“This is a very cute car,” I said, making polite conversation.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Devlin.
“It’s also in my favorite color,” I said.
“It’s in my favorite color too,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The girls will be wearing periwinkle blue dresses in the wedding.”
“Cool!” I said. “I wish I could see them.”
“You can,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The dresses arrived last week.”
“I tried mine on right away,” said Erin.
“And she looked very cute,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Now we just have to hope that Anna and Julia will look as good.”
My ears perked up because I figured I knew who Anna and Julia were. I also figured, since Mrs. Devlin started it, I could ask a few questions. I pulled the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK out of my backpack. “Who are Anna and Julia?”
“They’re Erin’s soon-to-be stepsisters,” said Mrs. Devlin.
“Those are nice names,” I said.
“They are,” said Mrs. Devlin, but then she didn’t say any more.
“I have a sister,” I said, trying to stick to the subject at hand. “Her name is Tess.”
“That’s a nice name too,” said Mrs. Devlin.
“If she was a boy she was going to be named Chester,” I said. “That always makes me think of The Cricket in Times Square. And that cricket could be very loud sometimes, like sisters,” I said.
Mrs. Devlin laughed.
I waited a second, but she didn’t say anything else. I wrote Maybe loud on the POSSIBLY WICKED page.
“Here we are,” said Mrs. Devlin.
We jumped out of the car, and she opened up the trunk to get the groceries.
“Your car even has a cute trunk,” I said.
“It’s small,” she said. “We’ll have to use a bigger car to pick people up from the airport.”
“I see,” I said.
“I bet you girls would like a snack,” she said. “Why don’t you show Cinderella your room, and I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
I followed Erin upstairs. There were different stripes of color on one wall and boxes everywhere. “I’m still unpacking,” she said, “and picking out a paint color.”
“I wish I could change my room color. It’s still light yellow from when I was a baby.” I plopped down on her mattress, which was right on the floor, and kicked off my shoes. I opened my notebook. I wrote Maybe lots of luggage before I forgot.
She plopped down next to me. “What did you write?”
“I wrote ‘Maybe lots of luggage’ on the POSSIBLY WICKED page,” I said. “They might be bringing a ton on account of needing a bigger car to pick them up from the airport.
“Luggage is wicked?” she asked.
“Not regular amounts of luggage, but loads of it are,” I said. “Also, your mom didn’t say if they’re loud or not, so that means they could be.”
“I guess they could,” she said.
“So that goes on the POSSIBLY WICKED page.”
Erin scrunched her eyebrows together and got all quiet.
“What’s up?” I’d figured out that scrunched eyebrows meant she was thinking hard.
“I’m kind of loud,” she said.
“Me too!” I said kind of loud. Then I got a big idea and so I said a big AHA!
“‘AHA!’ what?” she asked.
“AHA! You’re going to be a stepsister too!” I said. “We should put you in this notebook.”
She scrunched her eyes almost closed and smiled. “Let’s start.”
I wrote on the FOR-SURE WICKED page: Erin=Kind of loud.
“Snack’s ready!” Mrs. Devlin called.
“BE RIGHT THERE!” Erin yelled at the top of her lungs.
A big bowl of popcorn and glasses of lemonade were waiting on the counter for us.
I tossed a kernel up in the air and caught it in my mouth. “My record is eight in a row. I want to beat the world record, but I’m not sure what it is.”
Erin tossed a kernel up, but it hit her chin. “I’m terrible at this.” She tossed another one up, and it bounced off her cheek.
When the fifth one landed on the floor, Mrs. Devlin said “Erin” very serious.
“If you have a rule about no playing with food,” I said, “I started it.”
“It’s not a rule,” said Mrs. Devlin. “I just don’t like to waste too many.”
“You don’t have the law of three seconds here?” I asked.
“What’s the law of three seconds?” asked Erin.
“Scientists studied how fast things that fall on the ground pick up germs,” I said. “If you pick up food before three seconds, it’s just fine to eat it.”
“I’ll have to think about that one,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Are you going to show Cinderella your dress?”
“Sure!” We ran back upstairs to Erin’s room.
Erin opened her closet. There were so many clothes on so many hangers that everything was all squashed together.
“Your closet is packed full to bursting!” I said.
“I collect T-shirts,” said Erin. “They’re my favorite thing to wear, but I was afraid it would be too rainy and cold to wear them now.”
“Everyone thinks that about Seattle,” I said. “But it’s nice in the fall at least until Halloween. Then it starts to rain.”
“Do you get wet when you trick-or-treat?” asked Erin.
“Sometimes.” I looked through her T-shirts. “AHA!” I said.
“‘AHA!’ what?” Erin asked.
“You have lots of clothes.” I picked up the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK and wrote Erin=Lots of clothes on the FOR-SURE WICKED page.
“I have an AHA! too!” said Erin. “I’m lazy. Look at all this stuff I still have to unpack!”
“‘AHA!’ is right!” I wrote: Erin=Lazy on the FOR-SURE WICKED page.
“Here’s my dress for the wedding.” She pulled the periwinkle dress out of the closet. It was long and slippery soft and shiny.
“It’s very pretty,” I said.
“I guess so,” said Erin. “I don’t really like dresses, though, and this goes all the way to the floor. These are the shoes.” They were white Mary Janes with little heels. “I have to be careful not to trip. Want to see Anna’s and Julia’s?”
“Definitely,” I said.
“Follow me,” said Erin.
“They’re in the guest room.”
I followed Erin to the room next door carrying the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK. “The first thing is that the closet is very big,” I said. “So writing ‘Maybe lots of luggage’ on their POSSIBLY WICKED page was probably right.”
“When I went to Disneyland last year, my mom and I were going to share a suitcase,” said Erin. “We had too much stuff, though, so we each had to bring our own.”
“Good remembering.” I wrote: Erin=Lots of luggage on the FOR-SURE WICKED page. “The next thing is that that is a very big mirror on that closet door. That probably means they like to stare at themselves a ton.” I wrote: Mirror-starers on the stepsisters’ POSSIBLY WICKED page. “Do you look at yourself a lot?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said.
“I have been lately,” I said, “because I’m trying to learn to raise one of my eyebrows at a time like my mom.”
We both stared in the mirror and made weird faces at each other.
“Cinderella, your mom’s here!” called Mrs. Devlin.
“I’ll be right there,” I called back. “Start paying attention to if you look in the mirror a lot.”
“Okay,” said Erin.
We headed out of the guest room to the stairs.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” said Erin.
“Oops,” I said. “Thanks.”
Chapter 9
Thumbtacked Sneaker
The next time I packed up my ballet bag I ran into trouble of epic proportions. That means something hugely terrible happened, and this is what it was: one of my new tap shoes was missing. I look
ed everywhere and all over our house in a very sly and sneaky way. I did not want anyone to know what was going on, especially my mom. Finally, when I was searching through Tess’s room for the third time, I decided to tell my little sister. I thought I would explode if I didn’t tell someone.
“I can’t find one of my tap shoes anywhere,” I whispered.
She didn’t look impressed by this news because she’s used to me losing shoes.
“Remember the Autumn Recital I told you about?” I said. “And the solo part? If I don’t have my tap shoe, I might not get to be in it.”
Tess handed me Mrs. C.
I sat down next to her on her big-girl bed and dangled my feet over the bar that keeps her from rolling off. My stomach went all grumbling and nervous. Everyone was tired of me losing shoes. Miss Akiyama and my mom and dad would be mad-mad-mad. Rosemary T. would probably get picked for the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy and get to invite Erin to the recital. My eyes started to water, but I did not want to cry. I jumped off Tess’s bed and started tap dancing to get all the bad feelings out.
“Why tapping?” asked Tess.
“I don’t know; it just seemed like a good idea,” I said. “I had some bad feelings stuck inside me, and now they’re going away. Do you want to tap too? The more the merrier!”
Tess climbed off her bed and started tap dancing with me.
“I just thought of something.” I stopped tapping and was a little out of breath.
Tess stopped too.
“Maybe I left my tap shoe at dance class.” The hurt in my stomach went almost all away. “I must have! But just in case, I’m going to pack my sneaker with the thumbtack stuck in it. It makes a pretty good tap shoe too.”
And it was good that I had packed my thumbtacked sneaker, because I didn’t find my tap shoe at the dance studio either. It wasn’t in the dressing room or the waiting room or in the Lost and Found. Alas. I wondered what Miss Akiyama would say, but I didn’t have too much time to think on that because dance class started.
First we warmed up, which involves holding on to a barre and doing pliés and relevés.
Those words are French for bending your knees and going up on your toes, and we always do this part in ballet slippers because you can’t go up on your toes in tap shoes. Next we practiced the Pumpkin Blossoms dance. I was hoping Miss Akiyama would be so impressed with my dancing that she wouldn’t notice my feet at all, but she did right away. Alas again.
“What do you have on your feet, Cinderella?” she asked.
“One regular tap shoe and one homemade one.” I hoped that would be the end of the discussion.
Rosemary T. rolled her eyes at me and made a big face to Rosemary W. “That is so dumb,” she said.
“And weird too,” said Rosemary W.
“Please explain.” Miss Akiyama sounded more interested than mad.
“My tap shoe is missing,” I said. “So I brought my thumbtacked sneaker to practice in.”
Rosemary T. rolled her eyes again.
Miss Akiyama looked at me quite serious. “I would rather you practice in ballet slippers today and find your real tap shoe before our next class.”
“Okay,” I said, even though I didn’t know how I was going to find it.
That night Erin called me to say that she’d spent so many minutes staring at herself in the bathroom mirror that her mom had to knock on the door to make sure she was okay. Her name was all over the FOR-SURE WICKED page.
“I wish you were in my dance class,” I said, getting ready to tell her about my shoe.
“My mom decided I can only do soccer this fall,” said Erin. “With the wedding coming up, we have a lot going on. I can start in the winter if I want to, but I have to choose that or basketball.”
“I’m always having to choose too,” I said. “My mom is big into not overscheduling.” Then I whispered, “Actually, if I don’t find my tap shoe, maybe I’ll play basketball too.”
“You lost your tap shoe?” Erin asked.
“Yep,” I whispered, not wanting my mom to hear, “and I can’t find it anywhere.”
“I’ll help you find it,” said Erin. “That’s what friends are for.”
That made me feel so happy that I stopped worrying about my missing shoe for a while. But by the next morning it was all I could think about.
It was a little drizzly, and me and Erin shared my umbrella while we waited for school to start.
“I thought you said it wouldn’t rain until Halloween,” said Erin.
“This isn’t rain,” I said. “This is dribbly-spit.”
“Dribbly-spit?”
“That’s what we call it at my house,” I said. “I’m not sure what the scientific name is.”
The bell rang and we lined up.
Charlie and Jack bounced their basketballs in figure eights around us and the Rosemarys, who were sharing an umbrella behind us. The Rosemarys squealed every time the boys got too close, but we pretended not to notice.
“Not even the rain, I mean dribbly-spit, stops them,” whispered Erin.
We checked the Lost and Found at recess. It was huge and covered three lunch tables.
“If we don’t find my tap shoe in here,” I said, “maybe we could make ‘Lost’ posters for it like they do for missing pets.”
“That’s a great idea,” said Erin. “We can hang them all over. Yuck!” She dropped someone’s headgear back into the pile.
On account of how careful we were looking, we knocked some things off the tables. We picked them back up, though; and that’s when the school secretary, Mrs. Bentley, saw us. She thanked us a ton for helping clean up the mess instead of being at recess. And I didn’t think until later that she probably didn’t know we made the mess in the first place.
When Mrs. Bentley walked us out to the playground, I told her the whole story of my lost tap shoe and the recital and the posters me and Erin were going to make. She told us we could hang three on the doors at school so everyone who came in the building would see them.
When recess was over and we got back in to class, I had an AHA! and raised my hand.
“Yes, Cinderella,” said Mr. Harrison.
“Can I make an announcement, please?”
“Certainly!” said Mr. Harrison, very enthusiastic as usual.
I stood up. “I have lost a very important tap shoe. It’s shiny, ruby red with a fancy bow, and has my name on it. If anybody finds it I would be very, extremely grateful. Also, there will be a reward.” I hadn’t thought about the reward thing until that very minute. I added it because the class was looking a little bored. People put their hands up. “Can I take questions?”
“Sure,” said Mr. Harrison.
“What’s the reward?” asked Charlie.
“It’s a surprise-prize, which is the best kind.” But really I didn’t know what it was yet.
“Will you give yourself a surprise-prize if you find your own shoe?” Logan asked.
“Of course,” I said.
Rosemary T. raised her hand. “Miss Akiyama won’t let you be in the recital if you don’t find your shoe,” she said.
“That’s not a question,” I said. “And I’m not doing comments now.”
“Time for PE, everyone!” said Mr. Harrison.
I heard some groaning from the Rosemarys’ table, and that made me smile. I like PE pretty well, but I like it even better knowing that the Rosemarys don’t.
Chapter 10
Autographed Orange High-tops
Walking home from school with my mom and Tess and Erin should have been very, extremely fun, but I was too nervous. Erin and I were going to make posters for my shoe, and that meant I had to tell my mom the news. I took a big breath of air to get brave and spilled the beans.
“Mother,” I said.
“Mother?” My mom’s eyebrow started to go up.
“I have some bad news to share, and it is bad with a capital B. My tap shoe is missing.”
My mom’s eyebrow kept going up.
“But, but, but,” I said, trying to make her eyebrow go down again. “Erin and I are going to make posters all about it today and hang them all over the block.”
Her eyebrow stayed half up and half down.
“We already checked all through the Lost and Found and I made an announcement and Mrs. Bentley says we can hang posters at school. Also, I searched all over the house and I told Miss Akiyama and I searched all over the dance studio too.”
I looked at my mom, but I couldn’t tell which way her eyebrow was going.
“Halt!” said Tess. That’s army for “stop,” and she said it because we were standing in front of our house.
Erin and I raced inside and up to my room so we wouldn’t have to talk any more about it.
“Do you have a shoe collection?” Erin asked.
I looked around my room. “I didn’t think I did, but maybe I do.”
“Why is this one in a frame?” she asked.
“I guess because it’s sort of special,” I said. “It’s half of the first pair of shoes I ever wore. They were a present, but I lost one on the way home from the hospital.”
“It sure is cute,” said Erin. “What’s this one doing on a shelf?”
It was an autograph-covered orange high-top.
“I lost it down the bleachers at a basketball game,” I said. “The team signed it before they sent it back to me.”
“That’s pretty awesome,” she said.
“Snacks ready!” my mom called. “And the poster supplies are laid out.”
Erin and I ran to the dining room and got to work. We wrote LOST across the top of each poster in big letters. Next we drew a picture of my tap shoe. We made it ruby red with a fancy bow like in real life. We wrote my shoe size and then we put down my name and address. At the very bottom we wrote REWARD really big to get people’s attention, since it worked in class.
We headed out the door with some tape and heard the bouncing noise.
“There’s Charlie playing basketball of course, like I told you he would be,” I said. “And I guarantee you that Rosemary T. will appear as soon as she sees us.”
“Alas,” said Erin.
Cinderella Smith Page 4