by Abby Cooper
“Totally,” Zoe told Bo.
She flashed me a sideways smile and followed Bo to our room. I took a few more big breaths. The mall was so fun, and dinner would be too. But my heart was still beating too fast. What if Zoe’s hair clips came out, or her fake glasses fell right off her face, or her sticky earrings unstuck? One little slip and Dad might realize that real Zoe and notebook Zoe were the same Zoe. And he’d freak out, and his cancer would probably come rushing back. Maybe I was being paranoid, but either way, I couldn’t risk it.
So while Zoe did art projects with Bo, I took out my notebook and sparkly pencil, and I made sure Zoe wouldn’t accidentally let her real identity slip.
* * *
Zoe and Jade were having another super-fun day. School was great, the mall was amazing, and dinner would be pure awesomesauce. (Literally, because Mom was making pasta with her famous sauce.) Even though Zoe looked different now, her personality was the same. She was still friendly and outgoing, and Jade knew her family would love her.
At dinner, everybody had good, normal conversations. Zoe did the best job remembering that Jade’s family—her dad especially—would be so confused and freaked out if they knew she was the Zoe from Jade’s stories. She was totally up for helping to hide it however she could. So she made sure to keep her accessories in place.
It was the perfect end to another perfect day.
* * *
I closed my notebook right as Mom was calling everybody to the table.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” Zoe said once we were all seated. “This is so great. I’m so happy to be here.”
Mom and Dad smiled at her and then at each other. A warm, fuzzy feeling overtook me. My parents were happy. Not worried. Not tired. Not stressed out. After all these zillions of years in Tiveda watching people come and go, their daughter finally had a real best friend in the world and she was at the table. Now everybody could relax. Maybe even me.
“I can eat spaghetti with my ears,” Bo told Zoe. “Watch.”
“Bo.” Mom made a face, and he put the noodle down.
“Fine,” he said. “But I really can.”
“I believe you,” Zoe said. She munched on some roasted carrots and got this look on her face like she was in food heaven. “These are amazing! Wow. Wow. Wow. These are the most delicious orange sticks I have ever had in my entire life.”
I coughed. Orange sticks? Pretty sure they were the only orange sticks (aka carrots) she’d ever had in her entire life, but Mom and Dad probably didn’t need to know that.
I snuck a peek at my parents. They looked more entertained than anything else, but we were one second away from who-is-this-girl-and-why-does-she-not-seem-to-know-what-carrots-are questions.
So I did the only thing I could do—I lifted some carrots to my mouth in a super-excited, I-could-totally-be-in-a-commercial-for-carrots-in-fact-Zoe-and-I-are-actually-performing-one-right-now kind of way.
“Mmmm, carrots,” I said.
Zoe’s eyes lit up. “Carrots!” she repeated. “What a word! What a food!”
“They’re the carrot-y-iest carrots in the world,” I added.
Everybody erupted into laughs. I leaned back in my seat and took a breath. Okay. Our secret was safe for now.
“How was kindergarten today, Bo?” Zoe asked once everyone calmed down.
“So fun!” He threw a handful of spaghetti noodles in the air, and Mom gave him another look. It was one thing to throw a noodle at Dad’s hat or to threaten to eat it with your ears. It was a little different to basically dump a handful on the floor. “It’s confetti,” he explained. “For celebration of fun kindergarten.”
I looked at Zoe, and she looked at me, her eyes gleaming. Without saying a word, we both burst into laughter.
OPPSERVATION: Sometimes perfect nights don’t look perfect. Your best friend wears a goofy disguise and goes bonkers for carrots. Food ends up all over the floor, and you have to help clean it up even though you weren’t the one who made the mess.
Questions for further research: Why can’t every night be this unexpectedly good?
But of course it couldn’t just stay that way.
“Hey, Jade,” Dad called to me before bed. “What are the chances, after all this time, that you’d actually make a friend named Zoe? Pretty funny, right?”
It felt wrong to try to lie or agree that it was so super funny. So instead of saying anything, I bent down and hugged him again.
“Night, Dad.”
He squeezed me as tight as he could, which wasn’t very tight at all.
“Night, Jade.”
16
School Supplies and Other Major Dangers
I woke up the next day with a big smile on my face. Our night was so fun. Talking about carrots, playing board games after dinner…even helping Bo clean up noodles was fun. My smile stayed on at school too. Nothing could bug me today. Not Clue, not Sparkle Girls, not health class or any class. I could walk into a field of sharks and vampires and they might as well all be covered in rainbows and butterflies and spaghetti confetti. I had no doubt that today would be as amazing as yesterday. Maybe even more.
And it was—until I got to English and Mrs. Yang called me up to her desk.
“Hey, Jade. I wanted to see how the writing’s going this week.”
Oh, hello, sweaty hands and desert-dry mouth. I was so getting busted for my zero-word days. But actually, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Just because I hadn’t written at lunch lately didn’t mean I hadn’t written at all.
“Pretty good,” I said. “I’ve been writing a lot at home. Like, a lot a lot.” I peeked over my shoulder to check on Zoe. I was a tiny bit worried she might get confused by erasers or rulers or highlighters or something. Last night after she went home, I’d gone through my old stories and made a list of things she knew about, and those were not on the list, just like carrots. What if she tried to sharpen her pencil and accidentally sharpened a finger instead?
“Oh, yeah? I’m glad to hear it,” Mrs. Yang said. I forced myself to look back at her, but it felt like there was some kind of magnetic force that wanted me to watch Zoe instead. “You’re a real writer, you know,” Mrs. Yang added. “Writers have to write no matter what else is going on in their lives. They always make the time.”
“Sorry, what?” Taking a super-short peek behind me revealed that Zoe and Afiya were talking. Not that that was a problem. But I probably needed to get over there soon.
“I mainly wanted to see if you’re all right,” she continued. “You’ve seemed a little distracted this week.”
I made myself look her in the eye. Today her typical warm smile felt more annoying than comforting. “I’m good,” I said quickly. “Really. Just busy. I feel like my main character is depending on me, you know?”
Mrs. Yang nodded. “It’s good to write characters who feel real,” she said. “They do depend on you, in a way. But sometimes it’s the other way around, and writers depend on their characters. They get so caught up in their work that they can’t tell where their stories end and real life begins.” She tapped her nails against her desk. “Believe it or not, it’s actually good for writers to take a break every now and then. Writers have to write, of course, but they should also spend time being present in their lives.”
“Mmhmm. Totally.” Usually I was super into whatever writing advice Mrs. Yang wanted to share, but this little tidbit seemed pretty obvious. Like, yeah, writers get really into their stories. Duh. They should. And of course they should do stuff in real life too. That’s exactly what I was doing: writing Zoe and then hanging out with Zoe. So it was like, Thanks, Mrs. Yang, but also please stop talking so I can go write more and make sure my not-so-fictional character does what she needs to do.
Finally, after what felt like the longest conversation ever, Mrs. Yang waved her hand like, Okay, whatever, moving on, and told me
I could be seated. I raced over to Zoe instead.
“Hi,” she said. I took a long breath. She hadn’t chopped off any fingers or anything while I was gone, it looked like, so that was a relief.
“Hey.” I twirled a piece of hair around my finger. “Sorry I got called away to talk to the teacher.”
“Oh, no problem. Gave me a chance to hang out with Afiya a little.”
My throat tightened. “Cool. What were you talking about?”
Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know. Food, mostly. Afiya says there are a lot of things I need to try.”
I tried to smile, but my mouth wouldn’t do it. What was my deal? It was good Zoe wanted to try what Afiya recommended. If that led to her wanting to try other new things, that’d be good too. It would only be a problem if it led to her wanting to try other best friends.
As Mrs. Yang started class, I grabbed my pencil and notebook.
School could be kind of a danger zone, sometimes. There were things that could hurt you. A lot of them were school supplies. (Seriously, who decided staplers were a good idea? There had to be a better way to hold a bunch of papers together.) But all kinds of things could hurt. People could hurt you too. Words could. And at school, people, words, and school supplies were everywhere.
Luckily Zoe was smart and careful. She liked learning new things and meeting new people, but she checked with Jade before she did anything. That way, she could make sure that she went home happy each day, with all her fingers and nothing stapled together that shouldn’t be. She really appreciated how Jade always looked out for her. Even though there were a bunch of other people around who could sometimes be sort of interesting, she knew Jade was the only best friend she needed.
Mrs. Yang announced that we were going to have free-writing time, so I kept going.
Zoe started going over to Jade’s house for dinner every night. It seemed like everybody was happier when she was around. Jade’s mom was happy that she had someone new to test recipes on, Jade’s dad was happy that he could finally wear hats more than once because they’d be new to Zoe, Bo was happy that he had someone new to draw pictures of defeating the bad guy, and Jade was happy that everyone else was happy. Plus, she was regular happy too.
Even after hanging out for hours night after night, Zoe and Jade never got sick of each other, they never got bored, and they never thought about what it would be like to hang out with anybody else. When they were together, they forgot about everything else going on in the world—things like Jade’s dad’s cancer and the fact that they lived in a town full of dead flowers and weird, magical water—and concentrated only on fun. After Zoe went home and Jade climbed into bed, totally wiped out, they’d miss each other, even though they knew they’d see the other again the next morning.
OPPSERVATION: It was hard to miss someone you got to see so much.
Questions for further research: Why did I even think about missing Zoe at the same time that we were having the most fun we’d ever had?
I looked at what I’d written. They were just messy words scribbled on a page, just hopes and dreams and ideas, but they would become reality soon enough. Zoe had told me to be specific, after all, and I had delivered. I turned around to look at her. Without really knowing what I was thinking about, she grinned at me. Then she put down the scissors she was playing with. Whew. (Where did she even get scissors? It was seriously a good thing I was around.)
At the end of class Mrs. Yang announced that she’d like everyone to pass in their free-write, so she could take a peek at what we’d been working on.
My heart raced. Pass it in? I’d written in my notebook, and there was no way I was letting that out of my sight again.
I trailed behind everyone on the way out. Some kids handed over loose papers, while others set their notebooks on Mrs. Yang’s desk.
“Um, would it be okay if I didn’t share this time around?” I asked Mrs. Yang.
“Well, I noticed you writing quite a bit today,” she said. “I’d love to see what you’re working on so intently.”
I bit my lip. This smelled fishy. Was this her sneaky teacher way of trying to get me to do what she said and take a break and focus on my actual life? She didn’t understand that this notebook, these words, they were my life. They were Zoe’s life too.
“You can just rip out some pages if you don’t want to give me your whole enormous notebook,” she offered.
I tilted my head to the side. That was better, but it wasn’t going to work either. It sounded too risky. The pages probably needed to stay in my notebook in order to work in real life.
“Can you make a copy?” I asked. Teachers were always talking about making copies. It seemed like something they really enjoyed.
Mrs. Yang raised an eyebrow. “I guess so,” she said.
“Awesome! I’ll wait here,” I told her.
She gave me a funny look, but she left the room with my notebook. When she came back a couple minutes later, she had a copy of today’s work for her and a fully intact yellow notebook for me.
I breathed out and hugged it tight. Even though her advice this morning was way off, I still wanted to be an author someday. It would probably be smart to hear what she thought of my writing.
“Thanks for sharing this with me,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve been working on.”
“Just so you know,” I warned her, “the story is sort of…real…and magical. Like, things happen that wouldn’t normally happen in our world. So if you notice anything about, I don’t know, magical water or something, just go with it, okay? Also, it’s based on people I know.”
Mrs. Yang nodded. “Noted,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I smiled to myself, thinking of the story coming true.
“Me too,” I said.
17
Tater Tots With A Side of Sparkles
At lunch Zoe and I took our usual spots across from each other at our regular table, and she inspected everything on her tray.
“Are these Tater Tots?” she asked, in the same kind of voice you might use to ask, Is that million dollars for me?
“They sure are,” I said. We’d had them together in a story before, so unlike carrots, she basically knew what they were.
“Tater Tots!” she repeated.
“Tater Tots!” I tried to match the level of excitement in her voice.
“Tater Tots!” she said again.
“Tater Tots Tater Tots Tater Tots,” I answered.
It wasn’t one of the most interesting conversations we’d ever had, but it was definitely one of the goofiest, and that was just as good.
“Tater Tots Tater Tots,” she told me.
“Tater—”
“Um, hi?”
I looked up. Who would dare interrupt this obviously super-important conversation?
Afiya smiled. The rest of the Sparkles stood behind her with their trays. They all had something sparkly on—a headband, a necklace, a belt, you name it. Even Afiya’s hijab was made out of a shimmery green fabric.
The Sparkle Girls were always coming and going, like everyone else in this town. Somehow there were always more members to keep the group going. And no matter who was in the group, they never seemed to want to include me in it.
I tried to smile back at Afiya, but I was really confused at why they were standing there.
“Can we sit with you, Zoe?” Scarlett asked.
Oh.
“And with you, Jade?” Afiya added.
Gee, thanks.
Zoe grinned. “Hi! That would be—” she glanced my way, and before I even realized what I was doing, I shook my head the teeniest bit. A tiny part of me may have wanted to sit with them before, but not now that I had Zoe. It was obvious that they only wanted to hang out with her, not me. Still, telling them they couldn’t sit with us was kind of mean. Shaking m
y head a tiny bit was still shaking my head. I opened my mouth to change my mind, but Zoe spoke up first. “That would be not the best thing right now, I guess,” she said. “I’m sorry. But I hope you have an amazing lunch. Have you seen these Tater Tots? They’re the greatest, right? Almost better than orange—I mean, carrots!”
Afiya laughed. “You’re the funniest, Zoe. Maybe we can eat together tomorrow. We need to figure out what kind of chocolate you like!”
Then the Sparkles turned and walked away.
A bad feeling bubbled up in my throat. Why’d I have to shake my head like that? I wouldn’t like it if people shook their heads about me. But at the same time, when the Sparkles left, I couldn’t help feeling something like…relief.
“So, as we were saying.” I smiled. “Tater Tot Tater Tot Ta—”
“Why did you shake your head like that?” Zoe interrupted. “I…they seem cool, I think, right? I like people. And there are open seats by us.”
The inside of my mouth went desert-dry. I knew she was right. But it wasn’t like they had to go sit on the floor now or something like that. There were open seats all over the place. There were open seats at the tables by the garbage cans and by the milk line and a few at the table where Clue sat with a few girls from science…there were even some close to the door, which is the best place to be because then you get to leave first and beat all the walking traffic. Seats were everywhere. So couldn’t they go sparkle over in one of those places instead?
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I twirled some hair around a sweaty finger. “But there are lots of places they can sit. So everything’s okay. Right?”
“I know,” said Zoe, “but I think they wanted to sit with us. And talk to us. And be friends and stuff. Like we are.”
“Yeah, but…” I looked around and tried to think of something to say, but my mind was a total blank. Spotting Clue eyeballing us didn’t help my brain work better, either. He usually sat in different places, but no matter where he sat lately, he always seemed to be watching Zoe and me like a mad scientist back at the pond. It was awesome having her here, of course, but he had no idea just how tricky it was turning out to be.