Sweet Thirteen

by Annie Bryant

  “I guess I’ll go look for the glue and stuff,” Avery said after a few minutes of watching Katani tape streamers, Maeve blow up balloons, and Isabel block out letters on the sign.

  “Mmmm,” Katani answered. Isabel was so absorbed in her work, she didn’t even seem to hear!

  Avery dropped down the ladderlike stairs, two at a time, landing in the second-floor hallway of the old Victorian house. The first-floor apartment belonged to the landlady, Miss Pierce, and she barely ever came out. Shy and mysterious, Avery thought as she made her way into the Ramseys’ kitchen. A search through the drawers and cupboards revealed not a single bottle of glue, and there didn’t seem to be any frosting, either. At least I found a knife for Katani to fix the cake. . . .Avery thought, ready to head back up with the bad news.

  Then she had an idea. I’ll ask Miss Pierce!

  The reclusive but kind landlady opened her door on the second knock. “Hello?”

  “Do you have any glue or cake frosting?” Avery asked bluntly. “We’re having a party!”

  “Oh yes, I know! Charlotte told me all about it,” Miss Pierce declared. “I’m so glad to hear you girls are doing so much to make Charlotte’s friend feel right at home.” She gestured for Avery to follow her into the kitchen. “Here is the glue, and I only have strawberry frosting. I hope that will be helpful to you.”

  “Thanks!” Avery turned to leave, but Miss Pierce spoke up again.

  “Would you and the girls like it if I brewed up a pot of my special tea?” Miss Piece winked. “It’s my special-ty.”

  Avery laughed at the silly pun. Charlotte always raved about her landlady’s special green tea with honey, so Avery knew exactly what to say. “Fabulosi-ty!”

  Avery bounded back up to the Tower. “Delivery!” she announced as she walked in. Then her jaw dropped. “Wow!”

  While she’d been downstairs, Katani, Maeve, and Isabel must have gone into overdrive, because the Tower was totally transformed! There were pink and orange streamers wrapped around each of the four windows and dipping across the slanted ceiling. There were multicolored balloons tied onto streamers and taped together into arches.

  “Wowzers!” Avery said again.

  “You like it, mon amay?” Maeve danced around the room.

  “It’s mon amie,” Katani corrected her as she did a quick repair job on the cake, cutting away the flat part and creating a smaller, rounded treat out of the raised half. Then she coated the whole thing with strawberry frosting and decorated the top with chocolate-chip cookie crumbs.

  “That looks sooo much better,” Isabel remarked. “Now, all we have to do is hang the sign!” Isabel used the glue to accent her artwork with pink glitter. Then the girls hung it up so “Welcome to America!” would be the first thing Sophie saw when she came into the Tower.

  “We’re ready!” Maeve sighed happily re-adjusting her pink beret. “I wonder how it’s going for Charlotte at the airport.”

  Air France

  “Terminal E, arrivals,” Charlotte pointed up at a large sign.

  Her dad nodded. “We’re here.”

  Charlotte kept her eyes pinned on the glass doors separating customs from the airport lobby. That’s where Sophie and her parents will come out, she said to herself. Every minute that passed she got more and more antsy. For the thousandth time, she found Sophie’s flight number on the computer screen over their heads.

  “It says arrived,” Charlotte pointed out.

  “Yes, but she still has to get her luggage and go through customs,” Mr. Ramsey reminded her.

  Charlotte bounced on her toes, watching the groups of travelers coming through the glass doors, hauling and dragging huge bags as they arrived in America. All around her other people stood waiting, eyes searching for familiar faces.

  “Grandma Sully!” A young woman next to Charlotte practically leaped over the divider to embrace an older woman wheeling a cart full of luggage.

  “G’day, lovey!” The grandma engulfed her in a hug, and Charlotte was sent back to the year she and her father spent in Australia. Once, she got to go on a rescue mission with a naturalist to save an injured boomer that got attacked by a dingo! When she told the BSG about it, though, they just gave her weird looks until she explained that a boomer was a kangaroo and a dingo was a wild dog.

  Charlotte let her eyes follow the Australian grandma and her granddaughter as they pushed the luggage cart out the terminal doors toward the taxi stand. As they went out, a whole group of women wearing native African clothing came in. Charlotte didn’t know what part of Africa they came from, but when they stopped and chattered excitedly a few feet away, Charlotte could tell from their accents that it was probably near Tanzania. I wonder who they’re waiting for,Charlotte thought. Someone’s son or daughter? A friend? Do they live in Boston, or are they just visiting?

  Then her mind started to wander. She wondered what it would be like if instead of airplanes, people could just travel through tunnels underground from one country to another. Maybe there could be elevator-like chutes that would deliver you instantly wherever you needed to be, without lines or customs or anything. Remember this for Orangina’s story! she told herself, wishing she’d brought along a journal to jot down some notes.

  “Charlotte!” A girl’s high-pitched squeal interrupted Charlotte’s musings.

  “Sophie!” Charlotte cried out, a smile spreading out across her face. “Bienvenue!”The two friends rushed to each other, first saying hello Parisian style with a kiss on both cheeks. Then came the American-style hello—they jumped up and down, holding hands and screaming.

  “You’re here! You’re here! You’re really here!” Charlotte shrieked, and Sophie’s only answer was musical laughter and a tight hug.

  When Sophie finally let go, her mother squeezed Charlotte tightly. “Bonjour ma chérie!How I’ve missed ma petite Charlotte!” She kissed Charlotte on both cheeks.

  Mr. Morel was more restrained than his wife, but he still gave Charlotte a small hug. After greeting Mr. Ramsey, he reminded them that he and his wife were only staying a few minutes to see Sophie off, then they had to change terminals for their flight to Florida.

  “Adieu!” they called as they set off with their bags.

  “Bon anniversaire,” Mr. Ramsey greeted Sophie. “Happy birthday.”

  “I can’t believe you and Papa kept this trip a surprise!” Sophie scolded Charlotte’s dad. “But it is the best birthday gift ever!” She put down her matching suitcases and shrugged off her caramel-colored jacket.

  “Wow!” Charlotte exclaimed, stepping back to take a look at her friend. “You look amazing!” Even though it was the end of April, Sophie was wearing a soft, flowery scarf with a thin black sweater. Caramel-colored leggings under a brown and black plaid skirt finished off the look. Very stylish. Even the shoes she wore were adorable— petite ballet-type flats. She looked like a model. Sophie had always dressed nicely, but there was something different about her this time. Something had changed, but what?

  “You too look very nice.” Sophie smiled, and Charlotte wished she had taken a few minutes to pick out something nicer than jeans to greet her friend. Sophie looks so great after traveling seven hours on a plane, she thought. And I didn’t even change clothes after baking.She touched something crunchy on the bottom of her T-shirt. What’s that? Cookie batter?She was embarrassed that she hadn’t at least thrown on a clean shirt or combed her hair.

  “You’re just being nice,” Charlotte grimaced. “I look awful. Wait till you hear about the great cookie disaster!”

  As they talked Charlotte noticed that it wasn’t just the stylish outfit that set Sophie apart. She’d gotten at least two inches taller since Charlotte had visited Paris. And she’s filled out! Charlotte thought, feeling acutely aware that she still didn’t really need a bra. Wow, I can’t believe this is the same Sophie who used to toss pebbles into the Seine with me while we made up silly stories about the fish living in the river.Charlotte walked proudly beside Sophie toward
her dad’s car, answering all her questions about the people and places she was going to see in the next two weeks. I’m going to be the one to introduce Sophie to America for the very first time! Charlotte couldn’t wait to get started.

  Welcome to America

  When Sophie’s dark hair emerged at the top of the stairs leading up to the Tower, Katani, Maeve, and Isabel erupted into cheers of “Welcome!” and “Bienvenue!” Avery had even found a kazoo, on which she was trying (and failing) to play “The Star Spangled Banner.” By the time the noise died down, Charlotte had made her way up behind Sophie. She watched as the BSG welcomed her friend with open arms and a rain of compliments.

  “We are sooo happy you’re here!” Isabel embraced Sophie first.

  “We’re going to show you all the coolest places in Boston!” Avery promised.

  “Ooh, where can I get shoes just like yours?” Maeve asked.

  Katani touched Sophie’s scarf. “I just looove this. It’s so Parisian!”

  Sophie just kept nodding and saying thank you in her dainty accent. “You look magnifique,” Sophie told Maeve, but Maeve wasn’t so sure. She wished she had picked something more . . . mature . . . something more like what Sophie was wearing!

  “J’adore the welcome sign! It must be the work of Isabel, the artiste, non?” Sophie admired the poster while Isabel beamed happily.

  “You also made me a cake?” Sophie wandered across to the table of refreshments. “And . . . cookies? How wonderful!” She reached for a piece of cookie.

  “Uhhh, I wouldn’t recommend eating those unless you have a steel stomach,” Avery warned.

  “Steal a stomach?” Sophie asked, confused.

  Charlotte was about to explain, but Isabel got there first. “It means, like, a strong stomach. We sort of forgot some of the ingredients.”

  “Ah!” Sophie leaned down and opened up the one small bag she had hauled up to the Tower. “Well, good thing I have brought you all some special treats from Paris,” she pulled out a box that Charlotte recognized immediately.

  “La Baguette!” Charlotte exclaimed. It was her favorite French bakery. Not better than Montoya’s, of course, but a really close second. “You didn’t get the meringue cookies, did you?” Charlotte asked as Sophie lifted the lid.

  “But of course!” Sophie exclaimed.

  Everyone had a cookie, then kicked back on the cushions scattered on the four window seats. Miss Pierce stepped in with a pot of tea during a rare moment of silence in the conversation.

  “Welcome.” She nodded to Sophie.

  “Merci.” Sophie smiled and offered her a meringue. “Have tea with us, s’il vous plaît.”

  “Gosh, no.” Miss Pierce looked nervously back down the stairs. “I should be going.”

  With a few excuses about how busy she was, Miss Pierce told Charlotte to bring the teapot down later and just leave it; she’d clean up in the morning. “Au revoir,”Miss Pierce said, leaving as quietly as she’d come.

  “Hey, Sophie,” Maeve began out of nowhere. “Did Char tell you about my party?”

  Sophie nodded, already sipping on a cup of tea.

  “I already have my dress picked out, but maybe you could help me accessorize?” Maeve asked.

  “Bien sûr! I’d love to,” Sophie replied. “Perhaps I could help you with your hair and makeup also?”

  “Fabulous!” Maeve jumped up and spun around the Tower, using her meringue like a microphone as she explained her party down to the finest details: the exact shade of red for the carpet, the number of doves to be released, and the thirteen different layers of the cake.

  Katani glanced around at the other BSG, wondering if any of them had questions about how all of this was even remotely possible. Maybe they’re just playing along for fun,Katani supposed as Avery pretended to release doves out the Tower windows. And they don’t realize Maeve is serious— seriously in trouble of getting in way over her head!

  “Where are you having this fête, sorry, this party?” Sophie asked innocently.

  “Oh, I haven’t decided yet,” Maeve replied. “There are so many places to choose from.”

  “Sophie,” Avery interrupted, turning from the Tower window that looked out over downtown Boston. “We have a long list of things in town we’d like to show you.”

  “I made a chart.” Katani proudly pulled it out of her pocket.

  “I thought you gave it to me,” Charlotte remarked. She’d looked at the list in the car and wondered if it was too ambitious for such a short visit.

  Katani handed papers to all the girls. “I made copies for everyone!”

  “I love to horseback ride,” Sophie commented. “And the art museum sounds wonderful.”

  “That was my idea,” Isabel said.

  “Oooh, there is a Freedom Trail? And hiking and science museum and—” She studied the other ideas quietly, then threw the list dramatically into the air. “Oh, mes amies! I want to do it all!”

  The girls all threw their lists up, and they rained down like paper doves. Charlotte savored the moment. Maybe, just maybe, Sophie’s visit would be perfect!

  All Grown Up

  An hour later, Sophie and Charlotte shared the last of Miss Pierce’s tea as they snuggled into their beds in Charlotte’s room. “Your friends are incroyable.” Sophie sighed, looking perfectly stylish even after she changed into pajamas and was sitting on the blow-up mattress Charlotte’s dad had set up. “Simply amazing.”

  “They really liked you,” Charlotte replied, setting her teacup on her bedside table.

  “I was a little nervous that maybe they will not like me,” Sophie admitted.

  “Me too.” Charlotte smiled. “I mean, I was worried you wouldn’t like them! Everyone likes you.”

  Sophie shook her head. “Now,” she said, settling back into her bed. “I want to hear all about your boyfriend. Tell me about Nick.”

  “He’s not really my boyfriend,” Charlotte confessed. “He’s more like a boy who likes me.”

  “But the kiss!”

  Charlotte blushed. Sophie had been the first person she’d told after Nick’s kiss. Now she felt a little silly about it. Why wasn’t he her boyfriend? Is something wrong with me that I just don’t feel ready yet? Charlotte felt her cheeks burn.

  “Are there any boys you like?” She turned the questioning back on Sophie.

  “There is Adrien. . . .” Sophie sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Remember Philippe’s best friend? He got sooo cute! You wouldn’t believe.”

  “Mmmm?” Charlotte mumbled, and listened as Sophie rambled on and on about Philippe, Adrien, and all the other boys. Charlotte had never really noticed any of the boys when she had visited Sophie’s school, and she found herself feeling a little bit curious. I’m so glad Sophie’s here!Charlotte thought. For the next two weeks, it’ll be like an endless sleepover. We’ll share all our secrets and crushes . . . just like we used to share our dreams and ideas.

  “Have you seen Orangina?” Charlotte asked during a pause in the conversation. They always used to laugh about the orange cat and pretend he was really a pirate or a wizard in disguise. Charlotte wanted to remind Sophie of their pretend games and tell her about the story she was writing—maybe Sophie would have some ideas.

  But Sophie just yawned. “Oh,” she said. “I don’t worry about that cat anymore! We saw that he is fine on his new boat.”

  Charlotte sat up, feeling a little confused. After all we went through looking for Orangina, Sophie doesn’t think about him anymore? How could that be?

  “Sorry, but I am so tired!” Sophie stretched out on her mattress, and Charlotte noted the bleary look in Sophie’s eyes. They could talk more later. We have two whole weeks together, after all! she thought.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Charlotte suggested. “It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow with school and . . .” She couldn’t recall what was on Katani’s schedule, but it would probably be fun.

  “Okay.” Sophie agreed and after a quick goo
d night, Charlotte turned out the lights.

  Sophie was asleep in minutes, but Charlotte couldn’t settle down. She stared at the ceiling for a long time. Charlotte was so thrilled to finally be reunited with her old friend that she could have talked all through the night! Sophie’s had a long trip, Charlotte told herself. We’ll just catch up tomorrow.

  But after tossing and turning for fifteen minutes, another thought occurred to her. I wonder if the story I’m writing for Sophie is too silly. If she doesn’t think about Orangina anymore, why would she want to read a story about him? Charlotte sighed, but she just couldn’t stop wondering about that ridiculous cat and his adventures. What if the tiny man needs Orangina’s help? But Orangina doesn’t want to listen?

  Charlotte couldn’t help herself. She quietly snuck out of her bed and booted up her computer as ideas spun around in her brain.

  * * *

  Part 2

  Big Bruce Barley

  “My name isss Orangina, mon ami!” the cat said, lifting his paw to let the strange little man stand up.

  “Great! I’ll call you Orry.” He brushed himself off with a blade of grass, then shook one of Orangina’s claws. “I’m Big Bruce Barley.”

  “Big Bruce, did you say?” Orangina growled a little with amusement. “As in gros? Grand?”

  “You got it.” Big Bruce ducked as a bee buzzed past. The bug was bigger than his head! “So . . . want to hear my proposal, mate?”

  But Orangina was gazing down the riverbank, searching for his boat.

  “When they find that I am missing,” he purred, “monsieur will be triste, so sad! He’ll say, ‘Orangina was the most handsome, skilled, and clever cat I ever knew!’”

  “You’re clever, Orry?”

  “Cleverrrer than you.” Suddenly Orangina caught a whiff of barge smoke and took off running down the bank, whiskers twitching.

  He didn’t see the large, dark hole in the ground until it swallowed him up—tail and all!

  CHAPTER