by Coco Simon
I would explain all this to Katie later, but right now she needed only one thing.
I opened the Three Sisters cupcake box on my lap and offered her A Summer Day cupcake and a Sleepover Party cupcake. She took the Sleepover Party one with a little laugh.
“Thanks. Just what I needed,” she said as she took a bite.
• • •
We dropped off all the girls, and when we got home, my mom called all the moms to let them know what had happened. She felt that everyone needed a talk with their mothers that night, and all the other moms agreed.
• • •
When I checked in with the Cupcakers the next morning, we compared notes and learned that all our moms had said the same thing. What they’d said was basically this: You can’t worry about what other people say about you, especially about your looks. If you’re doing the best you can and being kind to everyone, no one has the right to criticize you. They also said we needed to live our lives for ourselves and not for some imagined public who might or might not be watching at any time.
Alexis had work, and we planned to meet at the pool around lunchtime. She’d take her break with us, and we could all catch up.
But when we got to the pool, Alexis was on duty with Mrs. Chilson, and it was pretty slow, so she clocked out for her break right then. Her eyes were blazing with news as she jogged over to join us. She looked like she was going to burst from excitement.
“Guess what, people?” she called.
“What?” I replied, sure she was about to tell us anyway.
She sat down at the lunch table next to us and paused for dramatic effect. “Mary Jane quit!”
“No way!” cried Mia.
Alexis nodded, a huge grin on her face. “She told Mrs. Chilson that the working conditions were awful and that they worked her too hard. So she quit.”
“But she never did anything!” Mia pointed out.
“I know. The whole thing’s a joke.”
“You don’t think she’ll cook up some way to get you or Mrs. Chilson fired, do you?” Katie asked nervously.
“Nah,” said Alexis, waving her hand in the air. “Mrs. C. loves me. She just asked me to be the temporary manager until she can find someone older to run the snack bar. She said she’d give me the job if I were older, because I am totally capable of running it, but it wouldn’t look so good for her to have a young teen in charge. I get it.” Alexis shrugged. She had to know she would never lack for job offers in life.
“Wow. Your summer just got about a thousand percent better,” I said.
“I know,” Alexis said happily. “But I just came to tell you I don’t really have time to swim with you guys today. I need to eat a quick sandwich, then I’ve got to help Finn restock the cooler, and I need to do some inventory so we can get an order into the wholesaler before the weekend rush. . . .”
“Oh boy. Watch out for the new temporary manager!” I said.
“The boss is in town!” joked Mia.
Alexis left us, and we waited for our food.
“So how’s it going today?” I asked Katie gently.
She sighed. “Not great. I’m still pretty upset.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, squeezing her hand.
“Your mom was so nice,” she said.
I nodded.
“All our moms are nice,” said Mia as she placed our food orders down in front of us.
“It’s true. That’s probably why we’re friends. We were raised by nice people to be nice people!” I kidded.
“That, and we all love cupcakes!”
“And lifeguards,” whispered Mia.
“Hey, girls!” said Luis, coming up behind us.
We greeted him and discussed the Mary Jane drama, speculating on her revenge.
“Oh, she’s pretty harmless,” said Luis. “She’s always quitting stuff in protest, but she never follows up on it. She just enjoys being a bully.”
“And you’d know all this from . . . ?” asked Mia.
“Oh, family reunions,” said Luis, waving his hand dismissively. “Okay. Gotta get back to work now. See you gals at the pool later!” And he left.
We collapsed into giggles. “So Luis and Mary Jane are related, too? This nepotism thing is no joke!” said Katie.
“Listen, Katie,” I said. “I don’t want to keep bringing it up, but maybe what you need is a good modeling experience. Something to cleanse your palate, so to speak? A fresh start?”
Katie waved her hands. “That’s what you gave me yesterday. Thank you so much. It was fun to work with Victor again, and to be with all you guys and those nice Miller sisters. Plus, that kitchen space was amazing! The whole afternoon was great. I’m just focusing on that and blotting out the whole other thing. Sooner or later I’ll forget about those stupid comments I read.”
I nodded. “Okay. Good. Just let me know if you ever want to try again.”
We cleared away the remains of our lunch and went to sit by the pool. Luis waved from his perch, and the girls and I waved back. I whispered to Mia. “What? No swimming lessons today?”
She sighed. “Luis and I talked it out. He said we’re better off being friends, since he felt like he could never really trust me again, and he couldn’t go out with someone he didn’t completely trust.”
“Wow,” I said. “Brutally honest.”
“Yeah. Honesty is a big thing for him. I guess it is for me now too. I learned my lesson,” Mia said sadly.
“Well, he’s still a nice friend to have,” I said.
“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed. “But do you want to know the worst part?”
“Not really,” joked Katie.
Mia smiled. “Now he’s dating a girl from the swim team.”
“No!” said Katie.
“So you mean, if you’d just been yourself and let him see what a great swimmer you were from the get-go, he could be your boyfriend right now?” I asked incredulously.
“Yup!” said Mia, standing up. “Can you believe it? I really messed up that one.”
“Well, live and learn,” I said.
• • •
A few weeks later, I received an e-mail from Lindsay Miller. It said:
Emma,
Check out the ad campaign (link below). It’s awesome! Thank you so much! And check your e-mail soon for an invitation to something fun from us!
I immediately clicked on the ad’s link, and my browser opened to a series of amazing shots of me mixing cupcake batter, frosting cupcakes, decorating them, and more. Victor had used a soft, gauzy lens with diffused lighting so nothing was sharp or harsh. He hadn’t really shot the photos directly of my face, either. Instead, most of the pictures were from the side or above, so you saw hints of me but not all of me. They were really, really pretty, and the pink-and-white color scheme turned out beautifully.
I clicked on the link for the group shots and was again dazzled by what a great job Victor had done. Despite his occasionally cranky attitude, the guy was seriously talented. And my friends looked awesome! They would be thrilled.
Quickly, I forwarded the e-mail to the Cupcakers and to my parents.
I almost uploaded it right to social media, but thank goodness I realized just in time what a mistake that would be. The Cupcakers looked pretty in the shots, but surely there would always be trolls out there, and I didn’t need to put anyone through all that again.
Katie was still mildly traumatized and had turned down an invitation to do a bridal fashion show with me at A Special Day bridal salon. She had said that modeling was just not for her, and I respected that, even as I told Katie that Mona had seen her ad and thought she was “divine!” (“Divine” was Mona’s highest compliment.)
The Cupcakers and my parents all loved the Three Sisters campaign, especially because it was about the cupcakes first and us second. Plus, the photos were gorgeous, and none of them focused too intently on any one of us. We looked busy and happy and un-self-conscious in the shots, which I am sure is part of what made them so pr
etty.
A few days later, an e-vite arrived in all our in-boxes. We were invited to the launch of the Three Sisters campaign-and-franchise roll-out party at the same loft in SoHo where we’d had the photo shoot.
None of us hesitated: We wanted to go!
My mom offered to chaperone us, and when the day came, we got ready together at my house before we left for the city.
Mia had styled each of us, telling us what to bring from our wardrobe. She had a satchel of accessories to try on us all. Everyone came with wet hair and took turns primping in my bathroom, curling their hair and trying on some of my very basic makeup.
As we left, my dad took a photo. “Wow, girls. Watch out, city! You’re going to break some hearts tonight!”
“Oh, Dad!” I rolled my eyes, but he knew I loved the teasing.
• • •
Everyone from the campaign was at the party in the loft. The ad agency lady was so thrilled with the results (she’d gotten a promotion and raise because of it) that she dragged us around to meet everyone at the event. When we reached Victor, he kissed us all theatrically and introduced us to a bigwig modeling agent with whom he was chatting.
“You, I know. Gorgeous!” she said to me. Then she cocked her head and looked at Katie. “Don’t I recognize you from somewhere?” she said.
“I discovered her! I did her first shoot!” said Victor, putting his arm around her possessively.
Oh brother, I thought. Now suddenly you’re her best friend.
But the agent was wagging a finger at Katie. “Were you in Paris in the spring? I’m sure I know you from the catwalk.”
“Um, no?” said Katie, turning beet red. “I just did a coat campaign for a national coat brand, though.”
“Here’s my card,” said the agent. “Do you have representation?”
“No?” said Katie, smiling awkwardly.
“Call me,” said the woman firmly, and she grabbed Victor’s arm and led him away to the bar.
“See, Katie? You never know where your next opportunity will come from. That’s what I always say!” said Alexis. “Be prepared!”
“There’s only one model here,” Katie said pointedly. “And that’s Emma.”
“Models or not, we’re all awesome!” I said. “Whether we’re modeling on a catwalk or baking cupcakes.”
“Here’s to us!” Alexis cheered, holding up a cupcake. “The Cupcake Girls—stars wherever we go, whatever we do!”
“To the Cupcake Girls!” Mia agreed. “And to catwalks and cupcakes!” And we all laughed as we clinked our cupcakes together. Cheers!
Here’s a small taste of the very first book in the
series written by Coco Simon:
SUNDAY
SUNDAES
PLOT TWIST
A hot August wind lifted my brown hair and cooled the back of my neck as I waited for the bus to take me to my new school. I hoped I was standing in the right spot. I hoped I was wearing the right thing. I wished I were anywhere else.
My toes curled in my new shoes as I reached into my messenger bag and ran my thumb along the worn spine of my favorite book. I’d packed Anne of Green Gables as a good-luck charm for my first day at my new school. The heroine, Anne Shirley, had always cracked me up and given me courage. To me, having a book around was like having an old friend for company. And, boy, did I need a friend right about now.
Ten days before, I’d returned from summer camp to find my home life completely rearranged. It hadn’t been obvious at first, which was almost worse. The changes had come out in drips, and then all at once, leaving me standing in a puddle in the end.
My mom and dad picked me up after seven glorious weeks of camp up north, where the temperature is cool and the air is sweet and fresh. I was excited to get home, but as soon as I arrived, I missed camp. Camp was fun, and freedom, and not really worrying about anything. There was no homework, no parents, and no little brothers changing the ringtone on your phone so that it plays only fart noises. At camp this year I swam the mile for the first time, and all my camp besties were there. My parents wrote often: cheerful e-mails, mostly about my eight-year-old brother, Tanner, and the funny things he was doing. When they visited on Parents’ Weekend, I was never really alone with them, so the conversation was light and breezy, just like the weather.
The ride home was normal at first, but I noticed my parents exchanging glances a couple of times, almost like they were nervous. They looked different too. My dad seemed more muscular and was tan, and my mom had let her hair—dark brown and wavy, like mine—grow longer, and it made her look younger. The minute I got home, I grabbed my sweet cat, Diana (named after Anne Shirley’s best friend, naturally), and scrambled into my room. Sharing a bunkhouse with eleven other girls for a summer was great, but I was really glad to be back in my own quiet room. I texted SHE’S BAAAACK! to my best friends, Tamiko Sato and Sierra Perez, and then took a really long, hot shower.
It wasn’t until dinnertime that things officially got weird.
“You must’ve really missed me,” I said as I sat down at the kitchen table. They’d made all of my favorites: meat lasagna, garlic bread, and green salad with Italian dressing and cracked pepper. It was the meal we always had the night before I left for camp and the night I got back. My mouth started watering.
I grinned as I put my napkin onto my lap.
“We did miss you, Allie!” said my mom brightly.
“They talked about you all the time,” said Tanner, rolling his eyes and talking with his mouth full of garlic bread, his dinner napkin still sitting prominently on the table.
“Napkin on lapkin!” I scolded him.
“Boys don’t use napkins. That’s what sleeves are for,” said Tanner, smearing his buttery chin across the shoulder of his T-shirt.
“Gross!” Coming out of the all-girl bubble of camp, I had forgotten the rougher parts of the boy world. I looked to my parents to reprimand him, but they both seemed lost in thought. “Mom? Dad? Hello? Are you okay with this?” I asked, looking to both of them for backup.
“Hmm? Oh, Tanner, don’t be disgusting. Use a napkin,” said my mom, but without much feeling behind it.
He smirked at me, and when she looked away, he quickly wiped his chin on his sleeve again. It was like all the rules had flown out the window since I’d been gone!
My dad cleared his throat in the way he usually did when he was nervous, like when he had to practice for a big sales presentation. I looked up at him; he was looking at my mom with his eyebrows raised. His bright blue eyes—identical to mine—were definitely nervous.
“What’s up?” I asked, the hair on my neck prickling a little. When there’s tension around, or sadness, I can always feel it. It’s not like I’m psychic or anything. I can just feel people’s feelings coming off them in waves. Maybe my parents’ fighting as I was growing up had made me sensitive to stuff, or maybe it was from reading so many books and feeling the characters’ feelings along with them. Whatever it was, my mom said I had a lot of empathy. And right now my empathy meter was registering high alert.
My mom swallowed hard and put on a sunny smile that was a little too bright. Now I was really suspicious. I glanced at Tanner, but he was busy dragging a slab of garlic bread through the sauce from his second helping of lasagna.
“Allie, there’s something Dad and I would like to tell you. We’ve made some new plans, and we’re pretty excited about them.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them. What she was saying didn’t match up with the anxious expressions on their faces.
“They’re getting divorced,” said Tanner through a mouthful of lasagna and bread.
“What?” I said, shocked, but also . . . kind of not. I felt a huge sinking in my stomach, and tears pricked my eyes. I knew there had been more fighting than usual before I’d left for camp, but I hadn’t really seen this coming. Or maybe I had; it was like divorce had been there for a while, just slightly to the side of everything, riding shotgun all along
. Automatically my brain raced through the list of book characters whose parents were divorced: Mia in the Cupcake Diaries, Leigh Botts in Dear Mr. Henshaw, Karen Newman in It’s Not the End of the World. . . .
My mother sighed in exasperation at Tanner.
“Wait, Tanner knew this whole time and I didn’t?” I asked.
“Sweetheart,” said my dad, looking at me kindly. “This has been happening this summer, and since Tanner was home with us, he found out about it first.” Tanner smirked at me, but Dad gave him a look. “I know this is hard, but it’s actually really happy news for me and your mom. We love each other very much and will stay close as a family.”
“We’re just tired of all the arguing. And we’re sure you two are too. We feel that if we live apart, we’ll be happier. All of us.”
My mind raced with questions, but all that came out was, “What about me and Tanner? And Diana? Where are we going to live?”
“Well, I found a great apartment right next to the playground,” said my dad, suddenly looking happy for real. “You know that new converted factory building over in Maple Grove, with the rooftop pool that we always talk about when we pass by?”
“And I’ve found a really great little vintage house in Bayville. And you won’t believe it, but it’s right near the beach!”
I stared at them.
Mom swallowed hard and kept talking. “It’s just been totally redone, and the room that will be yours has built-in bookcases all around it and a window seat,” she said.
“And it has a hot tub,” added my dad.
“Right,” laughed my mom. “And there are plantings in the flower beds around the house, so we can have fresh flowers all spring, summer, and fall!” My mom loved flowers, but my dad grew up doing so much yard work for his parents that he refused to ever let her plant anything here. The house did sound nice, but then something occurred to me.