Cut from the Same Cloth

by Chloe Taylor

  It was Lulu’s turn to laugh. “Zoey, I can see you counting in your head! Don’t worry about it, honey. You can’t miss this opportunity for anything.”

  Zoey had told Lulu—and only Lulu—about the show. She couldn’t keep it completely to herself. Not surprisingly, Lulu was just as thrilled about it as she was.

  “Thanks,” Zoey said. “I just hope the producers can talk Dad into letting me go. . . .”

  Lulu nodded. “Me too. I think it would be an amazing experience for you. And how lucky that your grandparents made you and Marcus both get passports recently!”

  Zoey agreed. Her mother and Aunt Lulu’s parents, who lived in Arizona, were planning to take them all to Mexico over the summer and had requested that everyone get passports in advance.

  “Let’s not talk about the show too much, though,” Zoey said. “Because then I’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t work out. As a matter of fact, I had a real reason for coming over today, and this is it!”

  She bent down to pull a neatly wrapped package from her tote bag and passed it across the table to Lulu.

  Looking surprised but pleased, Lulu read aloud the tag tied to the package. “ ‘For my favorite new cousin. Love always, Zoey.’ ”

  “Awww, Zoey!” Lulu carefully unwrapped the package to find a beautiful, handmade fabric doll, complete with a dress and bonnet. It had yarn hair, neatly plaited into two braids. “Zoey, I adore it!” Lulu exclaimed. She hugged the doll, her eyes filling with tears. A TV commercial had made Lulu cry the last time they were together, and she had explained to Zoey that being pregnant was making her emotional. But Zoey could tell, pregnant or not, her aunt truly loved the gift. “Let’s go put it in the nursery right now!” Lulu suggested, wiping her eyes. “C’mon.”

  Zoey followed her aunt down the hall to the yellow, white, and gray nursery. Lulu placed the doll lovingly on the seat of the glider and then went to the closet.

  “I’ve been organizing!” she told Zoey. “A closet fit for a baby fashionista, don’t you think?”

  Zoey couldn’t believe how tidy everything was. All the outfits she’d made, as well as gifts from the baby shower, were hung on hangers and arranged by size and color. “Wow, Aunt Lulu, you’ve been busy!”

  Lulu smiled and looked around the room. “I know,” she said. “Apparently, some moms-to-be go through a nesting phase, when they try to get everything in order. I just don’t want to be fussing with laundry when the baby is here.”

  Zoey smiled too. “That makes sense. And I’m sure he or she will keep you pretty busy for a while!”

  “True.” Lulu nodded quickly and then looked searchingly at Zoey, as if she were about to ask something important. “I was wondering: Would you like to be sort of a mother’s helper for me some days after school or on weekends when your cousin comes, Zoey? It won’t be very glamorous—lots of dishes and laundry and holding the baby while I take a shower. But I sure could use your help since John can’t take much time off work. Plus, you’d get more quality time with the baby.”

  Zoey didn’t have to think twice. “Of course, Aunt Lulu! I’d love to do that. I can cook a little bit too, if you want. Pancakes and spaghetti, mostly. And grilled cheese.”

  “That sounds marvelous,” Lulu said. “What a lucky baby this will be, to have all of us here to welcome it. Him. Her. It’s so hard not knowing!”

  Zoey giggled. But inside, she was thinking about how Lulu must have known that Zoey was worried about seeing less of her when the baby arrived. Already, since Lulu had married, things had changed. Uncle John lived there now, and soon, the baby would too. Zoey was sad to say good-bye to some of her traditions, but she was genuinely excited about what was around the corner.

  “I’m so excited for you and Uncle John,” Zoey said, and meant it.

  “Thank you, Zoey,” said Lulu. “That means more to me than you know.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Cute Overload!

  Some people might think it’s a little strange that I’ve designed matching outfits for my new cousin and my aunt’s dog, but my “canine cousin,” Buttons, is like a member of the family! She’s my aunt’s other baby, and therefore, she should have an outfit to match her new human sibling, right? And can’t you just imagine some cute pictures of them in their outfits, snuggling together? I’ve seen so many pictures online of dogs with babies napping on their tummies. It’s like the babies think the dog is a huge pillow or something!

  I’m also excited to have a tiny person to design things for. Baby clothes are pretty basic to sew, which is nice, and require very little fabric! My aunt told me she could really use some “sleep sacks” for the baby, so I’m going to do some research on baby safety and figure out how to make those. She said they’re like little sleeping bags with armholes that zip up and keep the baby warm at night. A lot of parents like to use the sleep sacks instead of blankets, which can get twisted. So that’s my next to-do item to help get ready for the baby! Thank goodness I’ve gotten so speedy at putting in zippers. If any of my readers have other ideas for useful things I could make for the baby, please post in the comments. I’d be sew grateful!

  By Monday morning, Zoey had bitten off all her nails, waiting for news about Fashion Showdown Junior. Her father was scheduled to talk to Rashida later that day, so Zoey was pretty sure she’d know by dinner whether it was a yes or no. Unfortunately, dinnertime felt like weeks away.

  She stood at her locker, trying to remember which books she needed to put in her backpack for class, but she was so distracted she could hardly remember her morning schedule. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she jumped a mile.

  “Sean!” she yelped. “You scared me to death!”

  Sean shrugged impishly and grinned. “It’s not my fault you were in outer space. We’re at school, you know. Mapleton Prep. Your name is Zoey.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, Sean.”

  Then he took a step closer to her, carefully eyeing students as they walked by, as if to gauge whether or not they were listening. “I have to tell you something,” he said under his breath.

  Zoey’s pulse sped up. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to tell her. “What?”

  “Fashion Showdown Junior,” he whispered. “They called my parents. Thanks, Zoey—I can’t believe you recommended me! That was really nice of you.”

  “So you’re doing it?” Zoey whisper-shrieked. She looked around also, making sure no one else heard. Their lockers were right off the main hallway at school, and everyone was stopping to get their books and chat with friends.

  Sean’s face tightened, erasing his usual expression of good humor. “I don’t know if I am or not. I’m dying to, but my parents are being weird about it. I didn’t even text you about it last night because I’m pretty sure they’re going to say no.”

  “Oh no, Sean, why? Because of all the travel?”

  Sean shook his head, his jaw clenched with what looked like anger. “Nah. They don’t want me doing a TV show about fashion and sewing. They think everyone will harass me about it.”

  Zoey was astounded. She’d been in home ec with Sean earlier in the year, and yes, at first some of the other guys had thought it was strange that Sean could sew so well. But once he’d helped them with their projects, and unjammed their machines a few times, they stopped talking about it and left him alone.

  “But, Sean, you’re the president of the school’s Fashion Fun Club. And you helped make the costumes for the musical last year. Everybody knows you sew. . . . I thought all that stuff was kind of over?”

  He nodded slightly. “Yeah, well, it is. Pretty much. But I think it’s because Fashion Showdown Junior is going to be a nationally televised show, and my parents don’t want me to be on TV. I don’t know. Maybe they think their friends will recognize me on TV and then say things.”

  Sean’s voice was steady, but Zoey knew him well enough to sense how hurt he was. It was one thing to have a parent worried about you traveling the globe and quite another to have
both of them worried their friends might disapprove of you doing what you love.

  “Maybe my dad can talk to them?” Zoey offered. “Or Ms. Austen? She’s really excited about the show.”

  “Ms. Austen?” Sean asked. “How does she know?”

  Zoey nearly slapped a hand over her mouth. While she’d told her girlfriends about Ms. Austen and her dad, she still hadn’t told Sean, and Zoey intended to keep it that way. “Um, my dad called her about me potentially missing some school days. She was really nice about it.”

  Sean thought a moment. “Hmm. Well, let me know what your dad decides. If you’re officially going, maybe my parents will change their minds.”

  “I hope so,” Zoey said. “And remind them about all the awesome male fashion designers out there! This is an opportunity for you to do something amazing.”

  Sean sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly. “I know. You’re lucky you have such a supportive family, Zoey.”

  Zoey nodded, realizing she hadn’t often stopped to think about that. She just assumed that her dad and Marcus and Aunt Lulu would always back her up because they always had. By now, sewing had become so much a part of her life that she couldn’t imagine her family discouraging her from doing it.

  “Don’t worry,” Sean said, eyeing Zoey’s crestfallen face. He nudged her playfully with his shoulder, trying to get her to smile. “I haven’t given up yet. So you shouldn’t either.”

  Zoey was relieved to see Sean acting like Sean. She nudged him back and grinned. “Good,” she said. “Then I won’t give up. You, me, and Pair-eeee.”

  “You mean Paris?”

  “In Paris they call it ‘Pairrrr-eee.’ You know, in French?” she joked.

  “Well, if by some miracle I do get to go on the show, you can be my translator, ’kay?” Sean smiled.

  “Absolument!” Zoey agreed, but then saw Sean’s confused look and translated for him. “Absolutely!”

  Even though she knew her dad wouldn’t be talking to Rashida until later in the day, she kept hoping he would call. She knew he was probably just busy at the university, where he was a sports physical therapist, but she couldn’t help wonder if his silence meant he had bad news and wanted to deliver it in person.

  When she got home from school, she decided to start her homework immediately. Whatever news she got later, she wouldn’t be able to focus on her work, so she wanted to finish it early. Marcus went down to the basement to play video games with headphones on so Zoey could study in peace.

  When her dad walked in, just after five thirty, the house was so quiet that Zoey nearly jumped out of her skin. She searched her dad’s face for clues. But it looked perfectly normal. Not excited or guilty or happy or regretful.

  And he was carrying a large pizza box. Oh well, she thought. Even if he says no, at least we get pizza for dinner.

  “How was your day, Zoey?” her dad asked casually, heading into the kitchen as if it were any other day.

  Zoey jumped up to follow him. “Dad, do not torture me. Tell me what happened on your call! Please!” Zoey said “please” so desperately, she even surprised herself.

  “How about we eat first,” Mr. Webber suggested, going to the sink to wash his hands. “I’m starving.”

  She couldn’t believe how insensitive he was being. “Dad! Seriously?”

  Her father smiled but then caught himself. He bit his lip. “Just open the box, Zoey.”

  Zoey lifted the lid. On top of the pizza, written out in black olives, were the words “Bon Voyage.” Thankfully, Zoey knew that “bon voyage” meant “have a good trip.”

  “You mean I can do the show?” she squealed.

  Her father nodded, smiling from ear to ear. “I already signed the contract and e-mailed it.” Zoey threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “You are the best dad ever,” she said.

  He laughed. “And if I’d said no, would I have been the worst dad ever?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted. “But I would have been soooooo disappointed.”

  Just then Marcus came upstairs. He stopped and looked at their dad. “She’s going?” he guessed. “I could hear that squeal through my noise-canceling headphones!”

  Zoey nodded happily. “YES! And there’s pizza for dinner, so it’s great day for all the Webbers!”

  Marcus grinned. “How’d Zo talk you into it?” he asked their dad.

  Mr. Webber chuckled. “She didn’t. When I talked with Rashida today, I grilled her about every possible thing that could happen. But she explained that contestants who don’t have an adult family member along with them will always be chaperoned, and that even the sightseeing will be done as a large group. Based on what she told me, Zoey, you might be begging for some privacy by the end of the trip!”

  Zoey let out a huge breath. “Privacy, schmivacy,” she said. “I’ll be sewing all day and then getting judged on TV! I’ll be too tired and nervous to care about alone time.”

  Marcus laughed. “That’s probably true.” He studied his sister a moment and then said, “I think you’re really brave, Zoey, to go on this show. It’s going to be hard work, but you can do it.”

  Zoey was touched. She knew that going on the show was a risk, and that if she did badly, everyone at school would probably know about it. Especially kids like Emily Gooding, who seemed intent on proving that Zoey was a no-talent hack. Still, it was nice to know that Marcus believed in her. For the first time, Zoey started to wonder if Sean’s parents weren’t letting him go because they were afraid he couldn’t do it. Maybe he needed someone to be in his corner.

  “Dad, would you talk to my friend Sean’s parents?” she asked quickly. “Rashida asked him to be a contestant too, but his parents are worried about him being on a show about fashion design because he’s a boy or something.”

  Mr. Webber frowned. “Hmm, that’s a tough one, Zoey. If they want me to explain why I’m letting you go, I will, but it’s not really my place to tell other parents what their kid should or shouldn’t be allowed to do.”

  “But it’s so unfair,” Zoey pressed. “Lots of guys are fashion designers.”

  “Honestly, it seems unfair to me too,” said Mr. Webber. “Maybe they could call Essie. If they know that the principal is supportive, maybe they’ll change their minds. After all, Essie helped me make the final decision today—”

  Zoey cut in. “Wait, Ms. Austen made the call?”

  Mr. Webber nodded cautiously, sensing Zoey’s unhappiness. “Well, sort of. I needed another adult’s opinion. Someone who wasn’t your parent and who could be more objective.”

  “Why her?” Zoey asked. “And not Aunt Lulu?”

  Zoey could hear the accusatory tone in her voice, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t know why she sounded so harsh or felt so annoyed. She knew she should be grateful to Ms. Austen, but she felt like Webber family decisions were none of Ms. Austen’s business.

  Mr. Webber spoke calmly. “As a matter of fact, I spoke to Lulu today also. But she’s rushing to finish several large design jobs before the baby comes . . . and she isn’t exactly objective when it comes to you, sweetie.”

  Marcus looked from Zoey to Mr. Webber and then back to Zoey again. “Let’s eat,” he blurted to break the tension. “This pizza smells too good to sit around getting cold. And this conversation’s getting a little too heated, if you know what I mean.”

  Zoey tried to calm down as they sat down for dinner and Marcus served up the pizza. She took a bite of a slice with the B from the word “Bon” and hoped she’d feel better about everything soon. For now, though, her stomach was turning.

  CHAPTER 4

  Plant Pants!

  News flash, Sew Zoey readers: The big fashion secret I couldn’t tell you before will be revealed imminently! “Imminently” was a vocab word last week, can you tell? First, I have to tell my best friends in person at school tomorrow.

  To tide you over, I can tell you about my science fair project results. I have to bring all my radish plants to school toda
y to reveal the winner: It was the classical-music plant, Plant C! To be scientific about it, low-frequency sounds in classical music can activate enzymes and cause plant DNA to replicate, which basically means the sound waves help plants grow. Wish they made me grow too. I wouldn’t mind being a few inches taller! But the point is: If you have a garden, try playing a little Vivaldi! I made these plant pants in honor of my experiment and am wearing them today. Aren’t they springy?

  Zoey maneuvered carefully into school: her four plants packed into the bottom half of a box so they wouldn’t tip or spill, and her large poster board and charts tied up together with string and a handle so she could carry them like a briefcase. Marcus had given her a ride to school to make it easier for her to transport her things, but the walk to her locker was precarious.

  It was Zoey’s first year doing the science fair, and she was excited that her experiment had gone so well. As she made her way to her locker, she was surprised to see kids staring at her and whispering and then turning to chat with one another. Then she heard one person whisper sharply, “Show off.” Zoey glanced down at her plants and posters and then at her pants, wondering if people thought her pants were too show-offy. They’re bold, maybe, she thought, but no more than usual.

  As she approached her locker, she was surprised to see Kate, Priti, and Libby standing there, looking eerily similar to the kids she’d passed in the hall: standoffish.

  “Guys, what’s up?” Zoey asked, setting down her things. “Why are you all staring at me like I have five heads?”

  “You could have told us, Zoey,” Priti said accusingly.

  “Yeah,” Libby added. “I mean, it’s a big deal.”

  Kate didn’t say anything, but she wouldn’t meet Zoey’s eyes and instead stared at the box of plants on the floor.

  Zoey was still confused, but she had a feeling her bold pants weren’t the problem. “Wait, what?”

  Just then Sean walked up and said, “Congratulations, Zoey!”