by Coco Simon
I tucked the monster into a pocket in my bag. Emma’s little brother, Jake, would like it. I could give it to him. But I was still thinking about Ethan when I went to sleep.
I felt better when I woke up the next morning, and Dad was in a good mood too. He had woken up early and gotten us bagels, which don’t seem to taste the same if you get them outside New York City. After breakfast, we walked over to Ava’s apartment. She was waiting outside for us.
“Mia Face!” she yelled, giving me a hug, and I knew she was as happy to see me as I was to see her.
“How’s everything going?” I asked.
“Good,” Ava replied. “What’s up with you?”
I thought about telling her about Dad and Lynne’s breakup, but Dad was standing right there, so that might have been weird.
“Not much,” I replied. “Come on, I’m psyched to see the exhibit.”
The Met is a pretty short subway ride away, so we got there pretty fast, but once we got there we found a long line for the costume exhibit. My dad told us he was going to check out the photography exhibit. As soon as he left, Ava and I talked a mile a minute about what was happening with all my old friends from the city, and then I told Ava about the Fashion Club.
“That girl Olivia again?” Ava asked, making a face. “Are you sure you want to be in a club with her?”
I shrugged. “I mean, it’s just a club. Believe me, I don’t plan on getting involved with her in a close way again. So I figure it’ll be all right.”
Ava looked dubious, but we changed the subject and talked about the exhibit.
“The exhibit will ‘highlight the origins of the punk movement and draw direct connections to haute couture and ready-to-wear creations that it has inspired for the past three decades,’ ” I read out loud from an article I had found on my phone.
“I love haute couture,” Ava said. “All those beautiful, fancy runway clothes.”
I nodded. “It’s, like, made with the best fabrics and with the finest craftsmanship,” I said. “It’s kind of weird to think of it and punk in the same sentence, since punk is all about ripped fabric and stuff.”
We finally got inside, and it was totally worth the wait. There were photos and costumes from punk rock stars from the seventies, and you could see designer dresses from years later that had some of the same elements—black fabric that looked like spiderwebs, or safety pins that looked like jewels on designer gowns.
I took photos like crazy to show to the Fashion Club. I could definitely see how the punk stuff from back in the seventies influenced what some kids wore today—especially Beth and her friends.
“Beth is going to love this,” I said, taking a picture of a rocker in a black jacket covered with random rips, safety pins, and metal studs.
“I think I would wear that,” Ava said.
“Yeah, you’ve got the hair for it,” I agreed. Ava is half Korean and half Scottish, and she has the most awesome, glossy black hair that’s perfectly straight.
We spent a couple of hours looking around at everything when I got a text from Dad: Hungry! U done? Meet me in food court.
I looked at Ava. “Dad wants us to eat now.”
Ava frowned a little. “Aw. There’s so much more to look at.”
“I know,” I said. “But maybe I’ll come back with the Fashion Club. You could come back with us.”
“I just might,” Ava replied. “I need to get a look at this Olivia for myself.”
I laughed. “She’s not that bad, really.”
Boy, was I wrong!
CHAPTER 5
Trouble in Parent-dise?
Weekends with Dad always go by superfast, especially when I have to bring homework with me, because my teachers love to give lots of it. Katie always jokes that grading homework papers must be their favorite hobby, and sometimes I’m sure she’s right. And what’s even better is that even though Mom knows I always do my homework at Dad’s, she always bugs me about it when I get home.
“So, are you all done with your homework?” Mom asked as we were eating dinner that Sunday night.
“What do you think?” I replied, stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork, which I know is kind of rude but I am so tired of that question, honestly.
“Mia, a yes or no answer, please,” Mom said in a tight voice.
I sighed. “Yes. Like I always do.”
Mom shook her head. “Honestly, it’s a simple question. I don’t know why you can’t just answer me nicely.”
“Well, you never ask Dan about his homework,” I pointed out.
Eddie turned to Dan with a big smile on his face. “Dan, did you do all your homework?”
Dan was shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth. He swallowed and said, “Got to finish math. No big deal.”
“See? Was that so hard?” Mom asked, looking at me.
I ignored her and took a bite of my chicken.
“So,” Eddie said, still smiling. Eddie’s always the one who likes to make peace in the house when things get tense. He doesn’t like drama. “I’m glad you’ll be here next week, Mia. My sister, Connie, and her husband, Simón, are coming for a visit and they’d love to meet you.”
Mom’s face froze. “What do you mean ‘next week’?” she asked.
“I thought I told you,” Eddie responded. “Remember, we talked about it a while ago?”
“But I didn’t think we decided on a date.” Mom’s voice was getting high-pitched, like it does when she’s upset.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” Eddie said. “We can talk about this later, okay?”
Mom nodded, but she didn’t say anything. Then she started stabbing her chicken with her fork, just like I was doing.
When dinner was over I helped clear the table, and then I retreated to my room. It’s totally, like, my sanctuary in the house, and it took about a year to get it just perfect. The walls are pale turquoise, and the furniture is kind of old, but Eddie helped me paint it glossy white with black trim, so it looks really cool. There’s a small drafting table—the slanted kind, so I can sit and draw there if I want—although I end up doing most of my sketches in bed, in a sketch pad.
My favorite thing in my room is the closet, which is almost as big as my whole room in the apartment in Manhattan. I can organize my clothes by season and then by color, which is really helpful since Mom gets a lot of free clothes for me from her designer friends.
I unpacked my bag, stuffing almost everything into my white laundry hamper. The last thing I pulled out was the purple monster. I quickly stuffed it into my school backpack, so I could give it to Emma. I didn’t want to have to keep seeing it.
Then I flopped onto my bed and checked the texts on my phone. There are always a bunch from Katie, Emma, and Alexis, but the first one I saw was from Beth.
Next Fashion Club meeting Wed after school.
English room.
Rats! Wednesday again, and I knew I had Cupcake Club meetings on Wednesdays for at least the next month. I couldn’t miss two CC meetings in a row. That wouldn’t be fair to everyone else. But I didn’t want to miss the Fashion Club meeting, either.
I texted Beth, making sure not to reply to everybody else.
Could we move the meetings to Tuesday? I can’t do Wednesdays.
To my surprise, Beth texted me back right away.
Y not? CU Tuesday.
Then seconds later she sent out a text to everyone saying that the meeting had changed. I felt pretty proud of myself for handling that so well. Now I didn’t have any conflict between the Cupcake Club and the Fashion Club. Things were going more smoothly than I had hoped.
Then I saw a text from Katie.
Need to tell you about movie nite w Mom and Jeff, she typed.
Stuff 2 tell u 2, I replied, thinking of Dad’s breakup.
Oh no! You OK? Katie asked.
I was about to type a reply when I heard some loud noises outside my room. It kind of sounded like Mom yelling, and I hadn’t heard that since I was younger and Mo
m and Dad got divorced. Curious, I opened my bedroom door.
Mom and Eddie’s bedroom door was closed, but the yelling was definitely coming from there. I could make out some of the stuff they were saying.
“You are always making plans without me! What were you thinking?”
“Why is this so upsetting? It’s family. You don’t plan for family.”
“You don’t plan for family, but I do. . . .”
I quickly closed my door. It didn’t really matter to me what they were fighting out; what bothered me was that they were fighting.
Mom and Eddie never fought. I mean, never. If anything, they were always kind of lovey-dovey, which was gross, but they never yelled at each other.
I sat on my bed, my mind spinning. Mom and Dad had gotten divorced. Dad and Lynne had broken up. What if Mom and Eddie got divorced next?
This thought scared me a lot more than Dad’s breakup, because this was way different. Eddie will never take the place of my dad, but I love him like a dad. And Dan is really cool for a stepbrother, and I’ve known him a lot longer than I’ve known Ethan, and I live in the same house with him.
If Mom and Eddie got divorced, we’d have to move out of the house. Would we leave Maple Grove? Go back to Manhattan or to some other place I didn’t know? And since Eddie wasn’t my real dad, I’d probably never get to see him again.
I didn’t cry, but I started to kind of breathe really fast, and my face felt flushed. I tried to calm down; it was just one argument, right? People argue all the time.
But that’s how it started with Mom and Dad, and then there were more and more arguments that got louder and louder.
I wiped the thought from my mind. Mom and Eddie were really happy. There is nothing to worry about, I told myself.
But when I went to sleep, it was still on my mind.
CHAPTER 6
Fashion Frustration
You never told me about your sad face,” Katie said as she slid into the seat next to me on the bus the next day.
“Sad face?” I asked, but then I remembered as soon as I said it. I had never replied to Katie’s text the night before. “Oh yeah, that. Well . . . Dad and Lynne broke up.”
“No way!” Katie cried. “Seriously? They were dating for a while. What happened?”
I shrugged. “Dad said it just didn’t work out or something.”
“So, no more Ethan then, I guess?” Katie asked. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I’m not sure. I kind of miss him in a weird way.”
Katie looked thoughtful. “I don’t know how I would feel if Mom and Jeff broke up. I guess I’ve kind of gotten used to him. I’d probably miss him and Emily, too.”
Of all my friends, I knew Katie would understand. She always does. That’s why she’s my BFF here.
“So, how did the whole movie date go?” I asked her.
“Pretty good,” Katie informed me. “The best part was that Jeff let me and Emily pick out candy from the snack stand, and Mom never lets me get that. She says it’s too expensive and rots your teeth. But when Jeff offered to do it, she didn’t say anything.”
“Wow, she must really like him,” I said, and then for a second I thought about Mom and Eddie. They used to agree with each other all the time too. But I didn’t say anything about that to Katie, because I didn’t really feel like talking about it.
At lunch I broke the news about Dad and Lynne to Alexis and Emma, and I gave Emma the little purple monster.
“It was for Ethan, but I thought Jake might like it,” I said.
“He’ll love it,” Emma said. “That’s sweet of you.”
And then for the first time in days, I felt relieved. I didn’t have to talk about the whole thing anymore if I didn’t want to—and I really didn’t want to.
The next day after school was our next Fashion Club meeting. All the same girls were there, and Beth was late again. I figured out she’s one of those people who are always late; people like that are just born that way, I think.
Anyway, as soon as Beth walked in, Olivia started complaining.
“So why are we meeting on Tuesday, exactly?” she asked.
“Mia asked,” Beth replied as she took her seat.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I should have known. Of course we have to change everything around for Mia.”
Don’t let her get to you. Don’t let her get to you, I told myself. Out loud, I said, “If Wednesdays are better for everybody, that’s okay with me. I just can’t come to every meeting, that’s all.”
Everyone just kind of shrugged.
“Tuesdays are okay with me,” Julia said, and the others nodded in agreement—except for Olivia, of course. But she didn’t protest, either.
“Okay, then,” Beth said. “So, um, what should we talk about?”
“I did a little research this weekend,” I offered. “The Met is doing a costume exhibit, and my friend Ava and I went. It might make a good field trip for us. I took a bunch of photos if you want to see. The theme was punk rock’s influence on fashion.”
“I read about that,” Libby said, looking up from her phone. “We should definitely go.”
“Um, I thought we were going to talk about putting on a fashion show,” Olivia piped loudly. Everyone looked at her, and she paused for a moment and then smiled. Olivia has this way of getting everyone’s attention when she talks; Eddie says people like that have “charisma.”
“Oh, right,” Beth agreed. “Why? Did you have some ideas?”
“Lots,” Olivia said smugly. “At my old school, we had a fashion show, and we got one of the shops in the mall to lend us the clothes. We could probably do the same thing.”
“Wait, then who models the clothes?” asked Chelsea. Today she was wearing a hat that looked like a fuzzy bear’s head.
“We do, of course,” Olivia replied.
Chelsea frowned. “I thought this was a fashion club, not a model club.”
“I’ll model,” Julia volunteered.
“Me too,” offered Jasmine.
“Maybe not everyone has to model,” I suggested. “We could always get other people to be models, too. And there are lots of other jobs involved in a fashion show, like styling the models and doing the music and organizing things backstage.”
“Wow, you’re like a fashion show expert,” Julia quipped, and I could see Olivia immediately become annoyed.
“My mom is a professional fashion stylist,” I said, “so I’ve been to a lot of shows.”
“Well, of course not everyone has to model,” Olivia chimed in. “Chelsea can do whatever she wants.”
“Your mom is a stylist?” asked Chelsea. “That is the coolest thing ever.”
“As I was saying,” said Olivia, not wanting to lose the spotlight.
“I really like this idea,” Beth said. “We could do it on a weekend, in the auditorium.”
“I need to check my schedule,” Libby said, her eyes glued to her phone again. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a violin recital coming up.”
Beth nodded. “So I guess we, um, have to make plans and pick jobs and stuff.”
“You know, we could get cupcakes from the Cupcake Club for the event,” I suggested. “People always want to eat something at a fashion show.”
“You mean, like, we should buy cupcakes to give away for free?” Olivia asked with another classic eye roll. “First of all, we don’t have a budget. Second, fashion shows usually have grapes and cheese and stuff like that. Cupcakes are so juvenile.”
“We have provided cupcakes for a fashion show before,” I said defensively. “We do all kinds of events.”
At this point, I couldn’t help noticing that Beth was being pretty wishy-washy about everything we talked about. Wasn’t she supposed to be the club president? Olivia kept putting down everything I had brought up, and it would have been nice to get a little support from Beth.
“We probably shouldn’t worry about refreshments just yet,” Libby remarked. “
Shouldn’t we, like, figure out what kind of clothes we want for the show?”
“We could go to the mall,” Olivia said. “Friday night?”
I looked at the calendar on my phone. On Friday I had typed in “CC baking night.”
“I can’t go Friday,” I said.
Olivia looked around. “Can everyone else go?”
“I can go at seven,” Libby replied as everyone else nodded. “Is that okay?”
“Perfect,” Olivia said. “Sorry you can’t go, Mia. Maybe the Fashion Club is too much for you, with your busy schedule and all.”
“No, it’s fine,” I snapped. Olivia was starting to get under my skin, and I hated that.
“Then it’s settled, then,” Olivia said, looking very pleased with herself.
I was starting to think I had made a big mistake in joining the club when Libby surprised me.
“Hey, can we look at those photos you took at the punk exhibit?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’d like to see them too,” Chelsea added.
“Sure,” I replied, reaching into my backpack. I had printed them out at home and made a quick presentation out of them. Everybody gathered around to look at them and seemed pretty excited about planning a trip, even Olivia. So that was nice, and I decided to stick with the Fashion Club. I wasn’t going to let Olivia spoil it for me.
I just hoped Olivia wouldn’t spoil it for everyone else, too.
CHAPTER 7
Cupcake Confidential
That night at dinner I reminded Mom and Eddie about my weekend schedule.
“Friday is cupcake baking, and Katie’s mom said I could sleep over,” I reported. “Saturday morning is cupcake delivery, and then I’ve got soccer practice Sunday morning. But I’ll be around Saturday night for dinner, Eddie. We’re having dinner with Connie and Simón, right?”
“Oh, that,” Eddie said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “We’re not doing that on Saturday after all.”
I looked at Mom, but she was staring down at her bowl of pasta. I guess she had won that argument. So it was over, but things seemed to be a little tense between her and Eddie, and I started to worry again. First, Dad and Lynne, and now maybe Mom and Eddie?
