Anyway, with nothing much to do, I was updating my status on Facebook from “in a relationship with Petunia Dubois” to “it’s complicated,” when Mike’s chat screen appeared at the bottom of my page.
Mike: U going to Ava’s party?
I thought, Ava’s having a party and she didn’t invite me?
Me: Nope
Mike: Aren’t u 2 friends?
Me: Guess not
Mike: U can come w/us
Right. Just what I wanted, to tag behind Mike and his equally tall and beautiful girlfriend, Sienna, as the slightly irregular but intelligent third wheel? Um, pass. Though it was thoughtful of him to ask, I’d give him that.
Me: Thanks, but I have plans
Mike: OK. Bye!
I logged off and lay on my bed, staring at my ceiling as I fought an existential crisis.
See, this is the problem with Facebook. If I hadn’t gone on, I would have remained blissfully ignorant about Ava’s party. I might even have had fun by myself knitting the scarf I was making my mother for Christmas and watching Blair Witch and teasing the cute trick-or-treaters. But now, I couldn’t shake the insult of total rejection.
Ava and I might not have been as close as before her Rolf days, but at least she could have included me in her first-ever Halloween party. Apparently Mike thought so too, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked me so casually Aren’t u 2 friends?
Exactly.
The doorbell rang again, sending Petunia into a crazy tailspin of barking and baying at the latest round of trick-or-treaters. It was the Brezinski brothers dressed up as ninja warriors/pirates/Star Wars Stormtroopers. They lived three doors down and their front yard was dirt from all the damage they’d inflicted on the grass by digging, scraping, and wrestling like maniacs.
I held out the bowl of candy and they whined in unison, “Not Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. EVERYONE gives out those.”
All righty then. I put the bowl back on the table, crossed my arms, and said, “Trick.”
Stuart Brezinski, the youngest of the gang at about age six, said, “What do you mean, trick?”
“It’s trick-or-treat, right? So you guys have to do some tricks ’cause you dissed my treats.”
The oldest, Marcus, gave him a light punch. “Come on, Stewy. Let’s go.”
But Stuart was intrigued. “Like magic tricks?”
“Like egging her house,” his other brother, Andrew, said. “Toilet-papering her car.”
“I dare you.”
Their faces lit up. Even under their masks, you could tell their greedy eyes were shining with delight at the prospect of actually being encouraged to commit minor acts of vandalism. Now, this was Halloween!
They hopped off our front steps and ran down the walk, heads bent together. I had to laugh at their evil glee. What a bunch of little thugs.
“That’s a bit dangerous, don’t you think?”
I hadn’t even noticed Will standing there in a red-lined black satin cape, hands in jeans pockets. I’m not a diehard vamp fan, but IMHO guys should wear capes 24/7. With his jet-black hair, he looked like an Edward Cullen fantasy come to life.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be begging for candy?” I said, my blood suddenly pulsing as I remembered his comment on Mike’s Facebook page. “Or is this how they do things in California?”
“This is how they do things in Massachusetts when you have a seven-year-old brother who’s new to the neighborhood.” He nodded to his left, where a vampire in miniature was skipping toward him down the sidewalk. “I’m waiting at the end of the street to give him a sense of ‘independence,’” he said, making air quotes around the word.
I couldn’t help but be touched. I also couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been invited to Ava’s party too. Bet he had. “That’s very sweet.”
“That’s what big brothers are for. By the way, I forgot to ask Mike. How did it go with Schultz?”
“We were acquitted. That’s the good news. The bad news is we have to do a project together and we still get letters in our permanent files saying we were referred to the principal for cheating.”
He made a face. “That’s not right.”
“Word.”
The miniature vampire came to a skipping halt and, after flashing me a questioning glance, tugged on Will’s cape. Will kneeled down and let him whisper into his ear. This was too darned cute.
“Ah,” Will said, smiling. “So my man Aidan here”—he ruffled his brother’s hair—“would like to know if he could use, um, your facilities.”
It took me a second to define facilities. But then I got it. “Oh! No problem.”
I waved them inside, trying to remember if I’d removed the spare emergency Tampax from its place of honor on the top of the toilet tank. I’m kind of lazy about leaving that stuff around, seeing as we don’t get much call for menfolk in these here parts.
“But you have to be careful,” I said to Aidan. “There’s a killer basset inside.”
Petunia howled and Aidan shrank into Will.
“She’s kidding.” Though Will himself didn’t seem so certain. “Right?”
Petunia howled again. “You’ll just have to take your chances.”
Aidan seemed pretty scared when he went through the vestibule into the house, until he saw my fat, elongated, stub-legged dog, a mass of wiggles and wags, so incredibly overjoyed to see a real live kid approaching her with a bag of chocolate that she was drooling.
“Bayooooo!” Petunia bayed happily as Aidan shyly extended a hand to pet her pointed head.
I took his candy bag and placed it high on the bookshelf out of her reach. If dogs could curse, Petunia would have rattled off a blue streak.
Will leaned down to pet her. “What is this thing? It almost looks like a dog, and yet it’s totally distorted.”
“That, my good man, is an eating machine. Hamburgers. Cookies. Entire chickens. Spare auto parts. Doesn’t matter, she’ll eat it, especially if it’s coated in sugar.” I gave her a kiss. She smelled like corn chips.
“Her ears are long.” You could tell Aidan was dying to touch one.
“And soft. Go ahead. She loves to have her ears stroked.”
He did so gently. “Why come they’re so long?”
“Supposedly, so she can sweep more smell toward her nose. But really it’s so she’ll be able to collect the last bits of food from her bowl.” And I showed him how Petunia could easily suck on their ends.
Aidan chortled. “I want a dog like this.”
Petunia bayed in approval.
Will said, “I thought you wanted to use the bathroom.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” And hopping up, Aidan followed my directions to the end of the hall.
“Close the door!” Will yelled. Then, as way of explanation, said, “We live in a house of men.”
“Oddly enough, I live in a house of only women. My grandmother, mother, and me.”
He smiled, his teeth a blazing white. Which was when it hit me that this guy, who was by far the hottest member of the male species I’d ever seen off a screen—J.Crew looks, square jaw, gorgeous bone structure, and those eyes—was also standing in our kitchen, where I frequently whipped up my disgusting creations, like pizza-bagel egg sandwiches with hot sauce and salsa.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nah, thanks. I snuck some of Aidan’s candy.” His gaze drifted to Marmie’s half-open bottle of wine and leftover cheese and bread from dinner. “So, where’s your father?”
Adults cringe when they hear this question because they feel sorry for me, the half-orphaned child. But having known nothing but a brilliant absentee dad with zero directional sense, it’s really no big deal. I find it kind of funny.
“My parents broke up before I was born, though since they’re both scientists, I’ve long held suspicions that I’m indeed an alien.”
Will laughed.
I said, “And your tale of woe?”
“Mom’s in L.A.”
; “Oh. Okay.” Kind of odd. “Permanently?”
He stroked Petunia under her flabby chin. “We don’t know. My parents separated last year when Dad got this offer to teach at Tufts. Mom didn’t want to shut down her interior decorating business in California and Dad wanted to return to the East Coast, so we’re doing a test run. Can the three Blake men survive on their own?”
Already I had a million questions. Why didn’t he and Aidan stay with their mother, for starters. But I didn’t think it right to ask, considering we’d talked maybe twice.
Will stood, shook Petunia hair off his cape, and lowered his voice. “Aidan doesn’t know this, but actually it was Mom who wanted the break. From us.”
Geesh. That was harsh. I mean, my mother also lived thousands of miles away, but that was because she worked as an internationally renowned nerd, not because she was in need of some “me” time. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s L.A. It does weird things to people sometimes. Dad and I are hoping that she’ll snap out of it.”
The toilet flushed and I decided it might be wise to change the subject. “And how’s Aidan liking Boston?”
“So-so. He really misses our home and his buddies. He hasn’t been sleeping in his own bed since we got here, so he’s been sleeping with me.”
A vision of Will Blake in bed popped into my head and I blushed, rushing back to the safe, neutral subject of his brother. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Mostly a bad thing. He kicks constantly and tends to wake up with the sun. Then he drags me out of bed to watch cartoons. I’m seriously sleep-deprived.”
I could not be held accountable for my actions if someone dragged me out of my bed at dawn to watch cartoons. “May I just be so bold as to say that sucks?”
“You may. But if sleeping with me helps Aidan adjust, then it’s worth it. That’s one reason why I’m going to Denton instead of a boarding school—so I can be here for him. That said, I’m majorly bumming about leaving L.A. and . . .”
Here comes the part where he mentions a hot girlfriend.
“. . . anyway, it’s kind of weird going to a school where you don’t know anyone and you’re used to being in a place where it’s always sunny and warm and you’ve got tons of friends. It’s a serious culture shock.”
“I bet.” And the girlfriend . . . ?
“I’m trying to get psyched about being here. I know Boston’s an awesome city with lots of history and funky hangouts and—”
“Let me give you a tour!” I had no idea where that came from. I’m not normally in the habit of boldly asking out strange boys. Okay, to be technically correct, any boys. It’s just that Will really got me with the story about his mother, and Aidan not sleeping. Or, maybe, Will really got me with his blue eyes and that sexy jaw. “I’d be happy to show you around.”
“For real?” He looked taken aback, and I remembered what Henry said about Lindsay, how it’s awkward to ask out someone you hardly hang with. “Well, you know . . .”
Fortunately, the powder room door opened and there was a brief sound of water being turned off and on as my hero Aidan emerged to save my self-respect. “I’m done!” he boasted.
“We can take Aidan to the science museum and the aquarium!” I slapped my thigh like this was exactly what I’d had in mind. “Has he ever seen a seal before?”
“We, uh, lived in California.”
Moron. “Okay, then a lobster. I bet he’s never seen a live New England lobster.”
“Restaurants? You know those tanks?” He wiggled his fingers to imitate lobster crawling.
“I’ve never seen a moray eel except on The Discovery Channel,” Aidan said. “They’re mega poisonous.”
“Wicked,” I corrected. “Now that you’re in Massachusetts, young man, your preferred hyperbolic adjective is ‘wicked.’ As in, Petunia is a wicked fat dog. Or, Gigi, you’re a wicked gorgeous creature.”
Aidan gamely played along. “Moray eels are wicked poisonous.”
“Atta boy. Actually the moray isn’t that bad, though all eel blood is poisonous to humans—a fact that won Charles Richet a Nobel Prize for determining that you could die from an allergic reaction to a toxic substance. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Aidan was blunt. “Not really.”
Ah, the refreshing honesty of youth. I switched tacks. “However, if you want to see something really cool, there’s a thirty-foot octopus named Truman in the aquarium’s center tank.”
“Awesome!” Aidan clapped. “I love octopi. Do they have blue-ringed? Those are my favorite.”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to see.”
Will gave Aidan a slight push toward the door. “Great. I’ll text you and we can work it out. Weekends are kind of”—he nodded in the direction of Aidan, who was on tiptoe, trying to reach the bag of candy—“hard.”
“Gotcha.” I fetched the bag and hooked my finger around Petunia’s collar so she couldn’t follow them home. Aidan toddled out the door and Will hung back, letting him go. Taking my elbow, he looked deep into my eyes and said, “Thanks. That was really nice of you. Means a lot.”
I got all warm, though I tried to act like it was nothing. “Sure. It’ll be fun.”
“For me, too.” He smiled and then jogged to catch Aidan from crossing the street alone. They waved good-bye and turned the corner as I shut the door and realized something. Now I knew why Halloween takes a backseat as you grow up, because there are so many sweeter things to look forward to than Snickers bars.
Like Will.
Not so much that giant octopus.
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About the Author
SARAH STROHMEYER is a bestselling and award-winning novelist whose books include Smart Girls Get What They Want, The Cinderella Pact (which became the Lifetime Original Movie Lying to Be Perfect), The Sleeping Beauty Proposal, The Secret Lives of Fortunate Wives, Sweet Love, and the Bubbles mystery series. Her writing has appeared in numerous publications, including the Plain Dealer and the Boston Globe. She lives with her family outside Montpelier, Vermont. You can visit her online at www.sarahstrohmeyer.com.
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Smart Girls Get What They Want
Credits
Cover photograph © 2013 by Kitty Gallannaugh
Cover design by Erin Fitzsimmons
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
HOW ZOE MADE HER DREAMS (MOSTLY) COME TRUE.
Copyright © 2013 by Sarah Strohmeyer
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Strohmeyer, Sarah.
How Zoe made her dreams (mostly) come true / Sarah Strohmeyer. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Zoe and her cousin Jess eagerly start summer jobs at New Jersey’s Fairyland theme park, but Jess does not get her dream role and Zoe is assigned to be personal assistant to the park’s “Queen,” winning her no friends.
ISBN 978-0-06-218745-1 (pbk. bdg.)
[1. Amusement parks—Fiction. 2. Summer employment—Fiction. 3. Cousins—Fiction. 4. New
Jersey—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.S52152How 2013
2012038163
[Fic]—dc23
13 14 15 16 17 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © APRIL 2013 ISBN: 9780062187468
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