by Coco Simon
Mom threw down her napkin. “Oh, Katie, I almost forgot! How was the first day of school?”
“It was pretty good,” I said. I told her most of the stuff that happened. I left out the part about Eddie and George, because that was kind of embarrassing. And I didn’t tell her about Callie, because I didn’t want her to get upset. I also left out the part about the missing cupcake, because now I understood why she forgot about it.
“Well, it sounds like you’re off to a good start,” Mom said with a smile, and then her look got serious. “Katie, we still need to talk about the surgery. I’m going to have to stay with Grandma Carole a few days while she’s recovering. Mrs. Rogers is going to stay with you.”
Mom announced it in that fake-happy voice adults use when they are trying to convince you that what they are saying is good when they really know it isn’t. I almost groaned out loud.
Mrs. Rogers is the woman who took care of me when I was a little kid and Mom had to work. She still babysits me sometimes when Mom goes out late, and the annoying thing is that she still treats me like a three-year-old. The last time she was here, she actually checked my toothbrush before I went to bed to make sure I had brushed my teeth. My mom is a dentist! Of course I brushed my teeth!
“Mom, not Mrs. Rogers, please,” I begged. “She treats me like a baby. Can’t I go with you?”
“Absolutely not,” Mom said. “You need to stay in school.”
I bit my lip. “But, Mom, it’s not fair!”
“Katie, I really need your cooperation here,” Mom said, and I could tell I had upset her. “I don’t want to worry about you while I’m taking care of Grandma. So no complaining, okay?”
It was really, really hard not to say anything back, but I kept quiet. I knew Mom was right. I would just have to deal with Mrs. Rogers for a few days. Thank goodness for school.
But I was still feeling kind of bad. Then I remembered something from Ms. Chen’s boring fitness lecture that actually made me feel better.
“Mom, the lights on the high school track stay on until nine,” I said. “Can we go for a run?”
The worried look on Mom’s face relaxed. “Why not? Let’s wait a little bit. It’s not good to go running right after you eat. But I think a run would do us both good.”
So a little while later I changed into my running clothes, and Mom and I went down to the track. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn’t too cold—perfect weather for running. As we ran around and around in circles, I stopped feeling worried and sad and guilty.
It just goes to show you that sometimes it pays to listen to boring lectures in school!
CHAPTER 5
The War Begins
The second day of school was pretty good, especially since it was Friday, and there was a three-day weekend to look forward to. Two days of school, three days of break. Why can’t it be like that year-round?
During lunch I tried not to think about Callie too much, but she and the PGC girls were making this big show of whispering and then looking over at us.
“That is so immature,” Alexis said.
“Totally,” Mia agreed. “It must have really upset them when we beat them last year.”
“We should have another club meeting,” I said. “We need to come up with something really amazing. Tonight we’ll be busy baking for The Special Day.” Our friend Mona had a standing order with us, and we baked for her on Fridays.
“How about tomorrow afternoon?” Alexis suggested. “Mia and I have a soccer game in the morning, but we could do something around two.”
“Sounds good,” Emma said. “I have three dogs to walk in the morning, but I’m free in the afternoon.”
“Hey, maybe I’ll come watch your game,” I said to Mia and Alexis. “I’ll get my mom to drop me off.”
“Then it’s set,” Alexis said. “We can meet at my house. Everyone should come with ideas.”
I felt better knowing that we had a plan in place. I was not about to just sit back and let Callie beat us in a cupcake war!
The rest of the day was pretty good—until English class. Ms. Harmeyer asked everyone to hand in their poems. I had completely forgotten about it!
It is totally not like me to forget to do my homework. I got a sick feeling in my stomach. After class, I ran up to Ms. Harmeyer’s desk.
“Ms. Harmeyer, I forgot to do my poem,” I said. “I was waiting for my mom to help me and then things got . . . I just forgot. Can I do it over the weekend?”
Ms. Harmeyer shook her head. “I’m sorry, Katie. You’re in middle school now, and my homework policy is very strict.”
I felt like crying. “Okay,” I said. “I won’t forget again.”
“I’ll be offering an extra-credit assignment soon,” she said.
I nodded. “Thanks,” I said. “Have a nice weekend.”
Things got much better once school was over. When I got off the bus, Mom was home, and she was cooking a Mexican-style chicken casserole—from scratch. Dinner was delicious, and at the end, Mom told me to close my eyes. When I opened them, she held out a plate with a perfect cupcake on it. The icing was blue, and there was a chocolate-covered graham cracker sticking up on top that looked like a chalkboard. A tiny white piece of candy next to the board looked like a piece of chalk. And Mom had written in icing on the board: “Back to School.”
“I meant to make this for you on your first day, but I forgot,” Mom said, and her eyes were a little teary. “I’m so sorry, Katie. I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.”
“It’s okay.” I got up and gave her a hug. “This is an awesome cupcake! I’ve got to take a picture.”
I took out my cell phone, snapped a photo, and sent it to my friends.
Alexis replied first:
Nice! Good idea for contest maybe.
That reminded me. “Mom, can I go to a Cupcake Club meeting tomorrow? And there’s a soccer game in the morning, too.”
Mom nodded. “Sure. As long as your room is clean.”
I could still close my closet door, so I knew I was okay.
“Yup,” I answered.
The next morning was one of those hot September days that still feels like summer. By the time the soccer game was over, I was dripping with sweat—and I didn’t even play! So I was glad we had our Cupcake Club meeting in Alexis’s nice, air-conditioned kitchen.
When we arrived, Emma and her little brother, Jake, were already there. I happen to think that Jake is adorable, but I know he gets on Emma’s nerves sometimes. Even though she has two older brothers, Emma gets stuck babysitting Jake a lot.
“Katie! Katie! I have a lizard!” Jake yelled, running toward me. He had something bright yellow and wiggly in his hand. For a second I thought it might be real, but when I got closer, I saw it was made of rubber. Still, I pretended to be scared.
“Oh no! A lizard!” I cried. “Is it slimy?”
“He’s not slimy. His name is Charles,” Jake said. “Here, feel him.”
Jake put the rubber lizard in my hand. “He feels nice and smooth,” I said.
Emma looked at me. “Sorry. Mom had to work the Saturday shift at the library.”
“No problem,” I said. I slid into my seat and pulled Jake onto my lap. “Jake can help us design our cupcakes. What kind of cupcakes should we make, Jake?”
“Lizard cupcakes!” he cried.
Mia laughed. “Now that’s a winning idea.”
“We need to get serious, guys,” Alexis said. “We can’t just try to win this fund-raiser. We have to win it big-time.”
“Alexis is right,” Emma agreed. “It would be terrible if the PGC beat us. It could really hurt our business.”
Alexis flipped open her laptop. “I’ll take notes,” she said. “Katie, what do you know about Callie’s baking skills?”
“She’s pretty good,” I admitted. “Her mom and my mom are friends, and they’re the ones who taught me and Callie how to bake. I know Callie’s mom will help her if she asks.”
Alexis
looked thoughtful. “I don’t know about Maggie and Bella, but I’m pretty sure Bella doesn’t bake. Vampires don’t like to eat cupcakes, right?”
“I’ve heard Maggie say that her family goes out to restaurants all the time,” Mia added. “So I bet Maggie doesn’t know how to bake either.”
“That definitely works in our favor,” Alexis said, typing furiously. “We have a whole year of baking experience as a club.”
“Hey, don’t we have to register or something?” I remembered.
“I’ll check the school’s website,” Alexis said, typing some more. After a few clicks, she stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Well, this is interesting.”
I looked over her shoulder. “What?”
“There’s a list of clubs that have entered already,” Alexis said. “See this one? The BFC: the Best Friends Club. Callie Wilson, Maggie Rodriguez, and Bella Kovacs.”
“They changed their name?” I asked.
“I don’t get it,” Alexis said, sitting back. “So what are they declaring? That they are now not popular?”
“Oh who cares?” I asked, suddenly feeling cranky. “I am so sick of them!”
Honestly, it felt like another direct blow from Callie. Like she was saying that Maggie and Bella were her best friends and not me. Which was true. But it felt personal. Like she was rubbing it in.
Alexis ignored my crankiness. “I mean, it makes no sense,” she said. “Aren’t they worried this will hurt their popularity? It seems risky.”
“I don’t know, it’s kind of nice,” Mia said. “When they called themselves the Popular Girls Club, it was obnoxious, right? But there’s nothing obnoxious about being best friends.”
Unless you dump your old best friend to get new ones, I thought. But I didn’t say it.
“Maybe Callie is trying to make the PGC—I mean, the BFC—more friendly,” Emma suggested.
“Whatever,” I said. “Shouldn’t we start planning our cupcakes?”
“Oh, before I forget, is everyone coming to our Labor Day barbecue on Monday?” Emma asked.
“Of course,” Alexis replied.
“Me too,” said Mia.
I cringed. I totally forgot to ask my mom about it. Every year we have this tradition of going to Callie’s house on Labor Day. But being around Callie was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.
Mom will just have to understand, I thought. I want to be with my real friends.
“I still have to ask,” I said. “So, anyway, we were talking about cupcakes. . . .”
“Lizard cupcakes!” Jake said, and everybody laughed.
CHAPTER 6
Think Fast, Katie!
When I got home from the Cupcake meeting, Mom was vacuuming the living room. I figured if I wanted to get out of Callie’s barbecue, it wouldn’t hurt to get on her good side, so I grabbed a broom and started sweeping the kitchen floor. Then I emptied the dishwasher.
“Thank you, Katie,” Mom said, giving me a hug when I was done. “How was your Cupcake meeting?”
“It was good,” I said. “Emma reminded me of something. She invited all of us to her house for a Labor Day barbecue on Monday.”
“Labor Day!” Mom smacked her forehead with her palm. “Things have been so crazy that I never told Barbara if we were coming to the Wilsons’ barbecue or not.” (Barbara is Callie’s mom, and my mom’s best friend.)
“Do we have to go there?” I asked. “I’d rather be with my friends.”
Mom sat down and bit her bottom lip, which she always does when she’s worried or thinking.
“I need to get some shopping done for Grandma Carole’s hospital stay, and I was hoping to cook some food and freeze it, so she won’t have to cook while she’s recovering,” she said. “I suppose I could drop you off at Emma’s while I get things done. I’m sure Barbara will understand.”
“That would be great!” I said. “And I’ll help you cook for Grandma and Grandpa if you want.”
Mom smiled. “That would be fun. We can make a dish for you to bring to the barbecue, too.”
So on Sunday we ended up cooking together, which was fun. I wanted to make an enchilada casserole for Grandma Carole, but Mom thought it might be too spicy for her. So instead we made a big pot of chicken soup. There was enough for us to have for dinner, with grilled cheese sandwiches on the side. Yum!
“We still need to make something for your barbecue,” Mom said. “How about a pasta salad?”
“How about a Mexican pasta salad?” I suggested. (Can you tell yet that I am on a Mexican-food kick?)
“That sounds interesting,” Mom said. “How would you do that?”
I thought about all of my favorite Mexican ingredients that we used in my cooking class. “I could put in black beans and tomatoes, and maybe some shredded cheese and some corn even. And avocados, of course!”
Mom nodded. “That sounds good. And you could put lime juice in the dressing. That could be tasty.”
Because we’ve been cooking a lot of Mexican food, we had everything we needed in the house. Mom helped me cook the pasta—I used one of those squiggly shapes—and then when it cooled down, I mixed everything except the avocados together. I kept adding stuff and tasting it, and it was pretty good. Mom told me to wait to add the avocados until tomorrow, or else they would get brown.
So the next day at noon I was sitting in Mom’s car with the bowl of Mexican pasta salad in my lap. When we pulled up we could already see a bunch of people at Emma’s house. Her two older brothers, Matt and Sam, were playing basketball in the driveway with a couple of their friends.
Both of Emma’s brothers are nice. Matt is one grade above us, and he likes to tease all of us Cupcake Club members a lot. Sam is in high school, and he never teases us like Matt does. And even though they both have blond hair and blue eyes (just like Emma and Jake), I think Sam is cuter.
“I’ll come get you around four,” Mom said, leaning over to give me a kiss. “Have a good time. Call me on my cell if you need me, okay?”
“Sure, Mom,” I said. Then I got out of the car, balancing the bowl as I tried to close the door.
“Think fast, Katie!”
A basketball whizzed past my face, and I looked up to see Matt grinning in the driveway. Sam ran to retrieve the ball as it bounced down the sidewalk.
“My hands are kind of full here!” I told Matt.
“Sorry,” Matt said sheepishly. “I didn’t know.”
Sam ran up to me and tossed the ball to Matt. Then he peered into the plastic wrap–covered bowl.
“What is that?” he asked. “It looks good.”
“It’s, um, Katie’s Mexican Special Salad,” I said. “I just invented it.”
“Well, if you made it, then it must be good,” Sam said, and I could feel my face getting hot.
“I’d better bring it over to your mom,” I said, and then quickly walked away.
I found Emma, Mia, and Alexis in the kitchen.
“Yay! Katie’s here!” Emma said.
I held out the bowl. “I brought a Mexican pasta salad.”
“Thanks,” Emma said. “Let’s bring it outside.”
Emma’s family has a big backyard, which is perfect for them, because they all like to play sports. The Taylors had set up a canopy for the party, and I put my pasta salad on a big picnic table that was covered with a blue flowered tablecloth. There was lots of food on the table already—pickles, green salad, cut-up veggies, potato salad, deviled eggs, and a plain pasta salad. I was glad I had made my pasta salad a little different.
Outside the canopy, Mr. Taylor, Emma’s dad, was grilling chicken. On the grassy lawn beyond, Mrs. Taylor and some other adults were sitting in lawn chairs and talking.
Jake hurried over to us and shoved a Wiffle ball bat into my hands. “Katie, play baseball with me!”
There was no way I could disappoint a cute kid like Jake. Emma, Jake, and I decided to be on one team, and Mia and Alexis were on the other. We didn’t play for real. We mostly just pitch
ed the ball to one another and ran around.
Then all the boys came into the backyard.
“We want food!” Matt yelled.
“Matthew, whatever happened to ‘please’?” called back Mrs. Taylor.
“Please!” Matthew said. “Give me some food!”
Mr. Taylor carried a big platter of barbecued chicken to the table. “No pushing, people. There’s enough for everybody.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “We’d better get over there if we want to eat. When there’s food around, my brothers act like a school of angry piranhas.”
“Don’t call me a piranha!” Jake said. He looked mad.
Emma hugged him. “Not you, Jakey. Those two.”
We walked over to the picnic table, and we could see that Emma was not exaggerating. The boys were piling their plates with humongous mountains of food. Sam was spooning my Mexican pasta salad onto his plate.
“Dude, save some for the rest of us!” Matt complained.
“Maybe,” Sam said. “It’s too good.”
Then Matt punched Sam in the arm, and Sam almost dropped his plate. Luckily, Mrs. Taylor appeared just in time.
“All right, boys, that’s enough,” she said. “We’ve got hot dogs coming up next if you’re still hungry.”
There was still plenty of food left, so the Cupcakers got our plates together and then went to sit on a blanket Emma had spread out for us under one of the trees in her yard. For a minute, I couldn’t help but think of all my past Labor Days, which I spent hanging out with Callie at her house. It was a little weird to be somewhere new, but I had my three best friends with me. And that felt good.
Even better, we didn’t talk about Callie or the BFC or even the fund-raiser. We talked about teachers and that new cooking contest reality show on TV, and Alexis complained about her older sister, Dylan, and Mia complained about her stepbrother, Dan.
“My grandma Carole’s going to have heart surgery,” I blurted out during the conversation. I’m not sure why I said it, but I guess I wanted my friends to know.
“Oh no! Is she going to be okay?” Emma said.
“My mom says she will be,” I answered.
