by Chloe Taylor
“Who cares? The point is, you don’t have to worry that Lorenzo has a crush on her,” Priti announced.
“I don’t even want to think about Lorenzo right now. I just want to have fun with my dates,” Zoey said. “Come on, let’s dance!”
The film crew shot the girls dancing together. When the DJ put on a slow song and they left the dance floor, the cameraman told Zoey, “Now that’s more like it. You finally look like you’re having a good time.”
“I am,” she said, putting her arms around Kate, Libby, and Priti. “My friends are the best dates a girl could have.”
“Looks like it,” he said. “You’re lucky.”
“I know,” Zoey said. “I am.”
But then she saw Lorenzo and Ivy slow dancing again, and it still gave her a twinge.
“Hey—do you want to dance?”
Zoey felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Gabe standing there, smiling.
“Oh . . . um . . . sure.”
When she walked onto the dance floor with Gabe and he put his arms out, it didn’t seem as awkward as it did with Lorenzo.
“So I guess you really were on TV, huh?” Gabe said, with a grin.
“You didn’t believe me?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were just coming up with an excuse because you didn’t want to go to the dance with me. I mean, as excuses go, it was a pretty wild one, but . . .”
“If I was going to make an excuse, I’d make one you wouldn’t be able to prove wrong,” Zoey said. “But I wouldn’t have done that anyway.”
“I know,” Gabe said. “The whole being followed around by a camera crew thing confirms it.”
They smiled at each other, and Zoey thought about how much easier it was to dance with him than it was with Lorenzo.
“So how does it feel to be a TV star?” Gabe asked. “Am I going to have to ask for your autograph every time I see you in class now?”
Zoey laughed. “Only on Monday. After that it’s back to normal.”
“Look, all your friends are out here too.”
Zoey looked around, and sure enough, Libby, Kate, and Priti had all been asked to dance. The disco ball hanging from the ceiling flashed hundreds of sparkling moonbeams across the gymnasium floor. The camera lights went on, and she realized this was being filmed for Fashion Showdown. She was having her Cinderella moment—just not with Lorenzo.
When the song ended, she thanked Gabe for the dance.
“Hey, have you taken your picture in the photo booth yet?” he asked.
“No,” Zoey said.
“Come on. Let’s do it,” he said, grabbing her hand.
They all ended up trying to squeeze into the photo booth together—four girls and Gabe—and ended up with some very funny pictures.
Zoey was sad when the gym lights came on, signaling the dance was over.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Gabe said. “Don’t forget—I want your autograph.”
“You got it!” Zoey said.
Winston was waiting outside with the limo. Zoey said good-bye to the rest of the Fashion Showdown crew, who were heading back to New York in the van.
“Thank you for everything! You guys are the best!” she declared.
“We’re glad you had a good time,” Tom said.
“And Mean Girl Ivy knows who’s the real star of this school!” Brandon said.
“I have to get this guy back to New York,” Cara said. “He’s a bad influence. Bye, honey!”
The girls waved at the Fashion Showdown van and then piled into the limo.
“Did you young ladies have a nice time at the dance?” Winston asked.
“It was the best!” Priti exclaimed. “So much better than last year.”
“Magical.” Zoey sighed.
“You were the best dates ever,” Kate said.
“Definitely!” Libby agreed.
Winston put on music, and they sang the entire way back to Zoey’s house.
Mr. Webber made the girls pose for picture in their dresses before their parents came to pick them up.
Priti begged Zoey to tell them more about her trip. “We want to hear the stuff you didn’t put on your blog. All the juicy details.”
Zoey started to tell them about her adventures, but as the energy from the dance gave way to her exhaustion from the long day, she began yawning.
“I want to hear all about New York too, but Zoey is tired,” Mr. Webber said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
Zoey tried to protest, but she yawned again instead. Finally, she said, “I’ll call you,” and she stumbled upstairs. She promptly fell asleep, still wearing her dress and tiara.
- - - - Chapter 11 - - - -
Not a Dream, a Fashion Fairy Tale!
Have you ever had the kind of magical evening where you’re having so much fun, you don’t want it to end, ever? That was last night. Thank you, THANK YOU to everyone at Fashion Showdown for helping me to get to the dance. You are the best fashion superheroes!
Imagine showing up at the school dance in a suuuuuper streeeeeeeeeeeetch limousine, followed by a film crew. It definitely made us the center of attention—something I’m not used to being every day. Well, any day!
What were the best parts? Let’s see . . . Dancing with my dates, Libby, Priti, and Kate. Slow dancing was fun too—but my favorite slow dance wasn’t with the guy I thought it would be with; it was with someone else. Weird, huh? Oh, and trying to squeeze five people into a photo booth for funny pictures. Coming home to see Dad and Marcus, who I missed while I was in New York. Eating Dad’s pancakes in the morning. I even guessed the secret ingredients (marshmallows and Nutella and chocolate chips) on the first try.
If I watched a TV show about what happened this weekend, it would seem too good to be true—going to New York, being a guest judge on Fashion Showdown, meeting Aubrey Miller and Christophe Pierre. Thinking I was going to miss the dance, but then having the entire Fashion Showdown team make it work so that I could go in amazing style! I guess it proves that magic really can happen—if you’ve got good friends.
Oh! I know you’ve been asking for pictures of the dress, but I still can’t show you. You’ll have to tune in to Fashion Showdown next Friday at eight p.m., when ALL WILL BE REVEALED!!! I’ll be watching in the comfort of my living room. My friends are coming over for a screening pajama party. It’s going to be SEW MUCH FUN!
Everyone was sitting on the couch in front of the TV—in their pajamas—waiting for the commercials to end and Fashion Showdown to begin. Even Zoey’s dad was wearing pajamas!
“Hurry up with the popcorn, Marcus,” Zoey called. “It’s about to start!”
“Just because you’re on TV, doesn’t mean you can turn into a diva,” Marcus said as he came into the living room carrying two huge bowls of steaming buttery popcorn.
“Let her play diva tonight,” Lulu said. “But only tonight.”
“It’s not every day you’re on TV,” Mr. Webber agreed.
“I know, I’m really proud of you, Zo. Would I be wearing these if I wasn’t?” Marcus asked, pointing to his pajamas. Somehow, he had found footed pajamas—the kind that look like a baby’s onesie and zip up in the front—covered with neon guitars and music notes.
Everyone laughed, but Libby laughed so hard, she almost started to cry. When she could speak again, she explained, “Oh my gosh, Marcus. I’ve been trying not to laugh, in case they were your favorite pajamas or something!”
“Thanks, guys, I needed a laugh! I’m so nervous,” Zoey said. “What if I sound like an idiot, with gazillions of people watching?”
“You won’t!” Kate assured her.
“I was there, remember?” Lulu reminded Zoey. “And at no time did you sound like an idiot—except when you couldn’t speak at all, and I’m sure they edited that out.”
Zoey laughed and threw a popcorn kernel at Lulu. “Thanks a lot!”
“Quiet! It’s starting!” Priti exclaimed.
All eyes
were glued to the television as the Fashion Showdown theme song played during the same opening sequence Zoey had watched so many times before. But now that Zoey had actually been there, it looked different. She knew how many people were just off set, working to make the program run smoothly.
Oscar Bradesco introduced the contestants and the challenge—and then the camera moved to the judges. There she was! But what had seemed like forever during the taping turned out to be only a second or two of screen time during the actual show.
“Wait! That’s it?” Priti said. “You were only on-screen for, like, thirty seconds!”
“I don’t care,” Zoey said. “As long as I wasn’t saying anything dumb.”
“So far so good,” Marcus said. “But there’s still twenty minutes left in the show.”
Zoey knew he was just teasing her. Marcus had been just as excited to watch the show as she was.
But the rest of the program had been heavily edited too. After the long day spent on set—the hours of taping after overcoming her nerves and doing lengthy critiques of each dress—each of her responses were cut to about a sentence. And the whole segment at Mapleton Prep lasted all of one minute—just a visual of Zoey walking into the dance in her dress with her friends and then a brief snippet of them dancing together. All in all, Zoey’s time on-screen during the entire episode of Fashion Showdown added up to a grand total of three and a half minutes.
But it didn’t matter. When the final credits rolled across the screen, everyone in the Webber living room stood up and gave her a standing ovation.
“You were amazing!” Kate exclaimed. “I don’t know how you got the courage to do that!”
“I’m so proud of you, Zo,” her dad said, coming over and drawing her into a huge bear hug. “You were a real pro!”
“Yeah, sis!” Marcus said, rubbing Zoey’s head affectionately. “Who’da thunk?”
“I knew you’d be awesome,” Priti said. “Because you just are.”
“I’m saving my dress forever,” Libby said. “So that when you’re a famous designer, I can say I own an original Zoey Webber.”
“Stop, you guys,” Zoey said. “Or I really am going to turn into a diva!”
“Don’t worry,” Marcus said. “I’ll be here to keep that from happening.”
“Seriously, though . . . I really love New York and all, and I can totally see myself living there someday. . . . Like, when I’m a grown-up and stuff,” Zoey said. “But for now, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here.”
Her father and her aunt Lulu had to find tissues suddenly. Zoey went to each of them and gave them a kiss on the cheek.
She didn’t notice Priti, Libby, and Kate disappearing into the kitchen.
“SURPRISE!” they said, coming out with a cake in the shape of the dress Zoey wore to the dance. It had CONGRATULATIONS TO ZOEY, OUR FASHION STAR! written on it in gold icing.
“You’re a star,” said Libby, “but you’re also the best friend ever!”
The following Monday at school, Shannon sidled up to Zoey while she was getting books out of her locker.
“Hey, Zoey—I saw you on Fashion Showdown,” she said, looking around anxiously, as if she were worried Ivy or Bree might see her. “You were awesome. It must have been so cool to be on the show.”
“Yeah, it was,” Zoey said. “It was amazing.”
“Just . . . be careful. Some people are really jealous, even though they’d rather cut off their arm than admit it,” Shannon said, her voice so low, it was almost a whisper.
“Okaaay,” Zoey said, not sure what to make of what Shannon was telling her, especially when she said, “Well, later,” and walked off quickly. She assumed Shannon meant Ivy and wondered if Shannon was warning her that Ivy was up to something.
Zoey shrugged. She’d just be on her guard and face whatever came. She wasn’t going to let Ivy or anyone get her down.
When she walked into English, her classmates started clapping. It took Zoey a moment to realize they were applauding for her.
“Great job, Zoey!”
“You were amazing, Zoey!”
“SO COOL!”
It was like she’d gone from nobody to somebody overnight, just because she’d been on TV. Kids who’d never paid much attention to her before were smiling and wanting to high-five her as she walked by to get to her desk. Zoey was surprised that it didn’t feel good. Instead, it felt . . . strange.
Especially when she saw Ivy, sitting on her hands, making it clear she wasn’t clapping.
“Hey, how does it feel to be Mapleton Prep’s TV star?” Gabe asked when she sat down.
“Really weird,” Zoey confessed. “Do you think that’s weird? That it feels weird?”
Gabe chuckled. “No, I don’t. I’d think it weirder if it didn’t feel weird.”
Zoey breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. I was starting to think I was crazy or something.”
“I . . . hope you . . . um . . . . don’t think I’m crazy if I tell you I . . . uh . . . had a great time dancing with you the other night.”
Gabe was blushing as he said it, and Zoey felt her cheeks start to flush too.
“Oh . . . no . . . I mean, no, you’re not crazy. I did too.”
Gabe smiled, his face lighting up. Zoey was relieved when Ms. Brown started class, because she wasn’t sure how she felt. She’d had a crush on Lorenzo for so long, but her dance with him hadn’t been like she’d imagined. Gabe was nice and fun but . . . she was confused. It didn’t make sense she’d had so much more fun with the guy she didn’t have a crush on than with the one she did. Maybe she just wasn’t ready for dating and boys and all the stuff that went with them . . . yet.
The one thing that did make sense was Sew Zoey. Ever since her visit to New York, Zoey was bursting with ideas for new designs. She couldn’t wait to finish her homework every night so she could take out her sketchbook and transfer the images she saw in her head onto the smooth white pages. Her readers seemed to love them too. And not just her usual fans—ever since the Fashion Showdown episode aired, her blog was getting more hits than ever. The traffic counter was practically spinning out of control. One thing was clear—ready or not, Sew Zoey was hitting the big time!
Want to know sew much more?
Here’s a sneak peek at the next book in the Sew Zoey series:
Stitches
and
stones
Woo-hoo for Spirit Week!
Spirit Week is coming up at Mapleton Prep, and I can’t wait! Every day has a different dress-up theme, so as you can imagine, it’s right up my alley. There’s Hat Day, Twin Day, Backward Day, Decades Day, and School Colors Day, so I’ve been sewing up a storm, working on outfits for the week. On Friday there’s going to be a Spirit Assembly with awards for the most creative costumes and—believe it or not—a karaoke competition!
I made a tulle skirt to wear for Hat Day on Monday, but I’m still lacking the most important part . . . the HAT! Hopefully, I’ll be solving the problem later today. My friends and I are heading over to Priti’s house to raid her family’s closets. Her parents are from England, and as her dad says, the English are “mad hatters.” I can’t wait to see what surprises Priti’s mom has in her closet. She said we could borrow them if we promised to be very careful to not get them dirty. I told her not to worry; I’ll guard them with my life!
We also have to practice the song we’re singing at the big karaoke competition: “Be Yourself” by Las Chicas. I love that song; I just can’t stop playing it—which is starting to drive my dad and brother bonkers. Since I’m the only girl in the house, sometimes I feel the need to stake out some territory (even if it’s just by playing ubergirly bubblegum pop songs on repeat)! Besides, I’m just getting in the spirit for Spirit Week!
“So do you all have the Spirit?” Priti Holbrooke asked her friends Zoey Webber, Kate Mackey, and Libby Flynn as she opened the front door to let them into the house. She was wearing a huge hat that bore a remarkable resemblance t
o one of the fancy flowerpots Zoey’s aunt Lulu bought for her decorating clients.
“Well . . . definitely not as much as you have,” Zoey said. “Where did you get the flowerpot?”
Priti laughed. “It’s Mom’s. She wore it to my uncle’s wedding.”
“Doesn’t it give you a headache?” Kate asked.
“No,” Priti said. “But it’s hard to see out from under it. And forget trying to kiss people. I think they made up air kisses because of hats like this.”
She pretended to kiss Zoey on either cheek.
“Help me! I’m being hattacked!” Zoey laughed.
“Wow, I want to see the rest of the hats,” Libby exclaimed. “But . . . I’m hoping there are a few that are a little . . . um . . . smaller?”
“No worries,” Priti said. “There are plenty to choose from. Come on, let’s go hat hunting!”
The girls traipsed up to the Holbrooke’s spare room. The closet doors had already been flung open, revealing stacks of hatboxes as well as hats piled one on top of the other on shelves.
“I wish people wore hats more here.” Zoey sighed. She lifted one of the hatboxes off the pile and opened it. Inside was a white fascinator, which was constructed to look exactly like a sprig of orchids at their most beautiful stage of flowering. “I mean, look at this. It’s . . . perfection!”
“Oooh!” Libby squealed, “Can I try that?”
Zoey had been hoping she could wear it, because it would look amazing with the tulle skirt she’d made, but she said, “Sure,” and handed it to Libby, who slid the combs carefully into her short copper hair, arranging the fascinator at a jaunty angle.
“What do you think?” Libby asked.
“You look amazing!” Kate exclaimed.
The fascinator really did look great on Libby. And there were still plenty of unopened hatboxes.
Priti opened another hatbox and pulled out a pink woven straw cloche with a delicate half veil held in place by a small cluster of pearls and feathers. “Kate, this is so you.”