Meg returned home with dyed hair. But it did say temporary. . . .
“Ooh, sweet,” Meg agreed.
“And I can do your makeup,” Claire cried. “Makeover!”
“Um . . . ,” Meg said.
But any hesitation she felt at the idea of being made over by her friends was soon overcome by their enthusiasm. Meg had never really worn much makeup, and she’d definitely never dyed her hair.
Annie, Bella, and Claire were so excited to work their magic on a blank canvas that they didn’t give Meg much of a chance to object. The next thing Meg knew, she was in one of Annie’s bright green party dresses with flat-ironed hair, complete with dozens of pink streaks, wearing eyeliner, mascara, blush, and lip gloss. She wore a pair of Bella’s low-heeled shoes and Claire’s dangly earrings.
Meg looked older. And, she could see in the mirror, beautiful.
“OMG, you look amazing,” Claire said. “I’m so jealous,” she added, but not in a mean way. “My turn!”
Meg helped the other girls get ready, but none of them were quite so transformed as she was. They’d all worn makeup and used flat irons on their hair before, so they looked more like themselves than Meg did. Meg felt good, and special, but also a little uncomfortable. She was very glad none of her sisters could see her. Jo, in particular, would freak out about Meg’s new look.
The party, which was in the Moffats’ basement, got rolling when Annie lowered the lights and turned up the music. There was a small dance floor, a foosball table the boys immediately commandeered, and a fridge stocked with soda and snacks. Streamers and balloons bounced around the room. Mr. and Mrs. Moffat kept an eye on things and repeatedly teased their daughter by threatening to play their music instead of hers.
Determined to have a good time, Meg acted more like Annie and Bella, who were naturally outgoing, than herself. She giggled loudly whenever anyone said anything remotely funny and even danced a few times.
When Mr. and Mrs. Moffat suggested everyone sing Annie “Happy Birthday,” Meg rolled her eyes along with all the other kids, even though she knew Mom wouldn’t approve when her hosts had been so incredibly generous.
Meg had fun. Until something unexpected happened: Laurie arrived.
She didn’t even notice him at first, since it was kind of dark and he was standing with some boys from
her class.
“I definitely love Baby Vampire,” Meg said, leaning toward Ned Moffat, who was extending his earbud in her direction and asking her if she’d heard the DJ he liked.
“Hey, Meg,” Laurie said when she and Ned ended up next to him at the chip bowl. “Baby who?”
“Laurie! What are you doing here?” Meg was immediately flustered, and touched her hair, which was still very, very pink.
“Annie and I know each other from Tae Kwon Do, and Jo said I had to come. To check on you.” He laughed. “You look alive to me. The snacks are excellent, right?”
“Um, right,” Meg said, unsure of what to say. She usually liked seeing Laurie, but she felt totally weird about her worlds colliding. The last time Laurie had come over to play video games with Jo, she’d been knitting on the couch with Beth, watching You’ve Got Mail in her pajamas. She’d insisted he wait to plug in his Xbox until the movie finished and she and Beth had had a chance to watch all the credits.
“You look different,” Laurie said.
“I, uh, had a makeover. It’s not a big deal.” Don’t tell Jo, she added silently, hoping he’d get it. “Do you like my hair?”
“Not really,” Laurie said.
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t know. You just don’t look like yourself, and I liked you the way you were.”
Meg frowned. Laurie clearly did not understand anything. What could you expect from a seventh grader? “You are totally rude,” she said, and stomped away from him in a huff.
Meg decided to go upstairs to get some fresh air. Before she reached the door to the huge back porch, however, she got lost. Somewhere between the powder room and a laundry room that was bigger than her kitchen, she heard Annie’s parents talking about all the kids at the party.
“Did you see little Meg March? She’s all grown up. Her mother is going to kill me for letting the girls put that pink stuff in her hair,” Mrs. Moffat was saying to her husband.
“Eh, tell her to relax. She looks like Annie’s twin.” He laughed. “Adorable.”
Meg turned around and headed back to the party, feeling almost the same way she had the night before: weird.
She was seized by an urge to put her own clothes back on and wash the dye out of her hair so she could go back to feeling like herself instead of like Annie’s clone.
But that would have to wait. First she needed to apologize to Laurie. She found him playing foosball and caught his eye. Warily, he walked over to her when he finished his game (he lost).
“You okay?” he asked, noticing her eyes, which were a little bright.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I’m sorry for calling you rude. You’re right that this is all . . . a little much,” Meg said, gesturing to her outfit, and her hair, and her face. “I just wanted to try it.”
“Sure. I’m sorry too. I was just surprised,” Laurie said. “Let’s have some ice cream. There’s an ice cream bar with all these toppings. . . .”
“Yeah. The Moffats are, like, really into the whole toppings-bar concept.” Meg laughed, feeling better.
“I’m into it too,” Laurie said.
Instead of sleeping over again, Meg decided to let Laurie and his grandfather take her home later that night when the party ended and the birthday presents had been opened and the thank-yous properly distributed.
Back at home, Meg hoped Jo would be asleep when she gently opened the door to their bedroom. Her sister’s light was on, but it looked like she had fallen asleep reading her book. It was spread open askew, half on her face. Meg moved around the room silently, changing into her pajamas and carefully placing Annie’s dress on the chair, so she’d remember to wash it in the morning. She used a couple of disposable wipes to try to clean off her face and accidentally knocked the hairbrush onto the floor. Jo stirred and sat up.
“Meg! Hey! I thought you were coming back tomorrow morning,” she said, immediately alert. “Your hair is flat.”
“Hey, yeah, I decided to come back a little early. Laurie dropped me off,” Meg explained.
“Did you have fun?” Jo asked, rubbing her eyes.
“I did, actually,” Meg said, nodding. “A lot of fun. But I’m glad to be home.”
Jo became more alert. “What is with your face? It’s . . . I don’t . . . What did you do?”
“Um, nothing,” Meg said, thinking the light was too low for Jo to really notice the makeup she’d only half removed.
“Something,” Jo insisted, moving closer and peering at Meg’s eyes like she was some sort of detective.
“Okay, okay. Stop looking at me like that. I let Annie and Bella give me a makeover.”
Maybe it was because the two were only fourteen months apart, or maybe it was because Jo was just so Jo, but Meg did care what her younger sister thought of her. It felt nice to tell her about the weekend, even though Meg was still trying to work out how she felt about it.
“A makeover?” Jo wrinkled her nose. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Meg said. “For fun, I guess. Annie and Bella and Claire have so many dresses and accessories and new kinds of makeup and I just wanted to see what it would feel like to look . . . you know, older.”
“So what did it feel like?” Jo asked, genuinely curious. Meg liked this about Jo. Her sister could occasionally be easy to talk to if you caught her in the right mood, open to whatever thoughts happened to come her way.
“Pretty cool. But also weird. I didn’t feel like myself. And when Laurie arrived, I felt extra awkward, especially because he caught me, like, flirting with Annie’s brother.”
“With Ned?” Jo said. “Ew!”
Meg laughed. “He’s kind of cute, Jo.”
“No, he is not,” Jo said definitively. “Laurie is a million times better-looking than Ned.”
Meg raised one eyebrow at that, and then let it drop. “Anyway, I had fun getting the makeover, but I think I’d rather just look like my regular self most of the time.”
“Good,” Jo said. She was open-minded in a lot of ways, but Jo also strongly disliked change of most sorts and did not want Meg to look like Annie Moffat, of all people. Jeez.
“Hannah is going to kill me if this stuff stains the pillowcases,” Meg said, tugging at her highlighted hair and looking around for a towel to put down on her bed.
“She won’t kill you. She told me she had an eyebrow ring in college and that she has a tattoo on her hip.”
“Really?” Meg gasped. “How come no one ever tells me anything interesting?”
“You gotta ask,” Jo said. “Like, seventeen times. Anyway, I think it’s fun to try different things. Even eyeliner . . . I guess . . . ughh. But the stuff you try should be what you want, not just what Annie Moffat says is cool. Maybe you should wear all black, Meg,” Jo added solemnly, her eyes dancing.
“I’m not wearing all black; that’s depressing. And all of that’s easy for you to say, Joey, because everyone thinks you’re awesome,” Meg said, sighing.
“In what universe?” Jo said, flabbergasted.
“In this universe! You’re so popular at school and you don’t even have to try! Maybe it’s because you’re good at sports,” Meg added thoughtfully. “It’s so unfair. I do not have one ounce of athletic talent at all.”
“Sure you do,” Jo said consolingly. “You’re very good at badminton.”
“Shut up,” Meg said affectionately, sitting on Jo’s bed and wrapping her arms around her knees.
“Hey.” Jo squeezed her sister. “Everyone thinks you’re awesome too. And if I’m popular at school it’s only because I seriously do not care about that kind of thing at all. I’d rather be on the hockey rink or writing in my notebook.”
“Thanks.”
“And you know why I love you?” Jo asked. “You’re nice and you care about other people and always notice when one of your little sisters needs a smile or a wink.”
“Okay, stop.” Meg went to her own bed and crawled in.
“Are you going to make out wit
h Ned?”
“Ew! No!”
“See! I knew you didn’t really think he’s cute.”
“Jo, go to sleep.”
“Okay, okay. G’night.”
Jo rolled over and started fake snoring. Then real snoring. Meg smiled and turned out the light.
Ice Cream Toppings Bar Ideas
By Laurie Lawrence
You can never have too many toppings when it’s time to make an ice cream sundae. Here are my favorites:
Crumbled chocolate cookies
Crumbled bacon
Sliced strawberries
Chocolate chips
Chopped pretzels
Sprinkles
Crumbled toffee
Crumbled peanut butter cups
Chopped peanuts
Crushed graham crackers
Pop Rocks
Marshmallows
Salted caramels
CHAPTER TEN
JAMB ’Zine Club
“A story was something you made up out of something that might have happened. Only you didn’t tell it like it was, you told it like you
thought it should have been.”
—Betty Smith
Once per month, all four March sisters gathered in Jo’s attic space for a very important meeting of their JAMB ’Zine Club. It had been Jo’s idea: She’d wanted real experience editing, as she called it, a premier literary publication, so they’d formed the JAMB ’Zine two years ago to report the monthly goings-on of the household and neighborhood.
“The ‘B’ is silent, just like me!” Beth had explained to Laurie, giggling.
“You’re not silent! You’re perfect,” Jo had protested.
Jo decided what would go in the ’zine, Amy did the illustrations and decided on the color scheme each month, and Meg arranged it all to fit on three pages and printed the copies. Beth was everyone’s assistant. They all contributed poems, stories, recipes, updates, and classified ads. It was a lot of fun and kept them completely occupied for an entire day when it was time to put out an issue, so Mom loved it.
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