A Tangled Thread

by Chloe Taylor

  “Nice sling,” said Bree in a way that didn’t sound very nice at all.

  Kate, who didn’t have a mean bone in her body, and never knew what to say to sarcastic people, just pressed her lips together and looked down. Zoey and Libby glared at Bree, and Zoey wished Priti were there to tell the girls to buzz off.

  “You must have done something pretty clumsy to get that sling,” Ivy said. “Did you fall down tying your shoes?” She snickered.

  Suddenly, from the table beside theirs, Lorenzo shouted, “Yeah, she’s real clumsy, Ivy! She sprained her elbow scoring the winning goal at the state championships! You’re looking at the team’s MVP.”

  Ivy’s face flushed, though probably more from being called out by a boy as cute as Lorenzo than because she’d insulted Kate’s athletic ability. She looked like she was about to reply to Lorenzo when Shannon quickly stepped in, touching Ivy’s arm to shush her and saying smoothly, “I like your sling, Kate. That fabric is very pretty.”

  Kate managed to say thank you and tell her that Zoey had made the sling. Shannon met Zoey’s eyes, and Zoey could see how much Shannon wished Ivy hadn’t been so mean.

  Zoey decided to let Shannon off the hook. “I’m going to make her a whole bunch of them,” Zoey said nicely, as if the unpleasantness hadn’t happened. “To go with all of her outfits until her arm’s better.”

  “That’s really nice of you,” Shannon said. “C’mon, girls, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  Shannon neatly pushed Ivy and Bree along, away from Zoey, Libby, and Kate, and toward their own table. It sure seemed like Shannon was thinking twice about her choice of friends.

  “The coast is clear,” Libby muttered when the girls were no longer close by. “Whew!”

  Zoey looked at Kate, to see if she was okay, but her face was still red, and she was concentrating on her sandwich. Zoey wasn’t sure if Kate’s embarrassment was from Ivy’s nasty comment or because Lorenzo had rushed to her defense so . . . vocally. Zoey had noticed Lorenzo paying more and more attention to Kate lately, and she wondered if Kate had noticed it as well. Kate didn’t think of boys as potential boyfriends, the way some girls did, so Zoey wasn’t sure if she should mention Lorenzo or not. She decided she’d wait a little longer to bring it up, just in case the idea made Kate uncomfortable. After all, Zoey was just getting Kate to be interested in clothes! There was no reason to rush her to be crushing on boys, too.

  As the girls were finishing their lunches, Zoey noticed Ms. Austen, the principal, approaching their table. Zoey immediately got nervous that somehow Ms. Austen had heard about the nastiness with Ivy and Bree and was coming to talk to them about it.

  But we didn’t say anything mean, Zoey reminded herself. So we can’t be in trouble. I don’t think . . .

  Ms. Austen, dressed in a chic black shift, with a leopard-print scarf knotted around her neck, and bright green pumps, stopped just beside Zoey.

  Zoey saw Libby exchange a nervous look with Kate. Apparently, none of them knew why the principal was singling them out during lunch. But the eyes of nearly every kid in the lunchroom were on their table.

  “Hello, girls. Zoey, do you have a second? Can you come with me?” said Ms. Austen cheerily.

  Zoey nodded, relieved. Ms. Austen had always been very friendly and supportive of Zoey and her design work, and she didn’t sound mad at all. In fact, she sounded excited.

  “I have a package for you from you-know-who in my office,” she whispered. “It’s too heavy to carry here.”

  A package? A heavy package? Zoey wondered what her secret fashion fan, Fashionsista, who regularly commented on her blog and had sent her several awesome gifts in the past, could have sent now. Zoey was so excited, she jumped up immediately, saying “Be right back!” to Libby and Kate, and following Ms. Austen to the office.

  “So how did Kate Mackey’s dress work out?” Ms. Austen asked as they turned the corner of the administrative hallway.

  Zoey looked at her, surprised. “How’d you know about that?” she asked.

  Ms. Austen laughed and flipped her hand at Zoey. “I read your blog, remember? I like to know what my talented students are up to. I really loved the sari you made for Priti, as well.”

  Zoey felt bowled over by the compliments. Ms. Austen was pretty stylish, and she mixed a lot of great vintage pieces in with her work wardrobe. Not to mention she was the principal, and probably very busy, but still took the time to read Zoey’s blog.

  “Thank you,” said Zoey. “Both dresses turned out really well! I had to learn a lot of new sewing tricks to finish them, though. I spent so much time trying things that didn’t work.”

  “Not so much time that you forgot your homework, I hope,” said Ms. Austen, looking serious.

  “No,” said Zoey quickly. “Well, I did all of my homework, but had trouble fitting in time to study. I got a B+ on Mr. Dunn’s test thanks to my study partner, Libby.”

  “Good.” Ms. Austen nodded crisply and opened the door to her office, ushering Zoey inside. “Even fashion designers might need to know when the Mongols ruled China.”

  Zoey laughed, but stopped suddenly when she saw the huge brown box on Ms. Austen’s desk. That couldn’t be the package for her. It was enormous!

  Ms. Austen gestured to the box. “Go on,” she said. “I’m dying to know what it is too!”

  Still in shock, Zoey accepted a pair of scissors from Ms. Austen and began slicing through the brown packing tape around the box. Carefully, she opened the top, and saw a block of white packing foam. She pried it out, and beneath it was a brand-new, superfancy sewing machine.

  “Oh my word!” Ms. Austen exclaimed. “Zoey, this is amazing! Look at all the buttons!”

  Zoey’s eyes bugged out. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be! Very gently, she lifted it out of the foam blocks and set it on Ms. Austen’s desk to admire. It was white and shiny and new, with all kinds of features her old machine didn’t have, like a needle up-down setting, a locking stitch button, and even a one-hand needle threader!

  With this machine, sewing would be so much faster and easier, and her results would be even better!

  “Could this really be for me?” she asked, looking at Ms. Austen. “Are you sure this is from Fashionsista?”

  “I assumed it was,” Ms. Austen replied. “Look for a card.”

  Peering into the box, Zoey spied an envelope with her name on it, and she quickly pulled it out and opened it. Inside was a note.

  Dear Zoey,

  I pulled a few strings (hee-hee) and asked some friends at Speedman Sewing Machines if they would send you a replacement machine since yours is out being repaired. I pointed them to your blog, and after reading about you, they were thrilled to help out! They did ask that you mention this gift and thank them on your blog, for publicity purposes. Sew something fabulous on it!

  Happy sewing!

  Fashionsista

  Zoey couldn’t believe her good fortune. She was still crushed about her mother’s machine, which was currently sitting at a repair shop her father had found, but now she had this amazing new machine to work on. She could probably spend days reading the manual and learning all of its tricks and features. She couldn’t even imagine all the wonderful things she could make with it, and all because of her blog, and her readers, and wonderful fans like Fashionsista.

  Zoey thought back to just a half hour before, when she’d opened her lunch, and wished for something different. Well, she’d gotten something different all right! She couldn’t wait to get the new machine home, to her “fashion studio” in the dining room.

  “You must be doing something right, Zoey,” Ms. Austen said. “Because you are accumulating some serious fans.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Sew, Sew, Sew FANTASTIC!

  You really won’t believe this, any of you, but I am sitting here typing this right next to my BRAND-NEW SPEEDMAN SEWING MACHINE! Principal Austen found me at school today and told me I had a package, and it turned out to be from one of the
world’s BEST fans. (That’s you, FASHIONSISTA! Even though I still don’t know who you are. . . . ) She arranged for Speedman to send me this completely amazing machine. It does everything. I just started flipping through the manual, and this thing even has an autosensor for making buttonholes. You show it the button, and it makes the hole for you. WHAAAAAT? Everything I make from now on will be covered in buttons. (Hee-hee, I’m kidding about that. Maybe.) So, the only thing to do now is start on some new projects!

  Luckily, I’m never short on projects. I’m going to this huge trade show this coming weekend with a REAL fashion buyer, and I’m planning to bring some samples from my accessory line on Etsy. And now that I have this machine, it’ll be so much easier to get them done this week! I’ve even decided to fulfill the extra requests I’d gotten from the Etsy site for made-to-order pieces. I can always use the profit for more fabric, right? After these few requests, though, Allie and I are sticking with our original plan of closing the pop-up shop. Even with my new sewing machine, I have to draw the line somewhere. These last few weeks have been CRAAAAAZY!

  I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’m blabbing on about my new machine when I’ve posted this gorgeous sketch. . . . (At least, I think it’s gorgeous.) This is what I’m planning to wear to the trade show on Saturday. I’ve combined an old denim skirt of my mother’s (classic pencil shape), with some other fun pieces from my closet, and a shirt I’m making this week with the same technique Jan used to make her scarves into a belt. I’m thinking of calling it the Tangled Shirt, because of all the fabric that’s looped together. What do you think?

  I will, of course, be carrying an Accessories from A to Z tote bag from my pop-up shop! I hope to load it up with goodies!

  With the trade show to look forward to, and so much sewing and experimenting to do on her new machine, the week flew by. Zoey was enjoying her new Speedman sewing machine so much, she started to feel guilty about it. Her mother’s machine continued to sit at the repair shop, and while she missed its familiar, comforting presence, her new machine allowed her to zip through projects faster than she ever had dared dream. She made slings for Kate, and headbands, belts, and bags to bring to the trade show, and the new shirt. She felt like she could tackle any sewing project that came her way!

  Saturday morning, as she was finishing a few of the made-to-order items she’d agreed to do for her final Etsy customers, her phone buzzed. She lunged for it, hoping it was Libby, to discuss the big trade show the following day. Instead, she was thrilled to see it was a text message from Priti, asking her if she could video chat with her in India!

  Zoey quickly texted back, Yes, yes, yes! Just doing some sewing . . . surprise, surprise.

  Zoey logged on to the video chat website and was almost giddy when she saw Priti’s face appear on her cell phone’s screen, looking shiny and happy against a backdrop of colorful lanterns and well-dressed people dancing.

  Zoey realized it had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen her friend. That was way too long as far as she was concerned.

  “Priti, I MISS YOU!” Zoey yelled into the phone. “What are you doing?”

  Priti grinned. “I’m at the WEDDING! It’s nighttime here in India. I’m wearing your beautiful sari, see?” She held the phone away from her and panned it down, so that Zoey could get a good look at the sari.

  “It looks totally awesome,” Zoey said. “Are you having the best time? School is not the same without you!”

  Priti nodded. “We’re having a blast—even my parents are having too much fun to argue. It’s been a really good trip for all of us. But, listen, I called you because the funniest thing has happened!”

  “Tell me! And hold the phone back a little so I can see the wedding!”

  Priti laughed, and turned the phone around so its camera would catch some of the party going on. It looked so beautiful! So much light and color everywhere. Zoey could hear the Indian music, which was loud and joyful, and reminded her of Priti’s personality.

  “Beautiful!” Zoey exclaimed. “Next time your family goes to India, you’re bringing me!”

  Priti laughed again, and said, “Okay. It’s a deal. Seriously, I called because my cousin’s best friend, Nita, is wearing a sari just like the one you made me! Isn’t that funny?”

  Zoey was doubtful. A sari just like the one she’d made? But Priti’s sari was made of a lot of different fabrics sewn together, with ruffles on it and everything. Zoey had designed it to be unique, to be a sari and not be a sari at the same time. It seemed very unlikely there would be another one like it.

  “Really?” asked Zoey. “Hmm.”

  “No, really,” Priti insisted. “Wait a second, I’ll find her. . . .”

  Zoey watched as the camera’s phone bounced around before finally landing on the bride’s friend, Nita. There it was—an almost identical copy of the sari Zoey had worked so hard to make for Priti.

  Zoey was flabbergasted. An identical sari?

  “But how?” Zoey managed to sputter. Zoey was nearly certain she’d never seen a design like that before in her life. Although, her life hadn’t been a very long one, so maybe there were designs like hers already out there. Still, it seemed unlikely. “How could it be so similar?”

  Priti sighed. “Well, Zo, I sent my cousin a link to the sketch you posted on your blog, because I was so excited about you making it, and she likes to sew.”

  Zoey wondered if Nita might have copied the dress. Maybe she didn’t intentionally copy it, Zoey reasoned. Maybe she saw the sketch, and it stuck in her subconscious or something, and then when she was making herself a sari, it sort of came out looking very similar. That could happen, right? It wasn’t that big of a deal. It was one dress, one design.

  When Zoey didn’t speak, Priti continued. “Anyway, Nita thought it was beautiful! She loved it so much, she decided to make it herself!”

  Zoey listened but had a hard time keeping a smile on her face. So that’s why it looked nearly identical—it was. Still, her design . . . her special design! It was incredibly flattering that someone had liked it so much they’d decided to make it themselves, but . . . to copy it exactly?

  “And that’s not all,” Priti went on. “Nita has a clothing shop here in India, and she’s getting so many compliments on her sari tonight that she’s thinking of selling it in her store! Isn’t that amazing? You’ve inspired a real shop owner! You’re so talented, Zoey!”

  Zoey stared at her phone, watching the beautiful wedding going on behind the image of Priti’s familiar face. The moment felt surreal. There Priti was, one of her best friends, halfway around the world, telling her someone in another country was going to copy one of her designs and sell it in a store.

  Zoey felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She was at a loss for words.

  “Priti, I . . . I,” she started to say. She wasn’t sure quite what to say to Priti, who seemed to think this was all good news. “That’s my design,” she finally managed to say. “How can she copy it and put it in her store?”

  To Priti’s credit, she looked truly confused. “What do you mean, how? Remember when you saw that dress you loved in Très Chic that was, like, a million dollars? And you said you loved it and wanted to make one? You did! You made a dress just like it! And you’ve worn it all over the place. Well, you would have if Buttons hadn’t peed on it.”

  Zoey bit her lip. That was true, she had made a copy of a big designer dress. And there was hardly a difference between it and the real version Libby had worn . . . and had since given to Zoey to keep after hers was ruined.

  “But it’s different,” Zoey tried to explain. “I wasn’t making copies to sell to other people. I just made one for myself. You know what I mean?”

  Priti nodded, looking crestfallen. She thought she’d been giving Zoey good news. “Yeah, I guess, but since it’s all the way over here in India, I thought you’d just be flattered. . . . Wait, hang on.”

  Priti’s face disappeared and the camera pointed directly at
the waist of her sari. She heard what sounded like Mrs. Holbrooke talking to Priti, then Priti reappeared.

  “Hey, my mom says I need to stop video chatting and hang out with my family. Listen, I’m sorry! I’ll call you back as soon as I can!”

  The video chat disconnected, and Zoey was left staring at her phone. She looked back at the accessories she’d been working on, intending to pick up where she’d left off before the call. But for some reason she didn’t feel like sewing.

  Zoey flopped on her bed and grabbed an old stuffed animal she refused to put away in the attic, because sometimes there were days when a girl just needed a stuffed animal to hug. Hers was an elephant, and she squeezed him tight and thought about her conversation with Priti.

  She didn’t know what to think of what Nita had done, and she felt confused about the whole situation. Was it okay, or wasn’t it?

  Her phone buzzed again, and reluctantly Zoey grabbed it to see the message. It was Priti, of course, with a long e-mail.

  Zoey,

  I’m hiding in the bathroom typing this so my mom won’t see. I feel TERRIBLE I made you so upset! I honestly thought you’d be so excited. I talked to Nita just now and told her how you felt, and that it was YOUR design, etc., etc. And she said that designs can’t be copyrighted, not really, and, anyway, she loves the sari sooooo much that it would be a shame to not make it available, just to a few people here in India. But she doesn’t want to upset you.

  I really, really feel terrible, because you are my bestie-bestie and I hate anything that makes you unhappy! I’ll be home in just a few days, and I’ll fill you in on the whole trip, and maybe, hopefully, I can make this whole mess up to you! Please tell me you feel okay about all this.

  Hugs,

  Priti

  Zoey turned off her phone’s screen and rolled over, curling up on her side. She didn’t feel okay. In fact, she felt sort of sick over the idea of someone else making and selling her very special design. She wrote a quick e-mail back to Priti saying that she wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet, but wishing her a great rest of the trip.