by Chloe Taylor
“Oh, I know, Zo. I didn’t really think that. I was just so . . . hurt and mad.” Kate bit her lip. “I should probably tell her that, huh?”
“Would you?” Zoey had to hug her again. “That would be so great! Thanks!” she said.
Zoey took a deep breath. It felt so good to patch things up with Kate. Maybe things were finally getting back to normal.
- - - - Chapter 12 - - - -
Mending Friendships
Patches. I still love them. Will always love them. But I have to agree with some comments that came in. You do have to be careful not to go overboard. You really can end up looking like a hobo if you go too crazy with them. That’s why I’d like to thank Fashionsista (again!) for suggesting another excellent way to repair a hole: reweaving! Have you heard of it? I hadn’t until now. It’s where you take threads from the fabric itself and use it to fill the hole so that it basically disappears. It sounds a little tricky, but it’s worth it. They say the fabric is just as strong, if not even stronger, in the end. It’s good to know there are so many ways to fix things that tear, don’t you think? All it takes is a little attention and patience . . . and maybe a needle and some thread.
Not to get too deep or dramatic, but all this talk of mending fabric is making me think of mending fences. I’m going through a friendship emergency! Turns out they’re much harder than fashion emergencies. I’m doing everything I can think of to mend things before it’s too big to fix. But I miss how it was when I was little. All you had to do was give a friendship bracelet to a friend and that was it: friends forever. Will it ever be that easy again?
I drew this dress based on how friendship bracelets are woven. But right now, it still feels like things are in danger of unraveling. I’m working on a peace offering to patch another friendship hole. I sure hope it works.
Oh, and as far as the contest goes, sorry, still nothing to report—just an e-mail basically saying that they’d be in touch “soon.” I wish I knew what “soon” meant. I’ll let you know when I find out!
“Libby!”
Zoey and Kate ran up to Libby together as soon as they saw her get off her bus. She froze, and Zoey watched her face go through a million expressions in a row. Zoey hoped it would stop on something like “pleasantly surprised.” But no. It kept on going until it settled on “gloomily annoyed.”
“Hey!” Kate said as they reached her.
“Yeah?” Libby said stiffly.
Kate put a hand to each shoulder to balance her backpack and took a bracing breath. “I just want to say sorry about that stuff I said about Zoey liking you just for your aunt. It was totally dumb and not true at all . . . . I just said it because I was mad.”
Libby listened, but her face didn’t change much. “What did you have to be mad at?” she asked Kate.
“Well . . .” Kate switched her weight from foot to foot. “I was jealous, I guess.”
“Of me?” Libby looked from Kate to Zoey.
Kate shrugged. “A little bit.”
“We were jealous of each other,” Zoey tried to explain. But making sure Libby knew they liked her for her was the most important thing. “Really, Libby, I liked you—we liked you—way before we knew about your aunt. I had no idea she was a judge when I asked you to model my dress.”
“Well, how about when you made it ombré?” muttered Libby. Her eyes were hard and cold.
“No!” said Zoey. “Of course not! I just liked it . . . really . . . and I thought it would look good! Besides, you didn’t even tell us your aunt was a judge until after the dress was done.”
“It was right there on the website,” said Libby. “You totally could have looked.”
“Well, yeah, I could have, I guess,” said Zoey. “Except that I still don’t know her name. I went back and looked at the list on the website yesterday even, and I didn’t know who she was.”
This seemed to soften Libby a little. But she still looked sore and stung.
“I never told you her name?” she asked softly.
Zoey and Kate both shook their heads.
Kate spoke up. “Seriously, Libby, I’ve known Zoey almost my whole life, and she would never cheat or use a friend. I knew that when I said it . . . and I’m really sorry that I did.”
Kids were rushing past them to get to homeroom before the bell rang. But Libby stood very still. She looked at Zoey and smiled, sighing. “I guess I’m sorry too,” she said. “It’s just . . . at my last school I had this friend—I thought she was my best friend, in fact—but really she just liked me because of my aunt. She actually said she’d stop being my friend if I ever stopped giving her the stuff my aunt sent me . . . .”
“So what’d you do?” asked Zoey.
“I gave it to her,” Libby said. “Until my mom found out and made me stop . . .”
“Then what happened?”
“She stopped being my friend,” said Libby, “just like she said. And then she told everyone else to stop talking to me. And they did.”
“That’s terrible!” said Zoey.
“That’s awful!” Kate declared.
Libby sniffed and nodded. “All I can say is I was glad when we moved,” she said.
“Well, we’re glad too,” said Zoey. “And we’re not like that girl.”
“We’d never do that!” said Kate. “What an unbelievable jerk!”
“We’ll always be here for you,” Zoey told Libby. Then she raised her arm. From her hand dangled a large, crinkly paper shopping bag. “Here. In fact, I want to give something to you.”
“What is it?” Libby asked.
“I made it for you the other night. Before . . . everything,” Zoey said. “It’s a thank-you gift for all your help with the contest.”
Libby took the bag and peeked inside. Zoey could hear her gasp. She started to smile, and as she did, Zoey started to smile as well.
“Oh my gosh,” Libby said.
Inside was the pink, ruffled, “birthday cake dress” that Libby had loved so much as a sketch. It had actually turned out so well, she should have entered it in the contest, Zoey thought.
Zoey leaned forward. “Do you like it as much as you thought you would in real life?” she had to ask.
Libby held the dress up and turned it back and forth, so it twirled, and shook her head.
“No?” Really? Zoey thought to herself. “Oh . . . I’m sor—” she began. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t enter it after all.
“I like it better!” Libby said, hugging it to her. “It’s so me! It’s like the dress I never knew I always wanted.”
“In that case, I’m calling it the ‘Libby dress’ on my blog!” Zoey said, relieved.
“Well, it’s an official Sew Zoey, too,” Libby said, pulling up the collar to see the label. “See?”
“Okay, now I’m really jealous,” Kate said.
Zoey and Libby turned to her, dumbfounded.
“But . . . I thought you didn’t like dresses, Kate.” Zoey gulped.
Kate grinned. “Just kidding! You’re too easy!” She laughed and shook her head.
Zoey laughed nervously, but she also remembered something. “Hey! I do have something for you. And you.” She pointed to Kate and Libby.
“Priti, too?” Kate asked.
“Yep. Can you guys come over after school?” she asked.
Libby nodded, but Kate did not. Instead, she pointed to the cleats tied to her overstuffed backpack.
“After school and after your soccer game?” Zoey corrected herself at once. No way, she knew, could she and her friends miss another one. “We’ll go watch you play first.”
Kate smiled, and it spread to all of them. Zoey’s was bigger than it had been in days.
Her friend patches had worked, she thought. (Though she still had to do her jeans.)
Of all the soccer games to go to, that day’s was not the best. Mapleton lost, 3 to 1, but Kate scored a goal, at least.
Back at Zoey’s house, she led her friends to her bedroom, where she’d sto
wed the box of Cecily Chen’s clothes.
“Are you ready?” she asked as she pulled back the top flaps.
“What is it?” Priti asked.
“Oh . . .” Zoey whisked out a baby-blue boatneck top and waved it before them, like a bull fighter’s cape. “Just a few original samples from Cecily Chen’s new not-even-in-stores-yet tween line!”
They all sat there like mannequins, speechless. Priti finally found her voice.
“Where’d you get them?!” she demanded, leaping to her feet.
“She sent them to me!” Zoey replied.
Priti started to squeal as she peered in the box.
“Oh my gosh! That’s so cool!” Libby cried, jumping up.
“What else is in there?!” Kate asked.
“Show us! Show us!” Priti and Libby both begged.
One by one, Zoey took out every precious garment and passed them out to her friends. To Priti, she gave the lavender miniskirt layered with tulle. To Kate, she gave the sunny yellow jeans and slouchy gray tunic. To Libby, she gave the pink boatneck top with the flutter-sleeves.
“Oh my gosh! It’s so cute!” Libby said as she took it. “Almost as cute as the dress you made!”
“I still have no idea who Cecily Chen is,” Kate declared. “All I know is I love this shirt!”
“We should thank her!” said Priti.
“Great idea!” Zoey agreed. “Let’s do it. Let’s send her an e-mail right now.”
She scooped up her laptop and pulled up her e-mail—and that’s when she noticed the bold, new unread mail in her in-box from the sender Avalon.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“There’s an e-mail here . . . from Avalon Fabrics . . . about the contest,” Zoey said.
“Already? Yippee!” said Libby.
“Well, open it, Zo!” Priti said.
Zoey winced. “I’m afraid to.”
“Why?” Libby asked.
Zoey lowered the top of her laptop with both hands. “What if it says something bad?”
“Oh, Zo! Open it!” Priti told her. “You have to. If you don’t, I will.”
“I’m sure it will be good,” said Kate.
“Me too,” Libby chimed in.
Zoey wasn’t so sure herself, but whatever news she got, maybe it was better to get it now, she thought . . . so she could share it with her friends.
Slowly, she opened the computer again. The other girls crossed their fingers as she did. Zoey scooted the cursor over the Avalon e-mail, then she took a deep breath and clicked.
“Well?” said Priti.
“What does it say?” asked Libby.
“Zo! Tell us!” demanded Kate.
Zoey nodded, but read the message through again first, just to make sure she understood it.
She smiled and looked around at her friends. “I . . . ,” she began.
“Oh my gosh! You won! You won! You won!” Priti cried.
“Yay!” Libby and Kate grabbed each other’s hands and started to dance around the bed.
“Wait!” Zoey raised her hand to try to get their attention. “Hang on,” she said calmly.
“What?” Gradually, they all settled down and turned to her.
“You did win, right?” said Kate.
Zoey shook her head, and all three jaws fell open wide.
“You didn’t?” Priti stuck out her lip.
“Are you serious? Those judges don’t know anything!” Kate said. She glanced at Libby. “No offense.”
“No, you’re right!” Libby said, frowning. “I’m so sorry, Zoey. I’m calling my aunt tonight and telling her what a huge mistake she made. That was such a great dress. I can’t believe it didn’t win.”
“Aw, I’m so sorry,” Priti said, draping her arm around Zoey’s neck.
Zoey leaned against her, but she was still smiling. “Hang on, guys. I didn’t win—but I didn’t lose either. Yet. Listen.” She quickly cleared her throat—“Ah-hem”—and read:
Dear Zoey Webber,
Thank you for participating in Avalon Fabrics’ Break-Out Designer contest. As you can imagine, our esteemed judges have been hard at work reviewing the more than 250 entries received, and we are most pleased, therefore, to inform you that your design has been chosen to advance to the regional round.
“The regional round? What’s that?” said Kate.
“It’s like a semifinal, I guess,” Zoey said. “It says there’ll be a ceremony—Oh, look! Awesome! It’s at A Stitch in Time! And then they’ll announce a regional winner, to move on to the final round.”
“So, that’s good, right?!” said Priti.
“That’s great!” Libby said.
“When’s the ceremony?” Kate asked.
Zoey checked. “Next week!”
“That’s torture!” said Priti.
“Not really,” Zoey said. “Not having you guys as friends was torture. Waiting for this will be a piece of cake.”
- - - - Chapter 13 - - - -
Confetti Confessions
So tonight’s the big night!!!! I’ve been on pins and needles all day! This is what I’ve decided to wear after trying on a million things. I even added glitter to my ballet flats. I’ve really tried not to get my hopes up too high, but that’s always hard for me. If you haven’t noticed, my default attitude is hopeful! Am I jinxing it, do you think, picturing my dress on the racks at H. Cashin’s next spring? Or is that just the kind of positive thinking every crazy dream needs? Don’t worry. You will, of course, be the first to know how tonight turns out. I’d say wish me luck (like I always seem to do), but I’m feeling pretty lucky already, so for once I’m not going to. Why do I feel so lucky? I’m so glad you asked! Because I know that whatever happens, my best friends in the world will be by my side. And you couldn’t get much luckier than that if you tried. I feel like I already won!
“And now the moment we’ve all been waiting for!”
Jan stood at the center of her store, where a podium had been set up. She was wearing her hair particularly high, and her outfit was particularly loud: a shiny, bright-fuchsia silk blouse over a sleek leopard skirt. Jan made everything she wore, and it was all very Jan.
The place was full. There were five finalists, plus their family and friends. There were also dozens of regular A Stitch in Time customers.
Zoey was by far the youngest of the five contestants. The others looked in their twenties, at least. Two were men and two were women, and they all looked equally anxious to see who would be the regional winner. All five contest entries were prominently displayed just inside the front door. Zoey could easily see any one being sold in H. Cashin’s.
She’d found a place to stand by the button racks, not far from the podium, with her friends. It was such a relief to be friends again, and they all showed up to support Zoey. Libby was wearing the “Libby dress” (she would have worn it every day if she could), and Priti and Kate were in Cecily Chen. Zoey’s dad stood behind her in his bright new tie and his goofy but sweet fatherly smile. Marcus had on his usual ensemble—jeans and a T-shirt—and the look of a proud older brother.
“And our regional winner is . . .”
The girls squeezed one another’s hands and tightly closed their eyes.
“Roland Lopez!”
Zoey felt the hands in hers get looser as she somberly raised her head.
“Congratulations, Roland!” Jan said. A man with a big smile on his face glided to the front of the room and shook her hand.
Kate put her arm across Zoey’s shoulders, and Priti put her arm around Zoey’s waist. Libby looked at her and sighed, then took a deep breath and sighed again.
“Oh well,” said Zoey wearily. Of course, she knew it was a long shot, but she still wanted to win. She watched Roland grin as the crowd applauded him and wished she were up there in his place.
“I’m so excited for Roland, aren’t you?” Jan went on, patting his arm. “But you other four, you’re not leaving empty-handed. Don’t you worry. Avalon Fabrics has
some prizes for you!” She picked four envelopes up off the podium and waved them high above her head. “Michelle Winkler, Julie Tse, Alex Nielson, and Zoey Webber, come on up!”
“What do you think it is?” asked Priti.
Zoey shook her head. “I have no idea . . . .”
She was the first to reach Jan, who opened her arms wide and wrapped Zoey in a hug.
“Oh, Zoey! I can’t tell you how proud I am of you! I could have seen you going all the way!” She pressed an envelope into Zoey’s hand and gave her another squeeze. “Have fun with this, missy.”
Zoey made her way back to her friends, with the envelope clutched tightly between her fingers.
“What is it? What’d you get?” they asked her.
“I don’t know,” Zoey said.
“Well, open it!” Priti ordered her.
“Maybe it’s an H. Cashin’s gift card?” Libby guessed.
Zoey lifted the tab of the envelope and pulled out a stiff gray-and-gold certificate.
“It’s a gift certificate for Avalon Fabrics,” Zoey said as she read it. “Five hundred dollars . . . Oh my gosh! That’s a lot!” She raised the card to her lips and kissed it. Mwah! Then she hugged it and beamed at her friends. “Put in your orders now, guys!” she declared. “I’m going on a fabric shopping spree!”
That night, Zoey was feeling pretty good, even though she didn’t win. The icing on the cake was when she checked her blog. A reader named LibbysAuntNYC had posted a comment:
Hi, Zoey! I was one of the judges for Avalon’s contest and wanted you to know that we loved your dress! It was so creative, but just too hard to mass produce, and maybe not quite right for our consumer. All that said, you should be very proud of your work. Keep sewing, Zoey.
Zoey was on cloud nine. Libby’s aunt had gone to the trouble to explain why she didn’t win the contest. It must have been a tough decision. Wow!
She was feeling pretty awesome—almost as awesome as if she had won—and spent the rest of the night thinking about what she would make with five hundred dollars’ worth of fabric. Every so often, she clicked the button to refresh her blog page, so she could read the latest comments from Sew Zoey followers.
