by Coco Simon
“You must know how it feels, because you were new,” Olivia said. “Half of the girls won’t even talk to me. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be a total loser.”
And with that, she got me. I felt like I owed it to her to be her friend.
“Hey, I can’t believe I haven’t showed you these yet,” I said, changing the subject as I reached for my phone. I held up the screen so she could see. “My dream shoes. I found them in the Kara Karen boutique in SoHo. What do you think?”
“Oh my gosh, they’re fabulous!” she said, practically screaming. “They’re the greatest shoes I’ve ever seen in my entire life!”
“I know!” I replied.
Then we heard my mom’s voice coming from the kitchen.
“Girls? Are you doing homework in there?”
“Of course, Mom!” I replied, and then Olivia and I burst into giggles.
CHAPTER 10
Trying to Find the Right Mix
The rest of my day with Olivia was really fun. We did our homework, and Mom made Caesar salad, fish, and rice for dinner, and Olivia had funny stories to tell about her Chihuahua, and everyone seemed to like her.
Then, while Olivia and I were waiting for her dad to pick her up, Olivia asked me something.
“So, you know, I was wondering,” she said. “You were saying how exclusive the BFC is. Is the Cupcake Club exclusive too?”
It was an awkward question. We always got down on the BFC for not inviting new members, but we had never invited anybody to join the Cupcake Club either.
I replied with Alexis’s standard answer.
“Well, it’s more than a club, it’s a business,” I said. “So we keep it small, you know? So we can actually make a profit.”
“Oh, well, I was just wondering, that’s all,” Olivia said. “I mean, it sounds like fun.”
She wasn’t asking outright to join the club, but it was a pretty big hint. And I kind of felt like she had a point. If we were a club, we should be open to everybody. Maybe there was a way to separate the club part from the business part somehow.
I knew I was going to have to talk to the Cupcake Club about this, and I kind of dreaded it. I had already promised Katie that Olivia wouldn’t be in the club. And now I was kind of going back on it.
I had my chance to bring it up the next night at our Cupcake Club meeting. After school we all walked to Alexis’s house. She and Emma live on the same block, and it’s close to the school, so we don’t have to take the bus. We gathered around Alexis’s spotless kitchen table, and she took out her laptop.
“So, everyone agrees on Mia’s designs for the cupcakes?” Alexis asked, and we all nodded. “Before I can make up a shopping list, we need to decide on flavors. Emma, what did your brothers say?”
“Well, Matt loves peanut butter and jelly more than anything, so he was wondering if we could do a P-B-and-J cupcake,” Emma said. “Katie, I remembered that your mom made you one for the first day of middle school.”
Katie nodded. “They’re pretty easy. You make a vanilla cupcake, and then you put grape jelly into an injector thingie and squirt some into each cupcake. Then you top it off with peanut-butter-and-cinnamon frosting.”
“The little basketball will look cute sticking out of the peanut butter frosting,” I said. “The colors will work together.”
Alexis started typing. “So besides our usual ingredients, we will need grape jelly, peanut butter, and . . .”
“Cream cheese,” Katie said. “I’m pretty sure the peanut-butter frosting is made with cream cheese. Oh, and we already have the cupcake injector, so we don’t need that.”
“Cream cheese,” Alexis said aloud as she typed, and then she looked at Emma. “Okay, what about Sam?”
“Sam said that everything we make is delicious, so he doesn’t care,” Emma said.
“That is so sweet!” Katie said.
“He is the best,” I added.
Emma made a face. “You should smell his sneakers after he goes running,” she said. “Anyway, we still need to pick a flavor.”
“I am dying to try out my new cupcake plunger,” Katie said. “Maybe we could do, like, pudding-filled cupcakes or something.”
“Mmm, pudding cupcake,” Alexis said. “So, like, a vanilla cupcake with chocolate pudding?”
“Vanilla pudding would go better with the blue icing,” I pointed out.
“But the pudding will be inside the cupcake,” Alexis argued.
“Yes, but when you bite into it, you’ll see the pudding,” I said.
Alexis nodded. “Good point. Okay, then. We need some boxes of vanilla pudding. I like this. A cupcake with a surprise inside will get people talking. It’s good for business.”
“It’s kind of a lot of work, though,” Emma said. “I mean, we’re doing six dozen cupcakes, and both of them have extra stuff inside them.”
I figured this was my chance to jump in.
“Maybe we just need some extra help,” I said casually.
Alexis narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“Like, maybe, once in a while, we could invite people to help us,” I said. “People who are interested in being part of the Cupcake Club. We wouldn’t have to split the profits with them or anything.”
“You mean people like Olivia,” Alexis said flatly.
“Well, yes,” I said. “I mean, she pointed out that the Cupcake Club seems kind of exclusive, and we don’t want to be like the BFC, do we?”
“Of course not,” Emma spoke up. “It’s just . . .”
“Olivia likes you, but she hardly ever talks to us or tries to be nice to us,” Katie blurted out.
“Katie’s right,” Alexis agreed. “When we’re in lunch, she’s always looking around the room, like she’s scoping out someone better to talk to. It’s like we’re not good enough for her or something.”
“And she is such a flirt!” Emma jumped in. “Anytime a guy comes near her, she turns into a whole different person.”
“What does that have to do with making cupcakes?” I asked.
There was an awkward pause for a moment. Alexis and Emma and Katie looked at one another. Finally, Katie spoke up.
“I think Mia has a good point,” she said. “We don’t want to be exclusive, like the BFC. But, remember, we’re not just a club. We’re a business, too.”
“So, maybe we can keep the business separate,” I said. “Businesses hire people, don’t they? Maybe we could hire Olivia to help us with the cupcakes.”
“But then we’d each make less money,” Emma said. “Oh, and that reminds me. I have an extra dog-walking client on Saturday. Can you come help me after practice? Like I said, I’ll split my fee with you!”
“I should be done by eleven,” I said. “Is that okay? I would love to help. I still don’t have enough money for my shoes.”
“Which is another reason why we shouldn’t hire Olivia to help with the cupcakes,” Alexis said.
“Okay, you win!” I said. “But maybe there’s something else we could let her do where we don’t have to pay her. Let’s just think about it, okay?”
Alexis shrugged. “Sure. Now let’s get back to our shopping list.”
And just like that, we were back to business again, which was okay with me. Even though Olivia wasn’t part of the club, at least my friends weren’t mad at me. I could never stay mad at my Cupcake girls!
CHAPTER 11
How Could You Forget a Whole Kid?
On Wednesday night I Skyped with my dad. He gave me a laptop with a webcam, just so we could see each other on the days he doesn’t have me. I have to admit that it’s kind of nice to see his face instead of just talking on the phone.
“Hola, mija. How’s it going?” Dad asked after his face popped up on the screen.
“Good,” I replied. Sometimes I don’t really know what to say with him. “I got an A on my Spanish quiz.”
“Good job, mija!” Dad congratulated me. “I’m so proud of you.”
; “Thanks,” I said.
“So, I wanted to talk with you about the next weekend I have with you,” Dad said.
“You mean the weekend after this one,” I said.
“Right,” Dad said. “I checked your schedule, and I know you have a soccer game that morning. But I was still hoping you’ll come out on Saturday afternoon. Because I was wondering if you’d want to go to the American Museum of Natural History with me and Lynne and Ethan on Sunday.”
I was puzzled. “Ethan? Who’s Ethan?”
“Remember, I told you,” Dad replied. “Ethan is Lynne’s son. He’s five years old.”
“Um, no, you definitely did not tell me,” I said.
“I’m sure I did,” Dad protested.
“Well, I think I would have remembered that,” I said. “Seriously, how could you forget to tell me about a kid?”
I could see that Dad was getting a little frustrated with me. “Well, I’m telling you now. He’s a sweet little boy. So how about the American Museum of Natural History?”
Now, my favorite museum in New York is the Metropolitan Museum of Art, because there are these awesome costume exhibits. I had a feeling that five-year-old Ethan probably didn’t want to look at costumes and that’s why we were going to the natural history museum. I haven’t been there since I was about five.
I could have complained, but Dad seemed so happy about it all, and at least he was asking me, right? So I decided to be mature about it.
“Sure, Dad,” I said. “We can go to the museum.”
Dad was practically beaming with happiness. “We will have fun, I promise. I can’t wait, mija.”
“Okay, Dad. Love you,” I said.
“Love you, too!” And then we signed off.
Mom walked by my bedroom door. “Talking to your dad?” she asked.
“He was asking about next weekend, if I can come after my soccer game,” I said. “I told him okay.” I left out the part about going to the museum with his new girlfriend and her son, because I didn’t want her to feel weird.
Mom nodded.
“Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I’m going to help Emma walk dogs this Saturday after my game,” I said. “For the shoes, of course.”
“Good for you,” Mom said. “And Eddie and I were talking. If you want to rake some leaves this weekend, we’ll pay you.”
Inside, I groaned. I hate raking leaves. But I love shoes more, so I answered her happily.
“I’ll do it!” I replied. “I will be the best leaf raker in all of Maple Grove.”
So Saturday, after my early soccer game, I began Operation Save for Shoes. Mom dropped me off at Emma’s house, so that I could help her with the dogs.
Emma was outside waiting for me.
“I’m so glad you can help,” she said. “I have this new client, Mrs. Oliver, who has two dogs, and she’s watching her sister’s dogs while her sister is away, and it’s hard for me to walk four at the same time.”
“It’ll be fun,” I said. “I walk Tiki and Milkshake all the time.”
Then Emma handed me some brown plastic bags. “For . . . you know, clean up.”
I nodded. I was pretty used to cleaning up after my Maltese.
“We can walk there,” Emma said. “She lives over on Thompson Street.”
As we were about to leave, Emma’s little brother, Jake, ran up. His blond hair was all messy and he looked adorable, as always.
“Emma, I want to come! I can help!” Jake said.
“Jake, I already told you, Mrs. Oliver’s dogs are too big for you,” Emma said. “Go back inside. Dad’s watching you this morning.”
Jake’s blue eyes got wide. “Emma, pleeeeease?”
He looked cuter than any kitten video you’ve ever seen on the Internet. I don’t know how Emma resisted him, but she was pretty firm.
“Inside, Jake.”
Jake frowned, but he listened to Emma and ran right inside.
“Thank goodness,” Emma said. “He can be so annoying!”
Listening to Emma made me think of that kid Ethan. If my dad and Lynne got serious, that would make Ethan my little brother.
“Seriously, Emma,” I said as we walked. “I know you said that Jake is annoying, but we all think Jake is so cute. Is it really that bad having a little brother?”
Emma looked thoughtful. “Well, most of the time it’s okay. But he can be annoying a lot. Like, I never have any privacy because he’s always bugging me. But then sometimes I look at his face and just want to hug him, you know?”
I nodded. “It’s just . . . my dad wants me to meet his new girlfriend, and she has this five-year-old kid, and it’s freaking me out a little bit,” I admitted. “I was an only child for a long time. Then I had to get used to having an older brother. I’m not sure I could handle having a little brother, too.”
“I think about being an only child sometimes,” Emma confessed. “But then I think I would miss my brothers sometimes. Even Matt.”
“Well, maybe Ethan will be as adorable as Jake,” I said. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Besides, your dad just started dating this woman, right? So it’s not like it’s serious,” Emma said.
I thought about the way my dad’s face lit up when he talked about Lynne, and I wasn’t so sure.
We stopped in front of a small gray house, and Emma used a key to open up the back door.
“Stand behind me,” Emma warned.
I did as I was told, and just in time, because four huge, slobbering yellow dogs bounded to the door and pounced on Emma. She’s shorter than I am, so I was surprised they didn’t knock her down. With her blond hair and blue eyes and pretty dresses, Emma doesn’t exactly look tough, but she’s one of the toughest people I know.
“Sit!” Emma commanded, and all four dogs sat at once, gazing at her expectantly. Emma took four leashes off a hook on the wall.
“I’ll leash them up, then you can take Goldie and Tigger,” she told me.
“Which ones are those?” I asked, because all the dogs looked pretty much the same.
“I’ll give them to you,” Emma said, and soon I was holding on to leashes with a giant dog at each end. I was pretty sure they both weighed a lot more than I did.
Emma is a real pro, because she led the way as we walked the dogs down the street, and all four dogs followed her, like furry soldiers. Goldie and Tigger didn’t even pull or strain, and I was glad, because walking two tiny Maltese had not prepared me for this.
When the walk was over, we brought the dogs back to Mrs. Oliver’s house and Emma took an envelope from the kitchen table before we left and locked up. She handed me fifteen dollars.
“Here’s your half,” she said. “Any time you want to help out, just let me know.”
“Thanks!” I said.
When I got home, my arms were already aching, but Eddie greeted me with a big smile—and a rake.
“Can I please eat lunch first?” I moaned before he even said a word.
“Why not? The leaves aren’t going anywhere,” Eddie joked.
So after I ate a cheese sandwich I raked . . . and raked . . . and raked for hours. I mean, literally, hours. I’m not exaggerating. My body hurt all over and I was exhausted, but I didn’t care, because Eddie gave me twenty bucks. I didn’t need much more to get the shoes. In fact, I’d probably have enough money after we got paid for Matt and Sam’s party.
That night, I stretched out on my bed and gazed at the sketch of the shoes I had drawn.
“Soon, soon, you will be mine,” I whispered, and then I laughed because I realized I sounded like a creepy movie villain or something. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t wait to get those shoes!
CHAPTER 12
My First Design Client
The next morning I woke up to the sound of my phone beeping. My CC friends know to never text me before nine a.m. on a weekend. Maybe it was Dad? He knew better than that too.
Groaning, I reached for the phone and looked at the screen through blurry e
yes. It was from Olivia.
Want 2 hang out this afternoon?
I had to think for a minute. I still had an essay to write for English class, but that wouldn’t take long. Mom hadn’t said anything about plans for today. And I definitely didn’t feel like raking more leaves.
Sure. What do u want 2 do? I typed.
Let’s hang at ur house, Olivia replied.
That sounded okay with me.
C u at 1, I typed.
TTYL!!!! , she responded immediately.
Then I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I went downstairs later, Dan was sitting at the kitchen table eating a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.
“You must have been tired, Mia,” Mom told me as she walked into the kitchen. “You even slept later than Dan.”
“Hey, I don’t sleep late,” Dan protested.
“Do you want some eggs?” Mom asked me.
“I’ll just eat some cereal,” I said, reaching for the cabinet. “Oh yeah, and is it okay if Olivia comes over for a while? Like, at one?”
“Just as long as it’s okay with her parents,” Mom replied.
I got a bowl, a box of cereal, and some milk from the fridge and started to get my cereal ready, still yawning. Then I heard my phone beep in my pocket. Another text.
I took out my phone and saw that this text was from Katie.
Want 2 see the polar bear movie today?
“Oh no,” I said out loud, and Dan looked at me quizzically.
I remembered talking to Katie about seeing the movie, but I don’t think we had set a date. I really wanted to go, but it would be rude to cancel on Olivia.
I also thought about making some excuse to Katie, but then I realized Olivia would probably talk about it at lunch tomorrow. There was no easy way out of this.
Can’t. Olivia coming over. Maybe 2 nite? I cringed as I typed those words.
Can’t go 2 nite. Mom and I are going 2 her friend’s for dinner, Katie wrote back.
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I went with a frowny face.