Sugar, Spice, and Sprinkles

by Coco Simon

  “We need to finalize themes ASAP,” Claire said. “And we can’t just do the same old things this year, right? We want to be different. We want our Spirit Week to be the best ever!”

  “Exactly!” I agreed. We did want it to be the best ever. And definitely not the meanest ever.

  As we were discussing whether or not a Sports Jersey Day was fun or unoriginal, Allie and Tamiko came over to the table.

  “You guys—I have a great idea,” Tamiko interrupted. I watched nervously as Claire and Lee looked up at her in surprise. “DIY Day! Do it yourself. Everyone can make their own shirt and decorate it however they want. It’ll be great! And I don’t think any other schools do it, so you don’t have to worry about being unoriginal. Sports Jersey Day has been done. Like, many, many times.”

  Vikram immediately shook his head. “Sierra already pitched that to us last week. We don’t have the funds. And it’s not that original.”

  “Oh,” said Tamiko, sounding hurt.

  “Well, I’ve never heard of any school doing it,” said Allie, rushing to Tamiko’s defense. “Have you also thought about doing a Favorite Book Chara—”

  “Listen, your ice cream is great, but could you both please not interrupt us?” said Lee. “This is an official student council meeting, even though we had to have it here because of Sierra. Only people who are actual student council members get to vote on and decide the Spirit Week themes.”

  Allie’s and Tamiko’s jaws dropped open. Mine did too. I couldn’t help it. Lee could be so rude sometimes.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” Allie said quickly, and I could tell she was mortified. Here we were, in her own mother’s store, and she was getting yelled at about offering an idea. A good idea.

  “Anyway,” said Lee, his eyes narrowing, “aren’t you Allie Shear? Didn’t you move and leave MLK this year? If you don’t go to MLK anymore, why do you even care?”

  Allie’s cheeks looked like they were on fire.

  “You’re not at MLK anymore? Where do you go?” asked Vikram.

  Cheeks still flaming, Allie replied, “Vista Green.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “Vista Green? Are you serious?” Claire huffed and looked around the table as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Stop spying on our meeting, then.”

  “Spying?” Tamiko said. “You think she’s spying?”

  Allie shook her head vehemently. “I’m not spying. I was just trying to be helpful. I loved Spirit Week at MLK. Last year Sierra and Tamiko and I—”

  But before she could finish, Claire interrupted her. “Please—stop talking. Everyone at Vista Green acts like they’re total clones. They all wear the same clothes, same hair, same everything. We don’t want our school to become like that. Right, Sierra?”

  Everyone turned to look at me—the four other members of the student council and my two best friends. It was my worst nightmare. A worst nightmare for any person who hated conflict. I was being asked to choose sides, something I never, ever wanted to do. I wanted to jump up and defend my best friend, but I also wanted to stay on the student council and not get in trouble for moving our meeting and asking to hold it at Molly’s.

  I was stuck. I wished I could melt into a pool of ice cream soup and disappear. I would rather have eaten that stupid spicy Chocolate Chili cone than be in this mess.

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I say to make things better and not have anyone mad at me?

  After a minute Claire slammed her notebook closed with a bang. “Meeting adjourned. We’ll meet after school this week—at school—where there are no eavesdroppers. We’ll vote on the themes then.”

  Everyone packed up to leave, while I just sat there stupidly, feeling about as small as a piece of dust.

  CHAPTER SEVEN GUILTY

  As soon as the student council members were gone, I turned to look at Allie and Tamiko, dying to read their faces. I found only Tamiko standing there.

  While the student council members had been packing up and leaving in a huff, several customers had come in, and Allie was busy covering the counter and register. The college student who usually worked after us must have been late.

  “We… We should go help Allie,” I said, jumping to my feet.

  “Oh, now you want to help her?” said Tamiko angrily. “Why didn’t you help her five minutes ago, when she really needed it?”

  I shook my head and stared at the wall over Tamiko’s head. It was too hard to look her in the eye.

  She slammed her hand on the table. “What is wrong with those people, Sierra? What’s wrong with you?”

  I felt tears pooling in my eyes. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. And it had been all my fault!

  After a few minutes the customers left and Allie finished up at the counter. She came over to where Tamiko and I were facing off.

  Tears were steaming down my face now. I wiped them with my napkin, which was sticky with ice cream and probably made me look even more hideous.

  “It’s okay, Sierra,” said Allie. “You don’t need to cry. I’m not actually mad at you. I’m more mad at Claire for refusing to eat any ice cream!”

  Tamiko snorted. “ ‘Ice cream is mostly unhealthy sugars and fats,’ ” she mimicked.

  “Everything is okay to eat in moderation, unless you have health problems or something,” Allie continued. “Anyway, my mom always says that ice cream is good for the soul. So please don’t cry, Sierra! I’m not mad!”

  Allie’s willingness to forgive me was so kind that I almost couldn’t take it. I cried harder.

  “Allie, I’m so, so, so sorry. I should have said something! I should have stood up for you. You’re my best friend!”

  “I know,” said Allie. “And I know you feel miserable. That’s why I forgive you. I know it’s hard for you to be in situations like that.”

  I was so racked with guilt, it felt like I’d been poisoned with it. I could feel the guilt seeping through my body. I cared so much about my Sprinkle Sundays friendships. They were an important part of who I was. But what kind of person was I if I couldn’t stand up for my two best friends?

  “You’re too nice for your own good,” said Tamiko. “You need some backbone.”

  “Oh, Tamikoooo,” I sobbed.

  “Well, you do,” she replied. “I’m not as forgiving as Allie—sorry. I don’t understand why you’re on student council with those people. With that Claire.”

  I wiped my face again. “You know, Claire is actually really nice. And organized. She does a good job running the council. I mean, she’s nice until you mention Vista Green.”

  Tamiko crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously? She doesn’t seem nice at all, Sierra. Are you completely oblivious?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I know she was awful just now. But, see, she had this best friend, and they did everything together in elementary school, just like us! And then they split up to go to different middle schools, and her friend went to Vista Green. Anyway, they had some huge fight and never spoke again, and I think her heart is kind of broken over it. You know, her friendship heart.”

  “Like how we would feel if we weren’t friends anymore,” said Allie quietly. “I see why she would be upset. I guess her comments had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with her friend.”

  “It’s sad when friendships fall apart,” said Tamiko. “But that isn’t going to happen to us.”

  And then she pulled me and Allie into a group hug, which was extremely kind, since I didn’t feel I deserved it at all.

  “I’m going to make it up to you guys,” I blubbered. “I don’t know how, but I will.”

  “You don’t need to make anything up to us,” Allie declared.

  Tamiko, however, launched into another rant. “Honestly, Sierra, I didn’t like any of them. Lee and Vikram were mean too. Lee told me to butt out! I’m a student at MLK. Just because I’m not on the student council doesn’t mean my thoughts don’t matter. And they we
re jerks about my DIY idea, which I know is awesome.”

  “Lee is odd,” I agreed. “He can be super-nice and chatty sometimes, but then really mean. I’ve noticed that. But he’s an excellent treasurer. He’s so careful with the money. And Vikram always has good ideas….” I let my voice trail off as I watched Allie’s and Tamiko’s faces fall. Here they were, supporting me and hugging me and forgiving me after I had just royally let them down, allowing the student council to insult Allie in her own family store. And now I was standing up for those very people who’d insulted her.

  Why was I defending people I barely knew and wasn’t really friends with (nor would I want to be), when I couldn’t even stand up and defend Allie when I needed to?

  Tamiko saw the expression on my face and nodded. “You know you need to quit that awful student council, right?” she said. “I know you like being on it, but those kids aren’t nice, Sierra. It isn’t worth hanging out with mean people.”

  I thought about our last few meetings, and how worried I was about Twin Day and Anti–Vista Green Day. Tamiko was right. I wasn’t actually enjoying student council this year. And I didn’t have to do it. I chose to. So I could choose not to.

  “You know, I think you’re right. I should quit.”

  Allie’s face lit up. “Really? Wow. That would be a big deal for you, Sierra. You never quit anything.”

  “I know,” I said, “but I already know it’s the right thing to do because just saying it out loud has made me feel a little bit better.”

  Allie hugged me again, and I knew how lucky I was to have a friend like her. She was the truly sweet one, not me.

  * * *

  I headed home, mulling over in my head my conversation with my friends. It had been easy to agree with Allie and Tamiko that I should quit student council, but I knew it would be a whole other ball game to have to march into a meeting and quit to Claire’s face. What if she freaked out and yelled at me? Or told me I couldn’t quit because I had to finish the year? I hated confronting people and giving anyone any reason to be mad at me.

  Even worse, what if Claire said mean things about me at school? And told everyone I was a quitter or a jerk? Based on her attitude about her ex-friend Chloe, Claire seemed like she would hold grudges.

  Everyone at MLK thought I was kind and sweet and hardworking. I didn’t want to lose that reputation. And there was no denying that I cared about my reputation—a lot. I wanted to be liked.

  As soon as I walked into my house, I could smell Papi’s cooking. I was glad once again that I could enjoy eating ice cream and albóndigas without constantly worrying about fat. Food was one of the best parts of life, my parents said, and I agreed with them.

  “Dinner will be in ten minutes!” Papi called as I headed upstairs to drop off my bag with my student council notes.

  I passed Isa’s door on the way, and as usual it was shut tight. I paused, my fist shooting up and knocking on it almost instinctively.

  “Who is it?” she grumbled.

  “Can I come in?” I asked, shaking my head. Honestly. Couldn’t she just say “Come in”? There were only three people it could be—me, Mami, or Papi.

  “I guess.”

  I opened the door and walked in. Isa had a candle burning that smelled powdery and strange. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t say anything. One of our cats, Cinnamon, was curled up on her bed, and Isa was drawing in a sketch pad.

  “Isa, am I too nice?” I asked her.

  Isa’s eyes popped open wide. “Do you even have to ask? Yes, you are. Nice and sunny, that’s you.” And she pointed at my yellow sweater.

  Isa always said exactly what was on her mind, with no apologies to anyone. She didn’t try hard to make everyone like her—she didn’t care if they did. She was just unabashedly herself, take it or leave it.

  It wasn’t always easy to live with, but especially after everything that had happened at Molly’s that day, I sort of admired her bluntness.

  “Why are you asking?” Isa said.

  “It’s just that… well, I sort of envy how you can be so gruff and blunt with everyone. And no one thinks less of you. They just think, Well, that’s Isa. But if I were to act like that, they’d say I was mean.” I fiddled awkwardly with my hair. “It’s pretty cool how you can just… be you.”

  Isa looked surprised. She cleared her throat. “Being nice is you just being you. You actually are nice, Sierra. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “I know it’s not. But you see… I was in a situation where someone said something really mean to Allie, and I froze. I couldn’t even speak up and defend her! Because I didn’t want that other person to think I was a jerk.”

  “Standing up for your best friend doesn’t make you a jerk,” Isa said. “Why don’t you stop worrying so much about what everyone else is thinking?”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Isa said.

  “Okay.”

  “Now leave me alone so I can finish this drawing before dinner.”

  I grinned. Isa had just illustrated my point. She was never afraid to say exactly what she wanted when she wanted to. Most people would never tell me to leave them alone. But my sister would.

  “Thanks. Team P forever?” I said, raising my hand for a fist bump.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Isa said, but she ignored my raised hand.

  Fist bump rejected, I left her room and closed the door, heading to my own room to change into sweats before dinner. As I did, I tossed my yellow sweater into the corner of the closet, where I hopefully wouldn’t see it again for a while. It certainly hadn’t been lucky that day.

  CHAPTER EIGHT A DEFLATED BALLOON

  It’s one thing to make a decision in your head, but it’s another thing to actually carry it out.

  When I got to school on Monday, I resolved to quit the student council the first chance I got. But even though I saw Claire in the hallway a number of times, I couldn’t make myself go up to her and tell her. I pictured the look of disappointment, and probably anger, on her face. I’d be leaving her with no council secretary. I felt guilty and irresponsible.

  Someone else could have gotten this position and really enjoyed it. What was wrong with me? Was something wrong with me?

  So even though I passed Claire at least three times, I just smiled and walked on without saying anything.

  * * *

  On Tuesday at lunch, I sat with Tamiko and MacKenzie, one of our friends who’d transferred to MLK this year. I was sitting only inches from my friends, but my mind was far away, worrying about my to-do list.

  “It’s my favorite week of the year,” Tamiko was saying to MacKenzie. “You get to dress up, and there are bake sales, and an assembly and a pep rally. It’s the best.”

  “So what are the themes this year, Sierra?” MacKenzie asked me.

  “For what?” I said. I’d only been half listening to their conversation. The last thing I remembered was… Tamiko saying Science quiz tomorrow.

  “Spirit Week,” MacKenzie said. “Since I wasn’t here last year, I don’t know how it usually works at MLK.”

  Ugh. Spirit Week. I couldn’t escape it! That was what the whole school was thinking about. When would the student council announce the themes so that everyone could start planning their costumes and everything? Claire had texted that morning and organized a meeting for Friday, which was the soonest date that all of us could make it. We were going to hold the final vote at that meeting.

  I knew I should quit before then, but part of me reasoned it would be smarter to stay, so I could vote against Anti–Vista Green Day. If I had the power to stop that theme, I thought I should try.

  “Um, we still haven’t decided on the themes,” I said to MacKenzie. “We’re voting on Friday.”

  “You mean they’re voting on Friday,” said Tamiko. “Because you’re quitting student council ASAP, right, Sierra?”

  I frowned at her and sent secret eye signals telling her to knock it off. I didn’t want to explain the whole mes
s to MacKenzie, and I didn’t appreciate Tamiko bringing it up in front of her. I didn’t need MacKenzie thinking less of me too.

  Tamiko rolled her eyes. “I know you so well, Sierra. You’re doubting yourself. You’re wondering if you should quit, and what will happen, and will everyone hate you? I get it. It’s not fun to quit something midyear. But being on that council is making you unhappy, and less nice. That’s not right. Spend your time on activities and people that make you feel good about yourself.”

  “It’s not that,” I said quickly, even though she was dead-on. “I am planning to quit. I just haven’t had the right minute to tell Claire yet, and I don’t want it getting around school first.”

  MacKenzie looked stricken. “I wouldn’t tell anyone, Sierra. Honestly.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I said. “But let’s stop talking about it anyway. Okay?” I emphasized the last word, looking pointedly at Tamiko.

  “Okaaaay,” she replied. “Do you want to talk about this slab of dog food that passes as a hamburger here instead?” She held up her lunch from the cafeteria, and I had to agree—it didn’t look appetizing.

  “Maybe Vista Green kids are snobs,” she joked, “but only because they’ve been spoiled by having edible food.”

  “My brother’s best friend goes to Vista Green,” said MacKenzie. “He’s really nice.”

  “See? There you go,” said Tamiko. What point she was trying to make exactly, I didn’t understand, but I got her meaning well enough.

  “I’ll do it, Tamiko,” I said. “I. Will. Do. It.”

  “It might help if you stop thinking of it as quitting,” Tamiko added. “You’re resigning. Because of creative differences. It happens all the time in the fashion world.”

  I burst into laughter. Tamiko had an answer for everything! She was a good friend, and a good person. She would never want to have an Anti–Vista Green Day, even if Allie didn’t go there. And she would never let someone talk her into voting for it either.

  In my mind I continued to run through how I would resign. At soccer practice I worried; at band practice I worried; during music and Spanish and math class I worried.