“Frozen yogurt is healthy,” I reassured her. It was one of the few things in the freezer that my sister had let us keep. “Piper says it has probiotics in it.”
“I’m worried about the toppings,” my mom said, squeezing her eyebrows together in concern.
“You worry too much,” I said.
But I guessed she didn’t want to hear that, because she squeezed her eyebrows together extra hard and said, “My biggest worry right now is that Yearbook has turned into a giant time suck for our entire family. And now we’ve got to learn how to PopRat.”
“Whoa,” I said. Because it really surprised me that my mom had used the word suck. Also, I was pretty sure PopRat would make all our lives better.
“I’ll probably only be an hour,” I said. But really, she made a good point. Doing classwork for Yearbook on a Saturday was a drag.
“Okay. I’ll just swing by in an hour,” my mom said.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “I might have to take pictures of fennel sausage next door.”
My mother rummaged through her purse. “Why does a middle-school yearbook need pictures of meat products?” she asked. “It just feels wrong.”
“It really does,” I agreed.
Then she handed me five bucks. “Text me the moment you finish.”
“Got it,” I said. I wasn’t sure when my mom and I would completely regain each other’s trust. But at moments like this it was obvious she hadn’t forgotten that I’d recently been given detention and superglued a map of Idaho to my face.
I hopped out of the car and hurried into the shop. Taking pictures always improved my mood.
“Over here, Perry!” Javier called as I walked through the door.
He was standing next to Fro-yo Unicorn’s manager, Janet. I knew this because she was wearing a name tag that read I’M JANET, FRO-YO UNICORN MANAGER. There were a bunch of cups of frozen yogurt piled in front of them. Jessi was already here too. She was sitting in a booth cradling her neon-pink cast.
“Am I late?” I asked. Because I thought I was exactly on time.
“Javier asked me to get here early,” Jessi said. She grabbed a gummy bear from a small paper cup. It looked delicious.
“Don’t eat the props!” Javier said.
“It’s okay,” the manager said. “I can get you more of those.”
Jessi popped several more into her mouth.
“Aren’t we shooting Fletcher and Reece too?” I asked.
I thought we were shooting all the What’s Hot section at the same time. And since they’d won for seventh and eighth grades, I’d figured they’d be here.
“Fletcher’s hair was way too spiky,” Javier explained. “So I sent him to the bathroom to fix it. And I asked Reece to put on some lip gloss. Venice is helping her. She looked so pale.”
“Venice is already here?” I asked. I was surprised she hadn’t texted me the second she walked through the door.
“Over here!” Venice called.
I turned and saw her in the corner, gently applying a lipstick wand to Reece’s smile. I’d shown up on time, but everything had already started. I guessed Javier was feeling the need to impress everybody after he bombed at the assembly. I got it. But I wished he’d told me to get here early too.
I was trotting over to join Venice when I heard Javier call to me, “No, Perry. We need you over here. Can you help Anya set up the props?”
I stopped. Anya? Last I’d heard, she was too busy to come. Why hadn’t anybody warned me she’d be here? I glared at Javier. And then I glared at Venice. Because it really bothered me to have my enemy sprung on me like this at a yogurt shop after what had happened at the assembly.
“I’ve got it,” Anya said. “What do you think?”
I turned the corner and saw Anya O’Shea standing beside a back booth. I watched her scatter rainbow sprinkles over a mound of pink frozen yogurt.
“I thought fudgy banana marshmallow fluff was the favorite topping,” I said. Why was she putting sprinkles on the yogurt?
Javier came rushing up. “Why are there sprinkles over everything?”
“They’re pretty,” Anya said, smiling and dropping more onto the yogurt.
“Stop!” Javier looked panicked. “We need another cup!”
“I guess I’ll have to eat this one,” Anya said, taking a giant bite.
“Perry, can you handle this?” Javier asked.
“Sure,” I said.
I watched Javier run off into the bathroom.
“He’s a legit mess,” Anya said.
I felt somebody touch me and I jumped. Luckily it was Venice.
“It’s been total chaos since I got here,” she said.
But that seemed weird to me. Because how hard was it to take a few pictures in a frozen yogurt shop? Why couldn’t Javier pull this shoot together?
“When are you going to take my picture?” Jessi hollered. “I’m getting brain freeze.”
“Wow,” I said. “Jessi is turning purple.”
“Oh no. It’s the huckleberry sauce,” Venice said. “It’s stained her mouth. Javier told her not to eat it.”
Why was that even on the table? All we needed was the fudgy banana marshmallow fluff. It was as if I were the only person who understood that fudgy banana marshmallow fluff had won What’s Hot. And the only reason any of us were here was to photograph it.
“Stop eating the sauce!” Javier said. “You look like a zombie.”
That was not a nice thing to tell a person before you took her picture. You were supposed to flatter her and make her feel relaxed.
“Where’s the equipment?” I asked Javier. Even though he already seemed stressed out, I needed to know. Because I had to put on the portrait lens.
“Ask Anya,” Javier said, scrambling over a booth to talk to Reece.
“I didn’t realize he was so scattered,” Venice said.
First the assembly and now this. Either Javier really crumbled under pressure, or Anya was secretly making him crash and burn. I suspected the latter.
Fletcher came out of the bathroom, and his hair definitely didn’t look too spiky. It looked totally flat.
Javier noticed and smacked his forehead.
“Why do you look so weird?” Javier asked Fletcher.
Again, not a nice thing to tell a person right before you photographed him. Anya was laughing. She was a master of creating chaos. I wondered what her parents were like. Seriously. Where had Anya learned her weasel tactics?
“I still don’t know where the camera is,” I said. “Nothing can happen until I put on the portrait lens.”
“Anya!” Javier yelled.
It was like she’d disappeared. Which I wouldn’t have minded. Except I needed the equipment.
“We need pink lip gloss for Jessi,” Venice said. “We have to cover up the purple.”
“You fix that,” Javier said. “I’ll fix Fletcher. Perry, go find Anya.”
It was like I’d been given the worst job ever.
“My mom is going to be here soon,” Jessi said. “I didn’t know it would take this long.”
It really upset me that she was complaining. Derby wouldn’t have complained. He would have been super easy to work with and done everything we asked. And if Javier had said “Don’t eat the purple sauce,” Derby would not have eaten the purple sauce. Hot people, it turned out, were very difficult to work with.
“Anya?” I called as I wandered through the yogurt shop. “Anya?” She wasn’t anywhere. Not in the bathroom. Or under any of the tables. But the camera bag was.
“I found the equipment, but I didn’t find Anya,” I said.
Javier looked so relieved. Luckily, he’d fixed Fletcher’s hair, glossed Reece’s pale face, and de-purpled Jessi’s mouth. Maybe he was a better leader under pressure than I’d given him credit for.
“Great,” Javier said. “One more thing. And I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Don’t ta
ke crappy pictures.”
Wow. That really stung. I always took awesome pictures. I thought Javier could tell he’d hurt my feelings by the way I curled my lips in total horror and confusion.
“What I mean is that I want you to try to take the best pictures possible. Don’t take bad pictures because you’re upset that your friends lost and didn’t make it into the section.” He gave me a big frown. “Don’t go into this with a secret agenda to torpedo What’s Hot.”
Javier really blew my mind with that comment. First, I would never take a bad picture on purpose. I was an artist. I aimed to take perfect shots every time. Second, I didn’t think any of my “friends” had lost. Derby was a geek and I had rooted for him, but he wasn’t my friend. Third, I didn’t have an agenda. And I especially didn’t have a secret one that I planned to use as a torpedo. Fourth, wasn’t Javier smart enough to realize that Anya was behind this meltdown?
“Um,” I said, “I take awesome photos. That’s why Ms. Kenny made me junior photographer.”
And that was when I saw a wave of relief wash over Javier’s face and he broke out in a relaxed smile. “I knew Anya was just messing with me.”
Anya O’Shea really needed to get a life. And stay far, far away from mine.
“Brain freeze!” Jessi yelled, pushing away a pink cup.
“Jessi!” Javier scolded. “You need to look normal. Stop eating the yogurt.”
But I thought it would be pretty funny if Jessi had brain-freeze face for her photo.
It was almost like Javier could read my mind.
“Do not take her picture until her face returns to its normal color,” Javier snapped.
He was really uptight. Venice looked at me with a ton of sympathy. And I appreciated that.
When things were over I was super hopeful that Venice and I could hang out and eat some marshmallow fluff and talk about our lives. She would flip when I told her about Piper, and the food purge, and Drea coming over and getting clothes. But just then Venice’s phone buzzed.
“It’s Leo,” she said.
And I tried to keep myself from making a gagging sound.
“Don’t do that,” Venice said.
We were such good friends that I didn’t even need to make the gagging sound. She could tell that was how I truly felt.
“When you get a boyfriend I’m not going to hate on him,” Venice said.
It made me feel really weird when she said that. Why would I want a boyfriend? My life was great. I didn’t need that. I didn’t even like anybody. Did she think that I liked somebody?
“Stop making that face,” Venice said.
And so I tried to make my face look like my normal face.
“Leo’s mom brought Leo over to say hello,” Venice said. “I’ll be right back.”
And Venice bounced right out of the store. And that just left me and Javier and a million things to do. Luckily, I was great at my job.
Once she stopped being purple, I took an amazing photo of Jessi. And I snapped an awesome picture of Reece. And Fletcher looked very hot and gorgeous, just like out of a magazine, and I didn’t have to give him any guidance at all. His picture looked awesome and he knew it. What a professional.
It wasn’t until it was time to take a picture of the fudgy banana marshmallow fluff that things turned bad.
“Hi, Perry,” a bouncy voice called.
I turned around. It was Drea. And she was wearing one of Piper’s shirts. And a pair of Piper’s leggings. I almost fell over. It was like she’d shown up and rubbed my sister’s clothes right in my face.
“Perry!” another chipper voice called.
I turned and looked in the other direction. It was Hayes. He was standing in the yogurt shop. And he was trying to hand me something. I couldn’t believe it. More skating passes! What was wrong with him?
“Cool, are those skating passes?” Javier asked.
But I just stood there and looked at everybody like I was shocked to death. Because I was.
Javier said, “I know you’re trying to get a good picture of Drea for Yearbook, so I thought you could take one of her eating the fudgy banana marshmallow fluff. No reason to take a picture of the topping by itself. And I asked Hayes to come for the fennel sausage topping. You can thank me later.” Then he winked at me. Then Hayes winked at me. And I turned to look at Drea and she had a terrible smile on her face. And then Anya popped around the corner eating a giant pink cone of frozen yogurt. It was like I was trapped inside a nightmare, except I was wide-awake.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said. I glanced out the window to see if Venice was coming, but she was laughing on the sidewalk with Leo. It looked like they were eating a giant pretzel. Ugh! Where was my best friend when I needed her? Not standing next to me in Fro-yo Unicorn, that much was certain.
When Venice and Leo finally tumbled back into the store, it was like they were a human ball of laughter. I didn’t even know for sure if Venice was breathing, she was laughing that hard.
“Are you guys finished?” Leo asked. “Do you need any help?”
I was already putting the camera back in its case. It was pretty obvious I didn’t need help.
“Perry knocked this shoot out of the park,” Javier said. “You are a Party.”
And it sort of surprised me to hear my secret nickname used in public.
“We only call her that in Yearbook,” Anya said.
“Your nickname is Party?” Drea asked. “That’s so cool!”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need Drea to give me any compliments.
“You should bring your party to the skating rink,” Hayes said.
And that totally freaked me out to be put on the spot like that.
“I would love to go skating,” Venice said.
“We should do it,” Leo said. “How many passes do you have?”
I pulled the tickets out of my pocket and counted them. “Four.”
“Just tell me when you guys want to come,” Hayes said. “I can get you all in.”
“Even my brother?” Venice asked. “He’s been dying to try your Rollerblade ramp.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Hayes said. “Just have Perry call me or text me or whatever.”
I glared at Venice. Why was she putting me in this situation? It was like she wanted me to go out with Hayes whether I liked him or not. Which felt very rude to me.
“Leo’s mom is waiting,” Venice said.
She gave me a quick hug and then grabbed Leo’s hand and headed toward the door.
“Skating will be awesome!” Venice called.
A cluster of bells hanging on the door jingled as it closed.
“We’re done,” Javier said. “Mission accomplished.”
Wow. That was how he felt? It was like Javier and I weren’t even in the same place making the same yearbook. It was like we were living on two different planets.
I was so happy that Venice and I had settled on talking about Lake Pend Oreille, the largest lake in Idaho, for our oral report. Because our other choices—potatoes, trout, fur trade, tourism, geothermal water, precious and semiprecious stones, state seal designer Emma Edwards Green, and the invention of the Pulaski (a special hand tool used in wild-land firefighting)—hadn’t really grabbed me.
Venice sat beside me on my bed as we leaned back on my pillows and zoomed through the Internet on my laptop, looking for reliable sources to quote. Mr. Falconer had a firm policy for all research projects, which required us to turn in a detailed list of all the sources we visited. And at least five had to be linked to official government pages, because he felt those gave out the best and most credible information.
But I wasn’t so sure, because some guy named Hal who lived in Ketchum kept a blog about Idaho lakes. And he seemed to have way more usable information than the sites Mr. Falconer had recommended. Plus, Hal’s came with awesome pictures of his dog, Skipper. As I read through Hal’s blog, I wondered if Venice thought that too.
“So what do you think?” I aske
d, pointing to a photo of Skipper catching a Frisbee in front of a bunch of ponderosa pines.
“We can’t use blogs,” Venice said, sounding super judgy. “Leo said that last year when he did his report on fur trading, Mr. Falconer actually interrupted and told him that he was oversimplifying the early power struggles between the trappers. We don’t want to use any questionably sourced info in case we get called out.”
I blinked at Venice when she said this. Because it sort of broke my heart that on a night when we were hanging out in my bedroom for the first time in forever, working on a report about Lake Pend Oreille, she was thinking about Leo and his lame report on fur trading.
She didn’t notice I was annoyed. “Leo actually made fur trading seem interesting. Did you know if it hadn’t been for a sudden interest in wolverines and ringtail cats, the whole fur industry might have collapsed?”
It made me sad to think of all those furry animals being made into weird-looking hats and robes. But it made me even sadder that it felt like Leo was almost in my bedroom with us.
“Huh,” I said, trying to effectively communicate how frustrated I was with her Leo tidbits.
“Seriously,” Venice continued. “Leo explained to me how the discovery of the silkworm and Europeans’ taste for softer top hats basically killed the entire beaver-trade industry in Idaho.”
After she mentioned silkworms, I couldn’t keep quiet about how I felt any longer.
“I think we should forget about beavers and forget about Leo,” I said. Then I snapped my fingers to let her know I meant business.
“It’s super rude to snap your fingers in somebody’s face like that,” Venice said, grimacing.
I put my hand down, because I wasn’t trying to be super rude. I was actually trying to have a sincere conversation with her about how her boyfriend-mentioning behavior was wrecking both our sleepover and oral report progress.
“Venice,” I said, clearing my throat and sitting up very straight so she’d understand I was being totally earnest. “We’re finally hanging out and working on our report and Leo’s not here. It’s just the two of us. So maybe you could please start talking about Lake Pend Oreille. And all the secret submarine training they do there. Because listening to you talk about your boyfriend all the time is annoying.”
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