Salted Caramel Dreams

by Jackie Nastri Bardenwerper

  “I can’t believe how much you’ve done,” she says when we walk in.

  “Ms. Chloe did most of it,” I say, wondering how I’ll ever thank her.

  Miss Tabitha flashes Ava and me a quick smile, then pulls out each costume one by one.

  “These look amazing! I still can’t believe you did this all in a week,” she says, then returns to the rack. “And who made this?”

  I look up and see her thumbing Cinderella’s gown.

  “That one’s mine,” I say, my voice a whisper.

  “No way. You really made this?”

  I nod.

  “You didn’t order it? Throw some beads on a prom dress?”

  “Nope. It’s my own design,” I say.

  “I’m blown away,” she says as she holds the dress up to herself and sways, letting the gentle layers of tulle and chiffon sway back and forth. “It’s like a dream. So light and airy. It looks magical!”

  “Thanks,” I say, grinning. “So are they good enough?” I ask.

  “Enough for what?”

  “To, you know, use in the play?”

  Miss Tabitha laughs. “Oh my goodness, are you kidding me? These may be better than the originals!”

  A smile splits my face, and my heart is so full. Ava grabs my hand and we jump up and down, collapsing minutes later into a hug.

  “Thank you so much, Jasmine!” says Ava, her hands still locked with mine.

  Miss Tabitha nods in agreement. “These costumes will really bring the show to a new level. Thank you for making these happen—you are a real hero!”

  “I don’t know about that . . .” I say, pinching myself. It’s been a long week and the lack of sleep and hours of focus have left my head spinning. But this scene is real. My heart soars as I think about how my gown, the first dress I’ve made that hasn’t been a complete disaster, will soon be paraded around in front of hundreds. I’m helping make Cinderella actually look like Cinderella!

  Plus, it’s an amazing start to a portfolio for design school—which is originally what I wanted to put together over the winter, before my falling out with Kiara.

  “Next year, I’m putting you in charge of costumes from the start!” Miss Tabitha says, eyes dancing. “Maybe we can convince Ms. Chloe to get the whole DIY club involved. We can even see if she’d be interested in running it here at the middle school as an elective.”

  “Wow, that’s a great idea!” I say. I imagine Ms. Chloe’s dwindling club filled with new girls eager to learn about fashion design, a room full of machines buzzing with excitement. I think of the backstage closet and envision it filled with Jasmine originals, of creating my own tag to sew in them, of using the costumes as the start of my own clothing line.

  Miss Tabitha smiles. “Wonderful. Because something tells me next year you’re gonna need some more help. If you keep doing as well as you did in rehearsal today, you’re going to have a much bigger part on your hands.”

  “Really?” I say. I think of this afternoon’s practice, how I ran through my song like I do when singing to the radio alone in my room. How I hit the high notes and held the long ones for emphasis. Afterward, Ana and Samira had cheered for me, and it had felt good. But I still hadn’t expected Miss Tabitha to notice. Because as good as my voice sounds in my head, I know it isn’t as strong as Ava’s. And my range is much smaller than Courtney’s. Not to mention they both have me beat in the acting department. But still. Today is a win, I think, letting my slightly crooked teeth shine.

  “Thank you,” I say again. Then Ava and I wave goodbye to Miss Tabitha and spill out onto the street, both of us ready to meet Kiara at Dolce. Thinking of Kiara and her conversation tips, a memory from earlier today comes flooding back. Of Joseph at my locker. I try to hide my grin as I replay our conversation, but find I can’t. So I let myself smile wide. And find myself humming under my breath as I wait to tell Ava and Kiara all about it.

  “I can’t believe you did it!” Ava says, skipping down the sidewalk. “And ohmiGod I can’t wait to wear that gown! It’s freaking amazing. Like better than a prom dress!”

  “Don’t get too excited yet,” I say, giggling. “You still need one more fitting so I can get it just right.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. It already looks awesome!” Then Ava stops and pauses, shooting me a sideways glance. “As do you, girl. You’re positively glowing.”

  “What can I say? It’s been a very good day,” I say.

  Ava raises her brow. “Okay. What’s up?” she asks.

  “What do you mean? You heard Miss Tabitha. We’re using our costumes, and I had a good rehearsal. What makes you think there’s something more?”

  “Because you’re giggling! The Jasmine I know laughs and smiles, but is not exactly a giggler.”

  I shake my head, amazed at how much Ava has gotten to know me.

  “All right, well maybe you are on to something.”

  “Like?”

  “Joseph.” His name rolls off my lips in a whisper, like a tuft of cotton candy caught in the breeze.

  “OhmiGod, what happened? Come on! The suspense is killing me!”

  “Five more minutes,” I say. “When we get to Dolce. We have to wait for Kiara.”

  A minute later we push open those familiar glass doors, the smell of ground coffee beans and chocolate surrounding us. Then we skip the line and head straight for Kiara’s table. Before we even sit down, I blurt it out.

  “Today before rehearsal. He waited for me. At my locker.”

  “Joseph?” asks Kiara.

  “Joseph,” I say. “He said we should do something.”

  “Do something?” says Ava.

  I nod. “Uh-huh. Like . . . like a date!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  IT’S SHOW TIME!

  Ava paces around backstage as the stage crew buzzes around us, moving the scenery for the first scene into place.

  “So what do you think?” she asks. “Should I put a few more chalk smudges on my cheeks?”

  “No, you have enough,” I say. “You look perfect.”

  “For a maid,” she says, running her hands through her braids. She’s kept them down for this scene, with those in front dangling loose in her face. The longer ones are caught in a rubber band secured at the nape of her neck. And even though she keeps feeling for her bun, I find that she looks even prettier with her braids framing her face—flowing and free. It’s how I think of Ava these days, with her big open heart, never judging and always looking to add another friend to the fold.

  “You look gorgeous,” I say. “The perfect Cinderella.”

  “Yes, come here, stepdaughter. I have some more chores for you,” says Courtney, sauntering over in her red gown. “You need to wash the carpet, dust the table, polish the silver . . .” She giggles.

  “All right, team. Ten minutes to show time. Every-one in scene one, take your places!” says Miss Tabitha, her voice carrying over the whir of the crowd.

  My nose itches from the thick yellow face-paint globbed on to look like a beak. I purse my lips together and blow upward, but the breeze does little to stop the tickling. So instead I bring my nail to the tip of my nose, pressing down until I feel relief.

  Joseph catches me in the act, surprising me from behind. “Ready, dove?” he asks.

  I jump, then nod. “Makeup still okay?”

  “Looks good to me.”

  “Thanks, your highness,” I say, curtsying as he adjusts his crown. “You ready too?”

  “Can’t wait,” he says.

  My knees shake as I take my place backstage and wait for my first scene. Even with the shining lights, I know the auditorium is packed. I close my eyes, thinking about everyone who will be watching. Mom, Dad, Abuela, Edwin, and Michael all have front row seats. Lori and Cameron bought tickets last week. Kiara’s here with Beatrice and some younger girls from the basketball team. Ms. Chloe said she wouldn’t miss it for the world. So many people. So many eyes. As I pace around, my excitement mingles with my nerves.
>
  Ava is on stage now, along with Courtney and the stepsisters. Joseph and Henry are off to the side. They’ll be going on soon. And as I look around at my new friends, many in costumes we made ourselves, I can’t help but be in awe of all that’s happened and all that’s yet to come. Like tomorrow’s date.

  My heart flutters as I picture it. Tomorrow night, after our afternoon performance, Joseph and I will be going to the girls’ basketball game. Together. It’s the last home game of the season, complete with a bake sale and the school band in attendance, meaning it’ll be extra special. My stomach flips at the thought.

  Thank goodness for Kiara’s conversation tips, I think, then wonder what I’m going to do without her next year. At least her parents decided not to move until school ends in June. But still. We’ve just made up, and soon she’ll be gone.

  I try not to dwell on this as the music picks up and Ava’s strong, clear voice bounces off the walls backstage. We’re in the second scene now, about ten minutes into the play. I’ve got about fifteen more minutes until Miss Tabitha lines me up. I walk over to the refreshments table, grab a bottle of water, and sip slowly through a purple straw.

  Ava is offstage now, and from afar I see her jumping, her whole body a ball of energy, just like it was the first time I saw her perform. She’s killing it! Judging by Miss Tabitha’s smile as she darts back and forth like a gnat, sending kids on and off stage, I’m sure she thinks so too. I hear Joseph and Henry onstage. King and prince. Again, I think of tomorrow and my whole face warms.

  “You ready?” asks Courtney, joining me backstage.

  “Yeah, how’s it going out there?”

  “So far, so good,” she says. “The audience seems really into it.”

  “I heard you singing before. Everyone sounds fantastic!”

  “Thanks,” she says before running back toward the stage, her long dress dusting the floor beneath it.

  A moment later I’m face to face with Miss Tabitha, who’s leading me to the side.

  “You’re on in five,” she says, leaving me in the shadows. When the lights dim, I waltz out with Ana and Samira and take my place next to Ava.

  And then it’s time for the song with my solo. The song starts slow and sweet, and I hit the notes with ease. I do as Ava told me, being sure to look up when I look out, and to think only of Cinderella and the fairy godmother and the play. I sing and flit around the stage as if I really am a dove. As if Joseph wasn’t watching from the sidelines. As if everyone I know wasn’t in the audience.

  Instead, I breathe in and sing, the notes coming out stronger and clearer as I build momentum. As I enter the last verse, the nerves in my stomach buzz, their memory of that last high note strong. It’s a little out of my range, and I’ve fallen short just as many times as I’ve gotten it right. But tonight is one of the lucky ones. The note comes out loud and clear and on key. I fight the urge to cheer as the piano hits the last note. And then, before I can even think about what just happened, the lights are dimming once again. So I glide off the stage toward Miss Tabitha’s fluttering hands, Courtney’s big thumbs-up, and Joseph’s wide smile.

  “You were amazing,” he says as I walk by, Miss Tabitha already ushering me backstage.

  “Good luck,” I mouth to him, knowing it’s almost time for his big scene.

  And then I find myself jumping just like Ava was minutes earlier. The energy continues as I run on and off the stage, singing with the animals again and then with the chorus, until I’m sandwiched between Ana and Samira, taking my final bow. The audience is roaring, everyone on their feet. They scream the loudest for Ava and Henry, who run out last, holding hands and smiling so wide I wonder if their cheeks hurt. But I realize I’m smiling just as wide. Then the curtain closes and Ava and Henry drop their grins to let out a roar of their own.

  “We did it!” they say and we all scream back.

  The stage is charged with the energy of a successful opening night, and I wonder how we will ever repeat this magic for the rest of the performances. But Ava says we will, and as I see her hugging Miss Tabitha, her eyes bright with excitement, I know she’s right.

  After hugging Ava and Courtney, I run out into the school lobby, eager to find my family. The crowd is thick, filled with parents and friends and relatives, all smiling and patting backs, congratulating the cast on a job well done. Lori and Cameron find me first. They pull me into a hug before offering their congratulations.

  “You were excellent! Tonight was so fun!” says Lori with a wave.

  “Thanks,” I say, then continue my search for my family.

  I spot Michael on Dad’s shoulders.

  “Hey! Over here,” I say, waving my hands. But I’m short and the crowd’s busy, so I give up on getting his attention and run toward them instead.

  “Here’s the star!” Dad says when they spot me, and before I know it, I’m surrounded by their squeals and shouts. They shower me in flowers and praise and make me feel so warm and loved and proud. As I walk out of the building and into the crisp night with my family surrounding me, all I can think about is how happy and proud and energized I am right now in this moment.

  Chapter Twenty

  PLUM PERFECT

  I stand in front of my closet and squint, letting the slivers of purples and blues and pinks all swirl together like a marble, hoping that if I stand here long enough, something will leap out and tell me to wear it. But as my eyes start to cross like they do when I try to do one of those hidden pictures—to this day I’ve never seen anything but dots—I decide just to go with the outfit Kiara suggested last week. The new pink striped sweater Mom got me for Christmas, and my favorite faded jeans. Above my door, the old-fashioned cuckoo clock Abuela gave me for my fifth birthday springs to life. It’s four o’clock. The game starts at five. Usually that would mean I’d have a half hour to throw on some clothes and bolt out the door, but tonight is different. Because tonight I’m catching a ride.

  I was a little nervous when Joseph said he’d pick me up—the thought of having to talk to his parents is more than a little scary—but Ava was there when he asked and she agreed for me before I could say no. According to her, getting picked up is an important part of a date. Given that all either one of us knows about dates is what we’ve seen on television, I’m not exactly sure I agree with her assessment. Especially after conferring with Kiara, who claimed that when she went to the movies with Carter he met her there. But by the time I could tell this to Ava, the damage was done, and Joseph’s dad was planning on stopping by our house ten minutes before game time. At that point, I was more nervous of what Joseph would think if I said I’d just meet him instead, so I decided to let our plans stand. But the anticipation of that three-minute ride haunts me as I pull on my jeans and sweater.

  Thank goodness I live close to the school, I think, getting to work on my hair. It’s a half-dried mess of curls and for a minute I’m tempted just to grab one of the headbands Kiara made for me and throw it over a ponytail. But then I think of how let down Ava and Kiara and Courtney will be if they see me not sticking to our plan, so I reach for the blow-dryer and styling cream Kiara gave me. It takes thirty minutes to dry my hair, but in the end it’s worth it. My hair ends up not exactly straight, but not curly either. Instead, it’s something in the middle, and I can’t help but smile as I inspect the shiny black waves framing my face.

  Satisfied, I run downstairs to the kitchen for a snack. I bite into a granola bar just as Mom enters the front door with the twins, their arms heavy with groceries.

  “Oh good, you’re still here,” she says, giving me a kiss on my cheek. “I was hoping we wouldn’t miss you.”

  “Nope. He should be here soon, though.”

  Mom turns to the clock on her phone and nods. She’s met Joseph a few times now, during rehearsals and then after the play, but I can tell that she still wanted to be here for the big pickup for my first real date. She puts down the groceries, then turns to me and smiles.

  “You look so be
autiful,” she says. “Here. I got you something to take with you.”

  She fumbles with a bag, then hands me a lip gloss.

  “Plum perfect,” I say, reading the wrapper. It’s the first time Mom’s ever gotten me anything but clear gloss and for a moment I’m nervous to put it on. But as Mom waves me over to the bathroom, I relax.

  “Go on, give it a try,” she says. “If you don’t like it, you can take it off. But it should bring out the gold flecks in your eyes.”

  I smile, then give the tube a squeeze and rub a drop over my lips. And I see that Mom’s right. My eyes do look brighter.

  “I know you don’t need any makeup to look beautiful, but I couldn’t resist,” she says. “I think I was about your age when I started wearing colored gloss. Figured maybe it was time for you to try it too.”

  My cheeks burn as I throw the purple tube into the bag Mary Beth once laughed at, and start pacing back and forth. Mom eyes my bag and nods, and I can tell she’s as happy as I am that I’ve decided to keep using it.

  “So when does the JKDesigns site go live?” she asks, trying to keep her eyes off the clock.

  “The weekend after next,” I say. “After the play and basketball end.”

  “That’s great. I’m so glad you’re still doing it,” Mom says.

  I nod, thinking back to the day last week when Kiara asked if I still had my bags.

  “Me too. And it really is the perfect way for Kiara and me to stay in touch. With the store, we’ll still have something we can do together, even though we’re hundreds of miles apart.”

  “I’m so happy you girls worked things out.”

  “I just wish she wasn’t moving away.”

  “I know, though judging by what you two endured this year, I think it’s safe to say you’re destined to be friends for the long haul.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll end up together in college. Preferably one focused on design.”

  “Or theater,” Mom says with a wink.

  “Or science,” I say, surprising myself. “Ms. Cabot says I have one of the highest grades in the class.”