One Smart Cookie

by Kym Brunner

  Teegan’s advice about not letting my mom push me around replays in my head. This is exactly the kind of thing she meant. Time to stand up for myself.

  “First of all, it’s a religious ritual, not a bunch of hogwash. And second, I’m old enough to make my own decisions about who or what to believe—and I believe Busia.”

  “Not if you live in my house you don’t. We are Catholics, not crazy voodoo people.” She sticks out her tongue, waggles her head in a circle, and waves her hands in the air—which I guess is her version of a crazy voodoo person.

  “That’s insane! Busia is the most religious person I know. Why are you so against her praying to the spirits for help anyway? If you’re so convinced that they’re not real, then they can’t hurt you, right? So, why do you care so much?” I sit up, interested in her response. Luckily, I remember to scooch toward the center of the bed, not wanting to be mere inches from her face. Mom’s a spitter when she gets mad.

  But instead of anger, her eyes open wide, as if surprised. “I never said they aren’t real.”

  Now I’m the one who’s surprised. I shrug. “Then what’s the problem?”

  Mom shakes her head, staring at me. She breathes heavily, with pursed lips, like she’s trying to decide if she should tell me something or not. Several seconds pass before she finally sighs deeply, fluffing her hair with her hand. “All I’m saying is that Busia’s spirits ruined my life, and I don’t want her to ruin yours too.”

  My jaw drops. Finally, I’m getting somewhere. “Really? How did she ruin it?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I decided I’m not telling you what happened. Just don’t do a ritual again with her, or you’ll be sorry.” She gets up in a hurry and heads toward the door. “And because you went behind my back when I told you not to, you are grounded for three days. No boys, no friends, no phone.”

  “Three days? You’re crazy! For what? It’s not like I was shoplifting or doing drugs. You can’t ground me just like that without warning me first.” I put my pillow on my lap.

  She stands up. “Yes, I can, and I just did. I told you not to do it, and you did it anyway.”

  “No, you didn’t!” I lie. I mean, it was a few years ago. People like me forget.

  “Yes, I did. And I know you didn’t forget. I see it on your face.”

  I change the expression on my face, blinking my eyes a few times. “Whatever! I already have plans for tonight! A date, Mother.”

  She shrugs, a hint of glee on her face. “Not anymore, you don’t.” She pulls the door closed behind her, and I can hear smug satisfaction in the staccato beat of her heels as she clicks down the hall toward her room. I shriek in anger and reach for my phone off the nightstand so I can ask Teegan for more advice.

  My phone’s gone.

  I punch the bed and lie back on my pillow. There’s no way I’m missing my date with Giovanni tonight, whether she likes it or not. I wait until I hear my mom go downstairs before sneaking off to her bedroom to search for my phone. Surprise! She hid it in her nightstand drawer. I kidnap my phone and call Teegan from inside my closet.

  Teegan and I toss around various strategies for getting around my punishment: One, tell my mother that I refuse to be grounded for listening to my grandmother and boldly walk out the door; two, say I’m going to the library because I have a huge summer reading list that I might as well get started on since I’m grounded; or three, leave music playing and the light on in my room so it seems like I’m in there, but find a way to sneak out.

  Teegan and I finally decide that option number two is best, and if that doesn’t fly, resort to numbers one or three. Mom will be glad I’m not as much of a Dumbelina as she thinks, and when I get home, I’ll rant about getting a puncture hole in the tire. Luckily, some nice old man at the library had a can of Instant Tire Repair in his trunk, wink, wink, which is why I was so late.

  Teegan is brilliant.

  After I hang up with her, I call Giovanni. I ask him to wait for me in the parking lot instead of coming to the door because my mom won’t allow boys into the house when she’s not home. I feel guilty lying to him, but I discover it’s so much easier to lie on the phone than face-to-face. “Do you mind?” I ask, hoping he’ll think it sweet that I abide by the rules.

  “Not at all. Hopefully she won’t be there when I drop you off either.”

  I giggle, back to being smitten. “I think we’ll have to kiss good night in the car.”

  “Okay by me. The movie starts at seven, so I’ll pick you up at six thirty on the dot.”

  “And not a minute earlier,” I warn. “I’m not the early type.”

  “I noticed.” He chuckles. “I’m trying to decide on a restaurant. Do you like Chinese? Or only starving children in Africa?”

  “Chinese children are delicious too. Kidding! I love Chinese food.”

  “I’m starting to worry about you, Sophie,” he jokes. At least I hope he was joking.

  After we hang up, I’m so bored that I’m actually straightening my room when I get a text from Nick. He’s on break and wants to take a walk. Not that I’m complaining, but apparently Dola’s idea of helping me decide which boy is right for me is to make me see them both—a lot. Nick and I walk around the block, talking about how much we hate Darcy. There is a long, non-talking moment underneath a shady tree that heats up the already warm afternoon as well…

  When Nick’s break is nearly over, we head back to Pet World. When we’re three feet from the door, he leans close to my ear. “Just say the word, and I’ll get payback for you.”

  He’s got his hand on the door handle, waiting for my answer. Since we’re too close to prying ears and eyes, I can’t ask for clarification about what exactly he has in mind. I know I shouldn’t say yes, but I can’t help myself. “Definitely. But don’t get caught.”

  “Never.” He disappears inside.

  Chapter 13

  I’M IN THE BATHROOM, already dressed for my movie-dinner date in a pair of medium-dark jeans with stitching on the back pockets and a hot pink tank, my head upside down as I dry my hair. Mom’s legs suddenly appear in my line of vision, and she taps my back repeatedly. “Sophie! Turn that off!”

  I’m irritated but can’t exactly say I’m getting all dolled up for my library visit. Knowing Mom, if she thinks there’s a rich male librarian, she’ll want to come with me so she can show me how to pick him up. “Can’t this wait? I’m almost—”

  “No, it can’t! Come on!” She’s all agitated about something, but what could be so important that she’s got to interrupt my four-minute blow-drying time?

  I turn off the blow dryer, unable to show my annoyance in fear that she’ll change her mind about temporarily letting me off my grounding. If that happened, I’d have to resort to option one on my list of ways to escape—brazenly walking out the door—which could be harmful to my health should she decide to chase after me with a rolling pin. “Yes, Mother? What is it?”

  “A boy is here to see you!” She smiles and rubs her hands together, like she just won a son-in-law on the Date My Daughter reality show.

  My blood pressure escalates when I see it’s only six ten. What the hell? “Giovanni’s here?” I murmur, hoping I’m able to pull off looking shocked. I search my brain for a possible excuse as to why Giovanni stopped by when I’m supposedly heading to the library. My mom might be gullible, but she’s not completely clueless. Well, not always.

  “It’s not Giovanni! It’s a new boy!” She tilts her head, smiling. “And he is Polish! He say to me, ‘Dzien dobry, Pani!’” She leans closer. “And he brought surprise for you! He is so polite. He asked my permission, and I said yes.”

  “What are you talking about? Permission for what?” I open the door a crack and see Nick in my kitchen, his back to me. Suckity, suck! How can this be happening? As much as I’m flattered that he stopped by, I have thirty minutes of beauty time to squash into twenty minutes, and I need every second. I yell, “Be right there!” as sweetly as I can before slamming
the door. The last thing I need is for him to turn around and witness what a beast I am without makeup.

  I whip open my cosmetic drawer and rub, scrub, dab, and squirt things on my face as if someone pressed some hidden, fast-forward button on my back.

  “God works in mysteries,” Mom chirps. “You have no boyfriend for a long time, and now you have two!” You’d think she was dating them, the way she’s going on about them.

  “Chill out, Mom. I just met them.” In a way, though, she’s right. Mysterious indeed.

  “Nicolai is a veerry good-looking boy. And he’s got money, too!” she says.

  “How would you know?” I scrunch up my face in confusion, which makes it very hard to put on eyeliner, so I relax. Was she fooled by his expensive silver watch? Or, God forbid, did she find a sneaky way get him to pull out his wallet? God, please not that. Whatever. I can’t sort it out now. It’s safe to assume that he does have some money, given all the hours he works. But whether it’s from his steely determination to do well, or his gritty determination to steal, I’m not so sure.

  I slick on lip gloss and whip open the bathroom door around six eighteen, looking presentable but not Date Night special. I’ll have to come back and do a touch up and straighten my hair as soon as I find out what Nick wants and politely get rid of him before Giovanni shows up. I can’t believe I’m in this predicament.

  I hurry down the hall toward the kitchen when I hear a soft meow. At least that’s what I thought it sounded like. Three more steps, and I have my answer. Nick whirls around, grinning like a little kid, and there, in his hands, is the white fluffy kitten I fell in love with at Pet World. My mouth drops opens in stupefying delight. “Ohmigod! I love this kitten!”

  He smiles and holds the kitten out to me. “Surprise! He’s all yours, Sophie.”

  I lunge for the kitten and scoop him up, holding it to my chest. “Really? I don’t believe it! Thank you so much!” I immediately shower the kitten’s teeny face with kisses. I’d kiss Nick, too, but with Busia and Mom standing a foot away, I opt to give him a gracious one-armed hug.

  I’m completely smitten, both with my new kitten and with Nick. “He’s so cute! I can’t believe you spent two hundred dollars on him!”

  “Two hundred dollars?” my mom coos, her eyes wide. “You must work very hard to save that much money, eh?” She gazes at Nick like he’s sprouted branches with dollar bills hanging all over him before she turns toward Busia.

  Busia smiles and nods enthusiastically. “Me like ’em cats.”

  I chuckle. Busia doesn’t like much outside of God and helping run the bakery, so Nick is assured of a spot in her heart permanently. Or at least the cat is.

  “Yeah, I work a lot of hours. Too bad Sophie didn’t—” Nick glances at me. I discreetly shake my head no, not wanting him to spill the news about being fired today. He smiles, finishing off his sentence with “—work the same hours as me.”

  “Sophie never told me a cute boy worked with her!” My mother waves her hand in the air, before launching into what seems like a five-hundred-page novel.

  In Polish.

  Busia clucks her tongue. “Irena! Not good.”

  I start to sweat. Mom must be explaining how the priest told me to stop trying to look under his vestments during Easter Mass when I was three. Or maybe how in fifth grade, I fell off a pogo stick trying to get to my lollipop that was on the glass patio table. I broke my arm and the table. “No more stories, Mom, okay?” I touch her arm and glare at her.

  “Jeden minuta. One minute.” I hear my name and the word piekarnia, which is bakery.

  “Mom!” I say, furiously stroking the kitten. The fur sticks to my sweaty fingers, which means my armpits are also sweating. So much for looking good for Giovanni. I’ve got on minimal makeup, my hair is frizzed out like a ballerina’s tutu, and I probably have big sweat circles under my arms. Great.

  Nick says, “Uh-huh,” every now and then, shifting his weight to his other foot and leaning his elbow on our kitchen counter. The longer my mother talks, the more he glances at me. I beg God to plague her mouth with locusts or frogs to stop her before Nick runs out of here screaming. And why wouldn’t he? This scene has become my own private horror movie.

  I glance up at the clock. Six twenty-five! Holy shit! I’ve got exactly five minutes to wrap up this whole kitten-caboodle thing, politely get rid of Nick, and get swept off to the movies with my other hottie.

  “Well, Nick, it’s been fun!” I say, interrupting my mom. The kitten meows and scratches my neck. “Ouch!” I hold his paws a bit tighter so he can’t scratch me again. “I have to think of a name for you, you little stinker.” I look at the kitten. “Are you a Cotton? Maybe Snow?” My eyes widen as I come up with a great name. “I got one—Snickers! It has your name hidden inside of his, Nick. Get it Snick…Nick?”

  Nick grins at me, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Cool. I like it.” He reaches over and pets the kitten’s back. “Hi, Snickers.”

  I smile on the outside, but my insides are desperately trying to transform this slow boat to China into a high-speed bullet train. “Well, anyway, Nick, this was so awesome of you to do this for me, but, unfortunately, you kind of caught me at a bad time, so…” I’m standing halfway between the stairs and the blank stares of my mother, hoping Nick gets the hint.

  He does, because his expression darkens for a split-second, registering disappointment. But he quickly recovers and smiles. “Oh, yeah. No problem.” He turns to my mom and Busia. “It was nice meeting you both. Do widzenia!” He holds up a hand to wave good-bye.

  My mother’s mouth drops open. “Where are your manners, Sophie? Nicolai brings you an expensive gift, and you make him go home already?” She loops her arm through his as if she’s going to pull him with her into the living room. “Can’t you stay and talk with us for a while? That’s how us Polish people treat our guests, right?”

  Oh. My. Fricking. Mother. “Nick has other plans, Mom.” My adrenaline hits the panic button as I glance at the clock. Three minutes until Gio Time.

  Nick smiles, his feet planted. “Yep, I have to be home for dinner. Bye now.”

  The kitten attempts to scale my body as if he were Spiderman, slashing my neck and shoulder in the process. “Geez!” I gently pry my skin from underneath the kitten’s sharp claws. “I gotta go now, so can you watch Snickers while I’m gone, Mom?” I quickly hand him off to my mother so she’ll let go of Nick’s arm.

  Mom nuzzles her cheek with Snickers’ and murmurs, “Such a cute little pussy.”

  I slam the counter with my hand. “Never say that again.” Gently tugging on Nick’s sleeve, I pull him out of my mom’s reach. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

  Mom hugs the kitten close to her chest. “Are you sure, Nicolai? Sophie can go to the library another day.” Mom says something to Busia in Polish, and I glean the word kolaczkis out of the sentences. Busia nods and enthusiastically waddles to the counter and picks up the plate of freshly baked peach cookies that are covered in plastic wrap.

  “You’re going to the library?” Nick asks, as if he misheard.

  “I like to read.” I smile, feeling awkward. “I need to get the latest Cosmo.”

  Busia pulls back the plastic and offers the plate to Nick, smiling and nodding. “You like ’em perch?”

  “Sure, but I…” Nick shoots me a look of confusion, like he’s not sure what to do, whom to please. I glance at the clock. Six twenty-eight. Tick-tock. Time to go. I’m doing everything I can to pull his arm and run down the stairs with him.

  Nick plucks two cookies off the plate, but he doesn’t take a bite. Bet he’s worried about Busia’s flavor faux pas. “Dzienkuje, pani. I’ll eat these on the way home.”

  Busia nods and shuffles off toward the stove. “I give rest to Domovoy. Him hungry.”

  My mother has a strained look on her face due to Busia divulging a family secret that needs to stay hidden under the stove. Mom recovers quickly, fluffing her hair. “Okay, the
n! Bye now, Nicolai! I hope you’ll be calling Sophie to go out soon. Anytime is okay with me!”

  “Mom, I think your favorite TV show is on. In your room?” One of Busia’s trademark ginormous loaves of banana-zucchini bread sits on the counter just inches from me. I mentally pluck it with three fingers and bowl it at my mom, sending her rolling down the hall to her bedroom.

  I glance at the clock. Ring-a-ling! Six thirty on the dot. I turn on my heels, practically sprinting for the stairs, pulling Nick behind me. “Later!”

  When we’re in the stairwell, Nick chuckles. “I think your mom and Busia might ask me to marry you.”

  I laugh out loud. “You’d better watch out.” I wait to speak again until we both get down to the landing, since it’s nearly impossible to talk over the loud clomping of feet on wooden stairs. “From her perspective, you’re cute, Polish, and you have money. What else do I need?”

  We head through the shadowy back room, some late afternoon light coming in through the small window in the back door. I stop suddenly as I walk halfway through the doorway into the bakery, realizing I cannot possibly let Nick out through the front door—not with Giovanni sitting in his car out there waiting for me. I have to let him out through the alley, but what explanation could I possibly give him as to why?

  Nick bumps into me from behind. He slides his hands on my waist and spins me around to face him, pushing me against the bakery counter. “I know something else you need,” he says in a sexy voice, pulling me close. As amazing a kisser as he is, I’m much too freaked out to get into it. But he’ll get suspicious if I boot him out too quickly…all so I can get to the library?

  I give him one quick kiss and turn my head slightly. “Sorry, but I really need to go. I’m meeting my friend Teegan there.” I strain my neck to see if Gio is in the parking lot, but Nick’s head is blocking my view. I manage to see a few cars but, thankfully, no Purple Hazel.