by Coco Simon
Middle school can be hard …
some days you need a cupcake.
Emma is not thrilled with always needing to rearrange her schedule to babysit her younger brother, Jake, after school. But it’s summer, and Emma is free … or so she thinks. Emma’s parents have broken the news that really threatens to push Emma over the edge: Emma and Jake are going to the same day camp together. And Emma will have to babysit Jake on the bus. Every day. Can’t Emma catch a break?
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SIMON SPOTLIGHT
Simon & Schuster, New York
Cover illustrations by Abigail Halpin
Cover design by Laura Roode
Ages 8–12
0412
Emma
all
stirred
up!
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 2012 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Text by Elizabeth Doyle Carey. Designed by Laura Roode.
First Edition
ISBN 978-1-4424-5078-3
ISBN 978-1-4424-5079-0 (eBook)
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2011942950
Contents
Chapter 1: Little Brother, Big Problem
Chapter 2: Meet the Hotcakes!
Chapter 3: New Friends, Old Friends, and Old Enemies
Chapter 4: A Secret Celebrity!
Chapter 5: Me, Model?
Chapter 6: Now I’m a Celebrity!
Chapter 7: Shoved into the Spotlight
Chapter 8: Hard Work and a Good Deed
Chapter 9: Hotcakes and Cupcakes
Chapter 10: Friendship, Favors, and Flute Practice
Chapter 11: Cupcakes, Meet the Hotcakes
Chapter 12: Happy Birthday, Jake!
Chapter 13: Hotcakes to the Rescue!
Chapter 14: Talent and Charm
CHAPTER 1
Little Brother, Big Problem
My name is Emma Taylor, but a few weeks ago I was wishing it was anything but! I was pretending that the little boy who was outside the school bus, wailing that he did not want to go to day camp, was not my little brother, Jake Taylor, and that those desperate parents who were bribing and pleading with him were not my parents, but rather some poor, misguided souls whom I would never see again.
In fact, I was wishing that I was already an adult and that my three best friends and I—the entire Cupcake Club—had opened our own bakery on a cute little side street in New York City, where none of my three brothers lived. The bakery would be all pink, and it would sell piles of cupcakes in a rainbow of lovely colors and flavors, and would cater mainly to movie stars and little girls’ princess birthday parties. That is my fantasy. Sounds great, right?
But oh, no, this was reality.
“Emmy!” Jake was shrieking as my father gently but firmly manhandled him down the bus aisle to where I was scrunched down on my seat, pretending not to see them. I could literally feel the warmth of all the other eyes on the bus watching us, and I just wanted to melt away. Instead I stared out the window, like there was something really fascinating out there.
“Emma, please look after your brother,” said my father. How many times have I heard that one? My older brothers, Matt and Sam, and I take turns babysitting Jake, but somehow the bad stuff always happens on my shift. My dad gave Jake one last kiss, reached to pat me on the head, and then dashed off the bus. I wished I could’ve dashed with him.
A counselor sat on the end of the seat, scrunching Jake in between us, so he couldn’t run away. Jake was wailing, and the counselor—a nice girl named Paige, who is about twenty-one years old and probably wishing she were somewhere else too—was speaking in a soothing voice to him. She looked over his head at me, smiled, and then said, “Don’t worry. This happens all the time. We always get one of these guys. He’ll settle down within the week.”
The week?! I wanted to die, but instead I nodded and looked out the window again. I also wanted to kill Jake that moment, but it was only seconds later that his wails turned to quiet hiccups. Then he slid his clammy, chubby little hand into mine and squeezed, and I felt a little guilty. “It’s going to be okay, Jake,” I whispered, and squeezed his little hand back. He snuggled into me and looked up at me with these really big eyes that get me every time. It’s not the worst thing in the world to have a little someone in your life who looks up to you.
I sighed. “Feeling better, officer?” Jake is big into law enforcement, so it usually cheers him up if we play Precinct. At least he wasn’t crying anymore. Paige gave him a pat on the head and then went to help some other kids get on the bus. But Jake wasn’t feeling better. I could tell just by looking at him.
“I feel sick,” he said.
Oh no. Jake isn’t one of those kids who fakes being sick. My mom always says on car trips that if Jake says he feels sick, we pull over, because he will throw up, 100 percent of the time.
I jerked the bus window open and quickly flung Jake over me, so that he was sitting in the window seat. “Put your head out the window, buddy. Take deep breaths—in through your nose, out through your mouth. We’re going to start moving soon, so the wind will be in your face. … Deep breaths.”
I rubbed his back a little and looked up to see if anyone I knew was getting on at this stop. My best friend and co–Cupcake Clubber Alexis Becker was going to the same camp, but her parents were dropping her off on their way to work. I fantasized about them driving me, too, and leaving Jake to his own devices. Ha! As if my parents would let me get away with that! At the very least, I did have our Cupcake Club meeting to look forward to later today. Just quality girl time, planning out the club’s summer schedule and reviewing the cupcake jobs we had coming up. Chilling with my best friends—Alexis, Katie, and Mia—and brainstorming. It was definitely going to be fun.
A bunch of little kids streamed on and sat mostly in the front of the bus. Suddenly I spied a familiar shade of very bright blond hair, and my stomach sank. Noooo!!! It couldn’t be.
But it was.
Sydney Whitman, mean-girl extraordinaire and head of the imaginatively named Popular Girls Club at school, came strolling down the aisle, heading straight for the back row, where only the most popular kids dared to sit. I quickly looked out the window and pretended I hadn’t seen her. But no luck.
“Oh, that’s so cute! You and your little brother sitting together! I guess that’s easier than trying to find someone your own age to sit with?” She smiled sweetly, but her remark stung just as it was meant to.
Jake hates Sydney as much as I do, if not more, so when he turned his head to look at her, he began to gag. Sydney’s eyes opened wide, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh no! He’s going to—”
Luckily, Jake turned to the window just in time and hurled the contents of his stomach out onto the road.
“Disgusting!” shrieked Sydney, and she fled to the back of
the bus.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s just one more nail in the coffin of my possible popularity, not that I ever really stood a chance. And not that I really wanted to. But it was also kind of hilarious to have Jake take one look at Sydney and then throw up. Definitely not her desired effect on men. I made a mental note to tell the Cupcake Club later. They’d love this.
Jake barfed a couple more times and then sat back down, looking as white as a sheet. The good news about Jake’s car sickness is that after he’s done throwing up, he’s always fine. I pulled a napkin from my lunch bag and gave it to him to wipe his face. Then I cracked open his thermos and gave him a tiny sip of apple juice. I felt sorry for the poor guy. I hate throwing up.
Jake smiled wanly. “Thanks, Emmy. Sorry.”
I laughed. “I feel the same way when I see Sydney Whitman.” I wasn’t sure I would have been so psyched about going to this camp if I’d known Sydney was going—or at the very least that she’d be on my bus. It definitely put a cramp in my happiness.
Jake rested his head back against the seat and promptly fell asleep. In a minute his head was resting, sweaty and heavy, against my shoulder. First days can be hard for anyone, especially little kids. At least tomorrow we wouldn’t have the same problem. I said a silent prayer that Sydney wasn’t in my group.
At camp, we got off the bus and a crowd of cheering counselors with painted faces was there to greet us. My mom must’ve called ahead to tip off someone, because one really pretty counselor was holding up a sign, like people do at the airport. It read OFFICER JAKE TAYLOR. That at least allowed me to peel him off and hand him over to the counselor, so I could go with my group, Team Four, to our rally zone (whatever that was) at the arts-and-crafts center.
The boys and girls have separate areas at camp, so I wouldn’t see Jake again all day, thank goodness. And thank goodness again, because Sydney headed off with Team Five in the opposite direction. I didn’t have a minute to review who was on whose team. Anyway, I didn’t know a lot of the kids, but I did know that wherever Alexis was, she and I would be together. (We requested it, and my mom promised me she had spoken with the camp director.) That’s all that matters.
As I headed across the green lawn to the arts-and-crafts center, I heard someone calling my name. I turned, and, of course, it was Alexis! I had never been so happy to see her in all my life.
“Thank goodness!” I cried, and threw my arms around her, like a shipwreck victim who has finally been saved.
Alexis isn’t much for big displays of affection, so she patted my back awkwardly, but I didn’t mind. In any case, she just saw me a few days ago.
“What’s going on?” she asked as we separated and followed our counselor.
“Jake drama. Screaming, puking—the whole deal.” I lowered my voice. “And Sydney Whitman saw the whole thing.”
Alexis waved her hand in the air, as if to say whatever! That is just one of the many things I love about Alexis. She doesn’t care at all what other people think. “Too bad he didn’t puke on her,” she said with a laugh. “Or did he?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“No such luck. But the good news is, we aren’t on the same team as her.”
We’d reached the log cabin that was the headquarters for our team. On its porch stood two teenage counselors—a guy and a girl. As the crowd amassed in front of them, I counted twelve campers: all girls, of course. Yay! Finally! A break from all the boys in my life!
“Hello, people! Listen up!” The guy counselor was clapping his hands and kind of dancing around in a funny way to get our attention. Everyone started laughing and listening.
He bowed and said, “Thank you, ladies! My name is Raoul Sanchez, and this is my awesome partner, Maryanne Murphy.”
Maryanne did a little curtsy, and we all clapped. She was pretty—short and cute with red hair and freckles. Raoul was tall and thin with rubbery arms and legs, and his face had a big goofy smile topped off by black, crew-cut hair. It was obvious neither of them was shy.
“We are going to have the most fun of any team this summer! Raoul and I personally guarantee it!” Maryanne said enthusiastically.
Raoul nodded. “If this isn’t the most fun summer of your life, when camp is over I will take you to an all-you-can-eat pizza party, on me.”
There were cheers and claps.
“Okay, we have a lot to tell you, so why don’t you all grab a seat on the grass and get ready to be pumped!” said Maryanne.
Raoul and Maryanne then proceeded to tell us how we’d get to pick our own team name. (“Team Four” was just a placeholder, they said.) They told us about all the fun activities we’d do: swimming, kayaking, art projects, team sports, field trips, tennis, and more. Then they told us about the special occasions that were scheduled: Tie-Dye Day, Pajama Day, Costume Day, Crazy Hat Day, and finally, the best day of all … Camp Olympics, followed by the grand finale: the camp talent show!
Ugh. The camp talent show? Getting onstage in front of more than a hundred people? So not up my alley. I made a face at Alexis, but she was listening thoughtfully, her head tilted to the side and her long reddish hair already escaping its headband. She was probably wondering if there was any money to be made here; business was mostly all she thought about. In fact, her parents said if she did an outdoor camp for part of the summer, she could go to business camp for two weeks at the end of the summer. Sometimes I wonder how we are friends at all; our interests are so different!
“Thinking of signing up?” I whispered.
“Myself? No. But you should,” she whispered back.
I laughed. “Yeah, right. What’s my talent? Babysitting?”
Alexis raised her eyebrows at me. “Maybe. But I’m sure you can come up with something more marketable than that.”
Right. I can’t even keep the kid I babysit for from throwing up.
CHAPTER 2
Meet the Hotcakes!
First we played a getting-to-know-you game called Pass the Packet. We had a mystery brown bag filled with something, and we each took turns holding it and telling the group about ourselves and then said what we wished was in the bag. (I told the group I had three brothers and I wished the bag had tickets to a taping of Top Chef.) When it was Alexis’s turn, she told the group how she, Mia, Katie, and I had a Cupcake Club and about all the business we do, baking cupcakes for special events. The other girls in the group thought it was so cool. I felt great, and Alexis and I promised to bring in cupcakes for the group.
At the end, Maryanne opened the “packet,” and it was filled with these awesome friendship bracelets for each of us. We all grabbed for the color we wanted. I, of course, grabbed a pink one.
Then we got down to business, naming our team.
A very pretty girl named Georgia, with light red hair and dark eyes, suggested we be “Rock Stars.” I thought it was a great idea, but because it was the first idea, everyone still wanted a chance to make their own suggestions.
A girl named Caroline, who turned out to be Georgia’s cousin, said, “How about the ‘A-Team,’” which everyone thought was funny. Alexis suggested “Winners,” because the power of positive branding would intimidate our competitors. I had to laugh. Then a girl named Charlotte—with bright blue eyes and dark, dark hair—suggested that since we would be having cupcakes a lot (she laughed and looked at me and Alexis when she said it), we should be the “Cupcakes.” Right after she said it, a funny girl named Elle said, “No, the ‘Hotcakes’!” and that was it.
“The Hotcakes! I love it!” cried Raoul. He and Elle high-fived. “Let’s take a vote, girls! All in favor of the ‘Hotcakes,’ put your hands in the air!”
Everyone screamed and waved their hands high, and that was that. Maryanne announced it was time for the Hotcakes to change for swimming, then lunchtime.
Alexis and I grabbed our backpacks and headed to the changing rooms.
“This is superfun, don’t you think?” I asked as we walked across the central green.
I laughed. “How do you know?”
She shrugged. “I counted how many girls we have versus the other two teams in our age group, then I evaluated how many of our girls are nice and smart. As a percentage, we have the nicest team by far. I would also venture that one hundred percent of our team is smart, and with Sydney on Team Five and stupid Bella on Team Three, their intelligence rate is at least ten percent below ours.”
“Alexis! You are too much!” I shook my head. “The only bad part is, I wish the others were here.”
She knew who I meant. Katie and Mia from our Cupcake Club were doing different things from us this month. Alexis frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah. But we’ll see them plenty. And maybe it’s good for us to branch out a little. It will generate some new business strategies and connections!”
I swatted her. “Is that all you think about?”
She pushed open the door to the locker room with a grin. “Pretty much!”
“I just hope they don’t replace us with new friends.”
Alexis shrugged. “Maybe they’re thinking the same thing.”
I thought back to last fall, when Katie had been dumped by Callie, her old best friend, so that Callie could hang with Sydney and the Popular Girls Club. New friends and old: a tough thing to balance. I sighed after just thinking about it.
When I came to the open house they had in March, one of the things I liked about this camp was that they have private changing rooms in the locker room, so you don’t have to strip naked in front of strangers. I could never change in front of other people. Forget about being naked and getting into a bathing suit—I can’t even change into pj’s at a slumber party or try on clothes at the mall if someone else is in the room. Except for Mom. It’s just a personal thing. I am very private about my body. Maybe it comes from being the only girl in a family of boys or from having my own room, but I just like privacy.