I hung up my coat, then tiptoed toward my bedroom, but Mina’s eyes lasered in on me. “Sheyda, will you back me up on this? Tell them how ridiculous they’re being.”
I blinked. No way was I getting dragged into an argument between Mina and my parents. “Um, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Mina threw up her hands, her flushed cheeks matching the neon-red streak in her pixie-cut hair. “Doesn’t anyone in this family ever hear a word I say?” She slumped down in her chair at the kitchen table, then glared at me. “The ski trip to Vermont with Rehann and Josh? Remember?”
“Oh … that.”
Mina had been whispering about the trip to me for weeks, plotting ways to convince Mom and Dad to let her go. Rehann was Mina’s best friend, and Josh was Mina’s latest crush at East Village High. It was Rehann who’d had the idea for a ski trip, since her parents owned a condo in Vermont. I’d watched Mina’s fantasy blossoming as she gleefully texted Rehann and Josh, making plans to go the first weekend in February. The whole time I knew that her chance of going on the trip was as low as the chance that New Yorkers would give up bagels.
Now I could see the vein on the side of Dad’s temple pulsing, and Mom was wearing her classic disapproval face. I didn’t like seeing them stressed, but Mina had this effect on them. She’d been dealt the rebel card from birth. The list of her “achievements” had grown into a kind of legend in the Nazari family. At age three she’d poured dishwashing detergent into her preschool’s toilets to give bubble baths to the classroom’s dolls. At age five she’d tried “running away” to live in Tompkins Square Park. Luckily, Mr. Giovanni, the owner of the corner bodega, caught sight of her toting her pillow and backpack before she could even cross Sixth Street. Last year, she’d cut off her beautiful long locks before dyeing the remaining jagged hair red. The last few months, she’d taken her renegade act up a notch.
“You’re not going,” Dad said firmly to Mina. “That’s the end of it.”
“But Rehann’s and Josh’s parents will all go as chaperones! I’ll be safer on the slopes of Killington than I am riding the subway! You can’t say no!” She jabbed a finger at me, and I pressed my back against the wall, wanting to disappear. “Sheyda, tell them! You think I should be able to go, don’t you?”
Mom glanced at me, her eyes sending me a silent, Please don’t. Ugh. I hated it when Mina put me in the middle.
“I have some work to do,” I muttered, then hurried down the hall.
“Way to throw me under the bus!” Mina called after me. As I shut the bedroom door, I heard the arguing resume. I wished I was back at Doughlicious. It was impossible to think straight while listening to angry voices.
I’d only just finished setting up my set-building materials on the desk when I heard the front door slam. A minute later, Mom stuck her head into my bedroom, looking like she’d just escaped combat.
“Was that Mina leaving?” I asked.
She sighed. “She went for a run.” She pressed her forehead against the doorframe, closing her eyes. “I hate being the enemy.”
“You’re not, Mom,” I said, getting up to give her a quick hug.
She surveyed the desk. “Working on your application?” she asked, and before I could answer she added absently, “Looks great.”
I glanced at the blank sketch pad. Sure. It looked great. Like a great, big nothing.
Mom turned toward the kitchen. “I’m going to finish up dinner. Too bad this isn’t our takeout night.”
“I know, but it smells great.” Living in the city wasn’t cheap, especially on Mom and Dad’s salaries (they were both pro bono lawyers). We were always careful with money, so our family rule was takeout once a month. “I can help with dinner,” I offered, hoping to cheer her up.
Mom hesitated. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“It can wait,” I said. I took one last look at my desk, my stomach sinking. I’d get back to work later.
But if I didn’t come up with an idea by February, what was I going to do?
Suzanne Nelson has written several children’s books, including Cake Pop Crush, Macarons at Midnight, Hot Cocoa Hearts, and Serendipity’s Footsteps. She lives with her family in Ridgefield, Connecticut, where she can be found experimenting with all kinds of cooking. Learn more about Suzanne at www.suzannenelson.com.
Copyright © 2014 by Suzanne Nelson
Bacon illustration © Memphisslim/Shutterstock, Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing 2016
Cover design by Jennifer Rinaldi and Yaffa Jaskoll
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e-ISBN 978-1-338-09920-1
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