Ella sits at a table so she can rest her leg. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” I say, munching on some chips. “And that your bone isn’t broken.” Then I stare at the floor. “But your phone—” I pull it out of my pocket. “It’s not so great.” I meet Ella’s eyes. “It’s not even turning on now.”
Ella leans forward to examine it. She cups the phone in her hands, staring at the web of cracks. The corners of her mouth pull down into a frown. Bailey and the Bees sit on the other side of the gym by the ticket table, counting change. I hold my breath.
“I’m so sorry about what happened,” I finally say. “I’m sorry about everything.”
“It’ll be fine. Anyway, my parents have insurance for the phone.” She smiles as if it’s all really okay.
“So we’ll both be phoneless for a while, since Flippie doesn’t count.”
“Actually, you won’t be phoneless.” Ella grabs her plaid tote bag and opens it. “Because you, Karma Cooper, have”—she hands me a phone—“this.”
“What?!!!!!!!” I gasp at my raspberry-colored cell. “Floyd! But how? I don’t understand.”
“Life is full of miracles.” Ella laughs as she watches me brush my fingers over the screen.
“Oh my gosh. I love you! I-L-Y! I-L-Y!”
Across the gym, girls turn to look at us.
I blink a few times and rub my eyes to see if I’m imagining this. But no, Floyd sits in my own hot little hands. Yes, truly hot because the gym swells with heat and stuffiness. But it’s okay. All the decorations and kids and music fade into the background.
“Seriously. How did you get my phone?”
Ella smiles a huge smile. “Your mom came by the hospital to see me. When she found out I was going to the dance, she wanted me to give it you. She told me that she’s really proud of you, Karma.”
I search her eyes. “Are you serious? My mom said that?”
She leans forward. “Uh-huh. She knew that your flip phone was limited. She said you can have Floyd back for good, with certain conditions.”
“Wow. I just. Can’t. Believe. This.” Laughing, I jump and start dancing around in a circle. I close my eyes and press the phone to my cheek again. A group of volunteers begins gathering around. They stand near us, whooping and clapping. “I’ve been waiting for you forever.” I give Floyd a kiss.
Ella snorts. “Are you going to slow dance with Floyd?”
“Maybe.”
She gives me a sly look. “Or you could slow dance with Auggie.”
I make a face. But for some crazy reason my heart thumps faster as I think about his sky-blue eyes.
“Ewww. Auggie and Karma.” Ella claps her hands and Bailey and the Bees rush over from the ticket table. They slip past the girls gathered around me as I continue to slow dance with Floyd. Ella looks on, laughing.
“What’s happening?” asks Bailey.
“She’s reunited with Floyd!” shouts Megan.
“Woot!” yells Janel.
“Karma got her phone back! All right!” shouts Bailey. She throws her arms around me. And then so do Janel and Megan and Ella, until we are jumble of arms. Even the other volunteers who I don’t know as well are joining our group hug.
After we break apart, Bailey whirls around, surveying the gym. “This place looks awesome. Thanks, everyone.”
“Yeah,” says Megan. “You guys are the best.”
“Those moons and stars with sunglasses are too cute,” says Janel.
“I think they should all go into the yearbook,” adds Megan.
“Love, love the decorations.” Bailey squints up at the wall at my photos of kids at our school. “I could imagine some of those in my mom’s gallery. Good, Karma. Very good.”
Ella and I look at each other and grin. And then I realize something. I haven’t even bothered to turn on my phone.
Megan and Janel head to the gym entrance. “We’re going to open the doors soon,” says Megan. “It’s almost time.” She peers up at the clock on the wall. It’s 6:20. At 6:30 everyone will swarm the gym.
Bailey grabs a bowl of chips and offers some to us. We all munch away. “Sorry that I was acting like a jerk,” she says. “I just wanted it all to go perfectly.”
“No, I’m sorry I was acting like a jerk,” I say, biting into a chip.
Ella taps her chest. “No, sorry I was acting like a jerk.”
“You weren’t acting like a jerk,” I say. “I got your phone locked up at the office, and got you in trouble.”
“Yeah. True.” Ella stretches out her other leg. “But I shouldn’t have said some things.”
“Ditto.”
“Ditto on your ditto.”
Bailey crunches on a chip. “Ditto on your ditto on your ditto.” Then we all crack up laughing.
The Crutch
It’s 6:23. The dance starts in seven minutes. I take out my brush and smooth my hair. Ella sits next to me, her crutches leaning on one side of her chair. Nearby, volunteers munch on some cookies. We sit by the punch bowl.
“You look nice,” says Ella.
“Thanks.”
“You’ll never believe what happened between me and my mother.”
“What? What won’t I believe?” And then suddenly I know. “Your mother caught you with make-up and stuff.”
She nods.
“Oh my gosh. Did she go crazy on you?”
Ella smiles. “Karma, you can always read my mind. . . . Yes, she started screaming!”
I feel an invisible thread pull me closer to Ella—closer than we have been in a few weeks.
“It happened on Monday, actually. When I called my mom to get my phone from the office, I forgot that I had on make-up. Mascara, some blush. A little eye shadow. And um, my change of clothes.” Ella shakes her head. “She was so mad. She said she couldn’t trust me anymore. And then she started crying. It was terrible.”
“So that’s why this week you weren’t changing into your skinny jeans or wearing make-up.”
“Yeah, she took it all away.” A smile grows on Ella’s face. “But I got it back.”
“What happened?”
“Mom apologized in the ER. She doesn’t want me to keep secrets. She said I can wear a little mascara to school as long as I don’t glob it on. And on special occasions I can wear eye shadow.”
“And tonight is a special occasion.”
“Exactly.” Ella bats her eyelashes.
“Are you sure it was your mother?”
Ella nods as she leans forward.
“Maybe you should fall off a bike and almost break your ankle more often.”
“Maybe . . . and maybe not. It really hurt.”
Anytime
Four minutes before the dance starts, the music booms. A few kids wander in, and the volunteers cluster around the table to munch on snacks. A couple of teacher chaperones chat together in the corner.
As Mrs. Grayson props open a side door, a breeze flows into the gym. “It still feels stuffy,” she says, “but it will cool down soon.”
I stand next to Ella. “You can borrow my phone anytime.”
“Thanks,” she says. “You’re the best.”
I smile and motion toward myself. “Tell me more about how I’m the best.”
“The bestest best friend.”
My smile grows bigger, even though beads of sweat drip down my neck. I finally have my best friend back.
Bailey yells at some kids from across the gym, “You guys, can you please get over to the ticket booth? We’re going to need more people. The doors are about to open.”
“It’s almost showtime,” I say.
“Yup,” says Ella.
I peer outside the open side door to the picnic benches. The rain stopped.
“Do you want to sit down on one of the picnic benches outside for a bit before the dance starts?”
“Sure,” says Ella.
We walk around the basketball hoop toward the side exit—or rather, I walk and Ella hobbles. Leaning in, I whisper to El
la, “You know, I didn’t die without my phone, and not having Snappypic. It was kind of easy—once I got used to it.”
“I know.” She smiles and I smile back as I tuck my phone safely away in my back pocket. The sun sets in the dusky sky.
And together, we walk out of the stuffy gym and into the cool air. Gazing up, I see a honey-yellow moon peeking through the clouds.
My Stats:
0 followers
0 people I’m following
0 LIKES of nothing
1 real phone back, with limits
1 camera, and 1 cool family
1 very cool BFF and lots of new friends
Mood: Not bad, not bad at all—Awesome!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
An epic number of LIKES to:
My warm and wise editor, Alyson Heller, who “liked” Karma from birth and nudged her to put down her phone and become an archivist.
The other members of the Aladdin team (from managing ed to marketing and publicity to the art and design folks). Again, Karma (and I) thank you.
Victoria Wells Arms, agent extraordinaire. Maybe it’s the fact that we both have three kids (and a love for Harriet the Spy) that makes you my tween spirit guide.
Rachel Rodriguez, critique partner, word ninja, and, like me, endless blabbermouth.
My Napa writing group, the wine and dessert divas: Jenny Pessereau, Sherry Smith, and Leslie Farwell. Eternal gratitude doesn’t even come close.
Lisa Gottfried and her students at New Tech High School. Your LIKE videos are attention-getting enough to even grace Karma’s Snappypic page.
Roberta and Gerry Schlesinger, who each and every summer feed and clothe and house and entertain and educate their grandson (my youngest son) and provide a treasured writing holiday for me. Thank you, thank you!
Alexandria Lafaye, for being my friend, my teacher and my supporter since graduate school, which seems now like a galaxy far, far away.
The Hollins Faculty critique group, who had a look at the first chapter of Queen of Likes and requested more, more, more!
Erin Dealey, who gave me early input when Karma’s name was still Nolie.
Steven Arvanites, who never said no, even when I asked for the moon. Okay, I didn’t really ask for the moon, but you would get it for me if I did.
Becca Leifer, Carol and Natalie Guthrie. Because at some point all of you mentored me in all things tween and phone and social and media.
My niece Stella Eisenberg. I appreciate your early read and Grandmom Reta’s youthful spirit and writerly instincts!
Deb Wallace and Cindy Kirkland. I hope Karma learns to treat her BFFs as well as you treat each other and everyone you touch.
A big shout out to Rabbi Lee Bycel. If Karma were attending Congregation Beth Shalom, she wouldn’t have skipped the service to hang out in the bathroom on her phone. She’d be live blogging the service no doubt.
Nancy Levenberg, Executive Director of the Napa County Historical Society, for so graciously allowing me to observe the marvelous goings-on in her world. And Alexandra Brown, Research Librarian, and the team of volunteers, for tutoring me in all things archival.
Ari Eisenberg, teen crooner (and son of mine), for writing the song “Queen of Likes.” Check it out on SoundCloud! And speaking of sons, all of my sons—Jonah, Ari, and Micah, have endured me reading them endless variations of the opening and various chapters of the book. Thank you for being such good sports.
Matt Eisenberg, husband and official Costco shopper for our family of boys with supersize appetites, I have a supersize amount of love for you, not to mention for large bags of chips and turkey jerky.
Hillary Homzie lives in Northern California with her family, where almost everybody has a Facebook page, including their giant labradoodle. She started tweeting a lot more in order to better understand Karma Cooper and her social media obsession. Now Hillary likes it almost as much as Karma, so please follow her: @HillaryHomzie. To learn more about Hillary and her other novels for tween readers, Things Are Gonna Get Ugly and The Hot List, visit hillaryhomzie.com.
If you liked Queen of Likes, then you’ll love Golden Girl.
ALADDIN M!X
Simon & Schuster, New York
Visit us at
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authors.simonandschuster.com/Hillary-Homzie
ALSO BY HILLARY HOMZIE
Things Are Gonna Get Ugly
The Hot List
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN M!X
Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Aladdin M!X edition April 2016
Text copyright © 2016 by Hillary Homzie
Cover illustration copyright © 2016 by Solene Debies
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Cover designed by Jessica Handelman
Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia
The text of this book was set in Bembo Std.
Library of Congress Control Number 2015933126
ISBN 978-1-4814-4521-4 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-4522-1 (eBook)
Queen of Likes Page 15