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The Cupcake Diaries Collection: Katie and the Cupcake Cure; Mia in the Mix; Emma on Thin Icing; Alexis and the Perfect Recipe

Page 2

by Simon, Coco


  “Yeah, no homework!” a boy in the back of the room called out.

  “You’ll get plenty of that in your other classes,” Mr. Insley said, and a bunch of kids groaned. I had to admit that it made me nervous. I had heard that there was tons more homework in middle school, but I hoped it wasn’t true.

  “Today is your lucky day, because you get to have homeroom with me for an extra ten minutes,” Mr. Insley went on. “I’ll be giving you some tips about how to get around this place.”

  There was a loud beeping sound over the intercom.

  “Good morning, students! This is Principal LaCosta. Welcome to Park Street Middle School. Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.”

  We launched into the pledge, and after the principal made a few announcements, Mr. Insley took attendance. There were more kids from my old school than I realized, but no Callie.

  As Mr. Insley started to explain about how to get around the school, I got this crazy urge to talk to Callie. I carefully reached for my cell phone in my backpack.

  I know what you’re thinking: She can’t use her cell phone in class! And you’re right. I knew that. But it was like some alien or something was controlling my hands.

  Must . . . text . . . Callie.

  I slipped the phone under the desk and flipped it open. I glanced at Mr. Insley and then I quickly texted my best friend.

  What happened this morning? R u taking the bus home or walking again?

  I sent the text and looked up at Mr. Insley again. He had his back to the class, pointing to a map of the school projected on the screen. So far so good.

  I felt the phone buzz in my hands and checked Callie’s reply.

  Let’s talk after

  After what? I wondered frantically. After homeroom? After school? My alien hands started texting again.

  Where r u now? Where is ur homeroom? Should we talk b4 class? Or I can meet u

  “Miss Brown, is it?”

  I looked up to see Mr. Insley standing right over me! I was so busted. I felt my face get hot.

  “Um, yes,” I managed to squeak out.

  “I should probably remind you of the rule that there is no texting during class in this school,” Mr. Insley said. “Normally, I’d have to confiscate your phone. But since it’s the first day of school, consider this a warning.”

  I nodded and stuffed the phone in my backpack. I could hear kids laughing behind me.

  “Bus-ted,” Maggie sang in a loud whisper, then giggled.

  Did you ever wish that you could blink your eyes and magically disappear? That’s exactly how I felt. I’d even take a time machine—I could go back in time to the start of homeroom and leave my cell phone in my backpack. Or how about wings? I could unfurl them and fly out the window, far away from middle school.

  But I was stuck with the awful reality of being humiliated in homeroom. There was nowhere to run.

  Fortunately the bell rang. One good thing about being in the front row was that I could make a quick getaway. I dashed into the hallway.

  Crowds of kids streamed through the halls. Callie had to be somewhere close by, right? I walked up and down, trying to find her.

  Then I noticed that kids were opening their lockers and putting their backpacks inside. I had a feeling I was supposed to be doing that too. Where was that schedule again? It had to be here somewhere…. Found it!

  I took it out and tried to find my locker on the map that was on the bottom of my schedule. I had locker number 213. Isn’t thirteen supposed to be an unlucky number? But, luckily, it was just down the hallway.

  The locker had a built-in lock. I spun the dial, searching for the combination numbers that were printed on my schedule.

  26 . . . 14 . . . 5 . . .

  The door wouldn’t open the first time. The hallway was getting emptier by the second. Panic started to well up inside me.

  I took a deep breath and tried again.

  26 . . . 14 . . . 5 . . . Click!

  The door popped open, and I shoved my backpack inside. I took out the notebook I needed for my next class, science.

  I slammed the locker shut and checked the schedule again. Science was in room 234, on the left leg of the U. It should have been easy to find, except I wasn’t sure what part of the U I was in.

  I guess if I had been paying attention to Mr. Insley, I would have known where to go. I ran down the hall as fast as I could and turned the corner. Room 234 should have been the first door on the right.

  I stepped in the doorway, breathless. I looked around for a seat.

  That’s when I noticed the chalkboard.

  French—Bonjour!

  Mademoiselle Girard

  I was in the wrong room!

  A girl with reddish hair in the front row saw me. “You look lost,” she said.

  “I am,” I told her. “I’m trying to find science. Room 234.”

  She pointed to the doorway with her pencil. “Right across the hall,” she said.

  “Thanks!”

  I raced across the hallway just as the bell rang.

  I was going to be late for my very first class! Could this day get any worse?

  CHAPTER 4

  Abandoned at Lunch

  Okay, so it turned out that I wasn’t the only one who was late, and we weren’t in any trouble. The science teacher, Ms. Biddle, waved us all in.

  “Enter, enter, all you lost souls,” she said.

  I liked Ms. Biddle right away. She wasn’t much taller than any of us students, and her blond hair was spiked on top of her head. She wore a bright blue T-shirt that saidEVIL MUTANT SCIENCE TEACHER.

  “Welcome to science,” she announced. “I am Ms. Biddle, and this is my co-teacher, Priscilla.”

  She pointed to a plastic skeleton hanging from a stand in the front corner of the room. A bunch of us laughed.

  “Based on the existence of Priscilla in this classroom, who can create a hypothesis about what we’re going to learn this semester?” she asked.

  I raised my hand. “The human body?”

  “Excellent!” the teacher cheered. “What a bright bunch of students. I can tell this is going to be a great year.”

  My humiliating homeroom experience took a backseat in my brain. I really had fun in science class. Science has always been my favorite subject. And I had a feeling that Ms. Biddle could make any subject fun, even math.

  When science ended, I resisted the urge to look for Callie in the hallway. I didn’t want to be late again. My next class was social studies with Mr. Insley, back in homeroom.

  I stopped at my locker and got my social studies notebook on the first try. I made it to the room before the bell rang.

  “Hey, it’s the cell phone girl,” Mr. Insley said when he saw me, and I cringed a little. But I recovered quickly.

  “Cell phone? What cell phone?” I joked, and to my relief, he gave me a smile.

  Social studies went pretty smoothly too—but still no Callie.

  I knew my next period was lunch, and I felt sure I would see her there. I had to. If I didn’t talk with her soon, I knew I would go crazy!

  I had to stop back at my locker to get my lunch. I swiftly spun the dial.

  26 . . . 15 . . . 14.

  Nothing happened.

  “Okay,” I told my locker. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

  I tried the combination again, and it still didn’t work. Frustrated, I pulled my schedule out of my notebook and checked it again.

  26 . . . 14 . . . 5. I’d gotten the numbers mixed up.

  “Sorry,” I told my locker. “My bad.”

  I grabbed my lunch and raced to the cafeteria but, of course, I was one of the last people to get there.

  The cafeteria was twice as big as the one in my old school. Kids sat at rectangular tables that stretched all the way to the back of the room. More kids were lined up in front of the steaming lunch counter along the wall to my right.

  It didn’t take me long to spot Callie in the crowd. She was
sitting at a table with Sydney, Maggie, and Brenda.

  Somehow I wasn’t surprised. But I wasn’t exactly prepared either. What was I supposed to do? Just walk up and sit with them?

  Why not? I asked myself. You and Callie have sat together at lunch every day for years. Why should today be any different?

  I took a deep breath and walked toward the table. There was an empty seat. Perfect!

  “Hi,” I said, moving toward the seat. But Sydney stopped me with just a few words.

  “Sorry, Katie,” she said. “This table is reserved for the PGC.”

  “What’s the PGC?” I asked.

  “Popular. Girls. Club,” Sydney replied, saying each word slowly, to make sure I understood. “You have to be a member to sit here. And you are not.”

  I turned to Callie. “So, you’re a member?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s no big deal, Katie, it’s just—”

  “Right. No big deal,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to hear what Callie had to say. I just needed to get away from that table. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Hey, Katie!” I heard Callie call behind me. “I’ll call you later!”

  I walked away and tried to find another seat. I could feel tears forming in my eyes. I could not cry in the middle of the cafeteria on my first day of school. I just couldn’t.

  I saw some kids from Hamilton at other tables, but I walked right past them. I headed for an empty table in the back of the room and sat down.

  What had just happened? Callie had joined a club, and I wasn’t invited. Fine. But couldn’t she at least have warned me before today?

  I opened my lunch bag. I didn’t feel much like eating, but Mom would be disappointed if I didn’t at least try the special lunch she made for me.

  Mom had packed carrot sticks with ranch dip (my favorite) and a tuna fish sandwich, plus my aluminum water bottle filled with apple juice. Besides all that, there was a pink plastic cupcake holder, the kind that’s shaped exactly like a cupcake. Mom had written on it with a glitter marker, “A cupcake for my Cupcake.” Corny, yes, but I knew the cupcake inside would be delicious.

  Suddenly I realized I was hungry after all. I unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.

  “Is anyone sitting here?”

  I looked up to see Mia, the girl from the bus.

  “No, unless they’re invisible,” I replied. Mia smiled and sat in the chair across from me.

  “How’s everything going so far?” Mia asked me. She was opening up her lunch bag and taking out a container of what looked like vegetable sushi rolls.

  “Let’s see,” I began. “I got in trouble in homeroom for using my cell phone. My locker hates me. I keep getting lost. And, oh yeah, my best friend would rather hang out with a bunch of mean girls than me.”

  Mia raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “It’s all true,” I said solemnly. “How about you?”

  Mia shrugged. “It’s okay . . . just, different. Hey, did you have science yet? Isn’t Ms. Biddle awesome?”

  I nodded. “I know! I love her T-shirt.”

  As we were talking, two girls approached our table, carrying trays of food. I recognized one of them as the girl with the reddish hair who helped me find the science room.

  “Hi,” I said. “Do you want to sit down? There’s plenty of room.”

  “Thanks,” said the girl I recognized.

  “I’m Mia,” Mia said.

  “And I’m Katie,” I added.

  “Hi. I’m Alexis,” she replied. “And this is Emma.”

  “Hi,” Emma said shyly.

  Alexis’s reddish hair was neatly pulled back in a white headband that matched her white button-down shirt. She wore a short denim skirt and ballet flats. I noticed everything matched.

  Emma had big blue eyes and straight blond hair. She was really pretty. She had on a sleeveless pink dress with small white flowers on it and white sneakers.

  “Did you guys go to Richardson?” I guessed.

  Alexis nodded. “Right. Did you go to Hamilton?”

  “I did,” I replied. “But Mia’s from Manhattan.”

  “Ooh, I always wanted to go there,” Emma said. “I heard there’s a museum with a giant whale that hangs from the ceiling, and you can walk right underneath it. Have you ever been there?”

  Mia nodded. “It’s so cool. It’s amazing to imagine that something that big lives on the planet, you know?” she said. “You should go sometime. Manhattan’s not that far from here.”

  “Maybe someday,” Emma said wistfully.

  “So has anyone had that math teacher yet, Mrs. Moore?” Mia asked. She shuddered. “Scary.”

  “Uh-oh,” I said. “I have her next period.”

  “Me too. But I heard she’s not so bad,” Alexis told us. “My sister Dylan told me she’s strict, but if you just do what she says, you’ll be all right.”

  I finished my sandwich and dug into my carrot sticks. Mia, Alexis, and Emma were really nice, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. I glanced over at the PGC table. Callie was laughing at something Sydney was saying. Were they laughing about me?

  I didn’t realize it at first, but I was accidentally ignoring the girls at the table, so I quickly tuned back in.

  “Earth to Katie,” Alexis said. “I was asking you if you had social studies yet.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I said.

  “Her best friend dumped her to hang out with some mean girls,” Mia explained.

  “Really?” Alexis asked. “Which ones?”

  I pointed to Sydney’s table.

  “Oh, I know those girls from camp,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re right. They are mean. Especially that Sydney.”

  “I don’t know what Callie’s doing with them,” I said with a sigh.

  “Callie?” Alexis said. “I know her from camp too. She always seemed nice.”

  I reached into my lunch bag and took out my cupcake holder. For a second I forgot about the corny message my mom had decorated it with. I tried to turn it around so the other girls wouldn’t see it, but it was too late.

  “Aw, that’s cute,” Mia said.

  “Thanks,” I replied, relieved. I opened the cupcake holder and took out the sweet treasure inside.

  “Wow, your mom packed you a cupcake?” Emma asked. “Lucky!”

  The icing was a light brown color. I sniffed it.

  “Peanut butter,” I said out loud. “With cinnamon.”

  “What’s inside?” Emma asked.

  I took a bite, and a yummy glob of grape jelly squirted into my mouth.

  “Jelly,” I reported. “It’s a P-B-and-J cupcake.”

  I took another bite, making sure to get the icing and the jelly in the bite at the same time. Like all of mom’s cupcakes, it was superdelicious.

  At least some things never change, I thought.

  I realized that all of the girls were eyeing me a little bit enviously. I couldn’t blame them. I mean, who doesn’t like cupcakes?

  “I’ve never heard of a peanut-butter-and-jelly cupcake before,” Emma said.

  “There’s a cupcake shop in my dad’s neighborhood that has fifty-seven flavors,” Mia told us. “I bet they have P-B-and-J.”

  I thought about offering them a bite, but I already had my germs all over it, and the jelly was getting kind of messy.

  “The next time my mom makes cupcakes, I’ll bring some for all of us,” I promised.

  “Cool,” Mia said.

  “Thanks,” said Alexis and Emma at the same time.

  The lunch bell rang. It was time for my next class.

  I stuffed my empty cupcake holder into my bag. My first day of middle school wasn’t even half over, but I had a feeling that the only good part of it had just ended.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Cupcake Cure

  So here’s what happened the rest of the day:

  • Forgot my locker combination after lunch.

  • Was late to math class. Mrs. Moore gave
me a sheet of math problems to do as punishment. Mia was right! She is scary.

  • No gym until next week, so I hung out with Emma, who’s in my gym class. (Okay, something went right.)

  • Had English with Mia, Alexis, and Emma. Good. But left my summer reading report in my locker. Bad!

  • Had art as my special class for seventh period. Found out that there’s cooking, but I can’t take that until January. Rats!

  • Spanish is my last class of the day. Then it’s adios!

  • No Callie in any of my classes.

  When the last bell rang, I stuffed all of my books into my backpack and went outside to look for Joanne’s car.

  Joanne works in my mom’s office. When I was in elementary school, I went to an after-school program until Mom got off of work. But there’s no after-school program for middle school. Mom doesn’t think I’m old enough to go home by myself. So her plan was for me to hang out at the office every day. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

  Anyway, she told me Joanne had a small red car, so I started looking around for it. Then I heard Sydney’s voice behind me.

  “Looking for your former friend?”

  I turned and saw Sydney, with Maggie and Brenda laughing behind her. At least Callie wasn’t with them. I turned around without answering.

  Then I heard a beep. Joanne was waving out of a car window down by the parking lot. I ran to meet her.

  “Hey, Katie. How was your first day of middle school? Was it awesome?” Joanne asked.

  “Sure,” I said, sliding into the front seat.

  I like Joanne a lot. She’s really tall and has lots of blond hair that she piles on top of her head. She always talks to me like I’m a person, not a little kid. Not all adults know how to do that.

  “Hmm. You don’t sound so sure,” Joanne said.

  “It was fine,” I told her.

  I really didn’t feel like talking about it. Not just now, anyway. Sydney had put me in a really bad mood.

  Joanne seemed to understand.

  “Cool,” she said. “Your mom’s been talking about you all day. She can’t wait to see you.”

  When we got to the office, my mom was busy with a patient. Joanne set me up in my mom’s personal office, where she has a desk and a phone and all of her books about dentist stuff.

 

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