Hailey Joanne shook her head, giving me the saddest eyes that ever crossed the Atlantic. “Ooh la la, mon petit chou! C’est dommage!”
I sighed. “Either speak English or add subtitles to your phone, Marie Antoinette.”
Hailey Joanne dabbed a linen napkin at the corners of her mouth. “What I’m trying to say is, you’ve mucked up your life once again. Something great happened. You’ve been cast in a play and you’re going to New York, but because you have this phobia about being direct and letting someone get mad at you, you’ve made a disaster out of what should have been a triumph!”
I grimaced. “Wow. That was like a punch in the gut.”
“Good. You deserve it. Now get off the phone with me, call Isabelle, drop the malware, and leave it to her to get over it. You’ve got a lot of planning and packing to do. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Good news to go along with the bitter pill you have to swallow.”
She grinned at me, took another bite of her croissant and chewed uber slowly. I was about to burst waiting. I needed good news right now! “What good news?” I shouted, “Hurry up and tell me before I digitize, travel through the Internet to Paris, find you, and make you choke on that chocolate croissant!”
Hailey Joanne giggled. “Okay, okay. I was dragging it out on purpose because the news is that good. Mother and I are coming to New York in a few weeks, and I should be able to see you in the play.”
“Shut up!”
“Shut me up!”
“OMGZ, that’s great! Why are you coming to New York?”
“To see you, of course. That and mother and I have fittings for the wedding.”
“Wedding? Whose wedding? Not yours?”
“Of course not mine. You stole the only guy I would ever marry, remember?”
“I never did no such thing!”
“I’m just kidding!”
A part of me wasn’t sure how much of what she said was kidding. You know, every joke had a little, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy grain of truth in it. And TJ, the boy she had been crushing on in school, did like me instead of her. But it wasn’t something I had planned. It had just turned out that way. And anywho, TJ and I weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, just friend-friends. At least, I was trying very hard to convince myself that we were only friend-friends. I didn’t know what to say, so to fill the space, I said, “Hailey Joanne Pinkey!”
And she said, “Mango Delight Fuller, I was just kidding. Goofing. Relax, mon amie! My parents are renewing their vows, that’s what the wedding is about. Didn’t your dad tell you? He’s doing the catering.”
“He is?”
“Trust and believe, my parents wouldn’t use anyone else. But the important thing is, we’ll be in New York together. Très fantastique, n’est ce pas?”
“Yes, it’s fantastic and uber crisp!” I guessed I was getting the hang of French through osmosis. We disconnected, promising to meet up in New York and spend lots of time together.
In spite of all my worries, I fell asleep just before the sun came up. I didn’t leave my bed until almost noon. Dada was on a phone call when I stumbled into the kitchen on my way to the bathroom. When I came out, bladder empty, face splashed, and teeth brushed, he was wrapping up his phone call. “Okay, great. It’s a deal. Thanks so much. Peace.”
I was about to ask him about catering the Pinkeys’ vow-renewal, but I was sidetracked by the way he was beaming at me. I knew Dada was up to something. He called out to Mom, “Hey Margie, it’s all set!”
Mom hurried into the room with Jasper toddling behind her. “Really? I can’t believe it. On such short notice?”
“Toldja I’d get it done.”
I was kind of tired of feeling like I’d walked in on the middle of a sitcom. “What’s going on? What got done? What’s all set? What?!”
Dada grinned. “Your mom and I are throwing you a bon voyage party at the community center tomorrow evening!”
Mom chimed in, “You can invite all of your friends from the play.”
“No! No-no-no-no!” A party was the last thing I wanted, especially when I had to tell all my friends the bad news that they weren’t going to New York, too.
Mom’s fists went to her hips. “What do you mean, no? We thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy? I’m not happy. I don’t want a party!”
Dada crinkled his eyes. “But I’ve already arranged it with the community center. We can’t back out now. I’ve drawn up a menu and everything.”
“That’s right, Mango. So give me a list of all your castmates’ email addresses so I can get the invitations out ASAP.”
“But you didn’t ask me if I wanted a party!”
Mom threw her hands up in the air. “Who in their right mind doesn’t want a party? Everybody wants a party!”
Before I could answer her, there was a knock at the door and Mom went to answer it. I was about to plead my case to Dada about canceling the party, until I heard . . .
“Oh, hello, Isabelle. Come on in.”
Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, things had a way of proving you wrong. Very wrong.
I got dressed and took Izzy to the park to break the news to her, because I didn’t want to add to her humiliation by having her break down and cry in front of my parents. But Izzy didn’t cry. In fact, she hardly reacted at all. As I reached across the bench to touch her hand and console her, she stood up and smiled. It was a real hard and painful smile, the smile of someone who had never learned how. Sort of like if Professor Snape ever tried to smile.
“Don’t worry about it, Mango. I’m a big girl. I’ll just let the gang know we’re not wanted. It’s no biggie. Besides, my cousin Carmella from Texas wants to come visit me this summer, and I haven’t seen her since I was five. We were so tight back then! Anyway, now I won’t have to disappoint her by not being here. All’s well that ends well, huh? Have fun in New York. See ya.”
With that, she turned and hurried out of the park. I wanted to go after her, but then again . . . the Snape face kept me right where I was, wondering what was wrong with me. How did I make such a mess of our friendship so fast? Why was I always so afraid of causing trouble that I wound up in an avalanche of trouble?
I thought back to what Hailey Joanne had said. She was right about me. I had to learn to be more direct and in order to do that, I had to become a stronger, less fearful Mango. But right now, I had a lot of planning and packing to do. And more importantly, I had to put a stop to the party.
I got up from the park bench and headed home, but I was too late. Mom had found my contact list and emailed invitations to all the cast and crew. There was no turning back now. All I could do was get ready to be the guest of honor at a party filled with smiling Snapes.
I didn’t think things could get worse . . . but they did.
CHAPTER SIX
It’s My Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To
BON VOYAGE! Those were the words on the multicolored sign hanging above the door of the community center party room. Dada had called in a favor from his friend at the printer that had made business cards for his catering company, Delicious Delight. He used my middle name, Delight, in his company name, because he believed that if it weren’t for me and the situation with Brooklyn, which led to her dad firing him from his restaurant, he wouldn’t be in business for himself—and doing very well, by the way.
BOO-LOOP.
There it went–the alert on my phone whenever I got a text. Dreading another cancellation, I tapped on the message icon, and read:
Yeah, right. Have a nice trip. This cancelation text didn’t even make up a lame excuse, like the twenty-nine other texts from my other “friends.” As excuses went, there were some pretty spectacular ones, like:
Seriously, “pedicure emergency?” Did his toenails grow twelve inches overnight or something? I couldn’t believe all my friends from the play would turn on me like this. Especially since I didn’t mean to make such a mess of things. But the te
xts had been coming nonstop since six o’clock. My party was supposed to start at seven, and now it was almost eight o’clock and I was slumped in a folding chair, glaring at the happy, optimistic banner that I wanted to rip down and tear to shreds.
Dada and Mom were standing across the room, trying not to look at me, their friendless daughter, with pity. It really sucked, because I knew they’d spent seventy-five dollars to rent the space and about two hundred on food and drinks. Dada had been up all night making five different kinds of pizza bites, veggie and curried beef patties, coconut shrimp, and gallons of his famous blueberry soda. It was all laid out across the room, getting cold and congealed, because the guest of honor, the daughter they were so proud of, was officially the most unpopular girl in town.
To think that just a little over a month earlier, I had been the star of the school play and the most popular girl at Trueheart. The school blog had done an interview with me that got more hits than any other post the whole year, and a local newspaper even did a review of the show and called me “the next Beyoncé!” My idol! As far as I was concerned, there was no greater compliment possible.
My friends, the dramanerds—that’s what they called us theater kids behind our backs at school, but we owned it and liked it—had started calling me “Baby Bey,” and the name caught on all over the school. At the end of the year, I was invited to graduation parties for ninth graders! Seriously, that was like so totally four-leaf clover rare for a seventh grader like me to be invited. And it was all because of the play.
BOO-LOOP.
I checked my phone
That was just weak! Hurt feelings were welling up behind my eyes. Luckily, I was saved from a blubbering fest by my little brother, Jasper, who toddled up to me and bopped to the beat of the songs on my summer playlist. It was a mix of pop, hip-hop, R&B, and alternative rock. I got into alt-rock because of TJ. We became really close while rehearsing and performing. He was Romeo and I was Juliet, and I guess the feelings from the show kind of blurred over into real life for a little while. Especially since we had to kiss in the play.
Anywho, he was in an alt-rock band called the Halfrican Americans (because all the members were of mixed race), and he had turned me on to so much cool music that I had never really given a chance before. It was all I’d been listening to this summer. Izzy swore I was only into alt-rock because I missed TJ, but that was not true. He was a friend-friend, not a boyfriend. Someone I used to like-like, but didn’t anymore. NOT my boyfriend at all. I hadn’t had one of those yet, and with the way this party was turning out, it seemed like I never would.
Oh man, I knew this was going to be the talk of the summer. The party no one came to. Even though I was worried about leaving town and missing my friends and family, right at that moment I couldn’t wait to get on that plane in the morning. I wouldn’t have to show my shame face around town, and maybe when I got back everyone would have forgotten how and why they all shunned me.
Jasper was getting down right in front of me doing something that could be called breakdancing. He’d learned it from all those times Dada tried to relive his glory days, spinning on his head on the kitchen linoleum. Jasper’s moves were hysterical, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Mom and Dada clapped and chanted, “Go Jasper! Go Jasper! Go Jasper!”
I joined in. We all moved toward the center of the dance floor, where Jasper was really cutting loose. Dada took my hand and spun me around. I was laughing even harder now. Mom and Jasper paired off, so Dada and I got our own groove going, and for a few blissful moments, I forgot all about being an outcast and surrendered to the beats that filled the dance floor.
When the song ended, Dada hugged me and I noticed someone standing at the door, smiling. It was TJ! I didn’t think he would be here. The Halfrican Americans had a gig out of town that weekend, an actual legitimate excuse I had known about before Mom hijacked my contact list and emailed invitations.
It was so coincidental that one of his band’s songs came on while he was standing at the door—“Shallow Skin,” one of my favorites. It was about fitting in with people who were on the other side of popular and being happy about it. We walked toward each other across the dance floor.
“What are you doing here? What happened to your gig?” I asked.
“Long story. All I’ll say is the check bounced, and so did we.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I gave him a hug.
“It’s cool,” he said “I’m glad, ’cause I got to come here.” He looked around the room and asked, “Am I early? Where is everybody?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, but I didn’t know what to say. The truth was way too painful. And now, at the most inconvenient of inconvenient times, all the feelings that had been piling up behind my eyeballs pushed their way free, and I became a blubbering mess, crying into TJ’s shoulder.
By the time TJ’s song had finished playing, I had stopped crying. We went outside. The evening air was humid, but there was a bit of a breeze. Sitting on the low wall outside the community center, I spilled my tale of misery and woe. When I finally got the guts to look at TJ to see if he was mad like the rest of the cast, I saw his kiwi green eyes were flashing with anger.
“That’s so not cool. So not fair.”
“What’s not fair? That the whole cast isn’t going?”
“No! That they’re all blaming you. What could you do about it? I mean, it’s not a school play anymore. It wouldn’t be realistic to have kids playing our agents or our parents or any of the other roles.” He stood up. “I’ll be right back. Meet you inside.” He walked off, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans.
I was happy TJ was on my side, but where was he going? Now, once again, no one was at my party except my parents and baby brother, who was still bopping away when I stepped back into the party room.
My phone BOO-LOOPED, but I refused to look at it. I didn’t need, want, or care to see another lame excuse about why no one could come to my going-away party. My phone BOO-LOOPED again. And again. I asked Mom if I could put it in her purse until we got home. Every BOO-LOOP hurled me farther down into a pit of depression. And that text notification was beginning to wear on my nerves—I’d have to change it sooner rather than later.
I walked by the table, avoiding Dada’s eyes. He was pretending to look upbeat, but there was a sadness underneath that he couldn’t hide. I grabbed a mini-pizza, shoved it in my mouth, walked to the other side of the room, and sat in one of the empty folding chairs. Then I turned toward the wall, refusing to look at the streamers that were beginning to droop.
Was I really being selfish for going to New York without the rest of the cast? I was so excited about the possibility of going when Bob first offered me the chance that I had completely forgotten about Izzy and her tres leches. If that wasn’t being selfish, what was? Izzy and I had been having so much fun hanging out together the first week of summer vacation. Also, if I weren’t around to hang with Izzy, how would Jasper get his Izzy fix? He would probably spend his days pining for his super crush, carrying her photo, and mourning the loss of his first love. Having his heart broken at such a young age could scar Jasper for life!
I was beginning to change my mind about New York when TJ returned. He walked straight up to me and said, “Hey, I’m sorry for walking away like that. But what you told me really ticked me off, and sometimes I just need to, you know, walk it off before I get super Hulkish.”
“I didn’t know you had a temper.”
“Everybody has one if they’re pushed far enough.”
“I guess . . .”
“Listen, you should be mad too, instead of blaming yourself. I mean, look at all the trouble your family went through to set this party up! And now just because you’re taking advantage of an opportunity that most of them would give their right frontal lobe for, you’re being treated like a piranha.”
I couldn’t help myself; I started to giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“You said I was being treated lik
e a piranha.”
“Right. Like they’re shunning you or something.”
“I think you meant pariah. A piranha is a fish. The kind of fish that eat flesh and stuff. A pariah is a person who is shunned.”
I think I actually saw pink flush in TJ’s cheeks. He turned away quickly, then turned back, and we both burst out laughing. Jasper toddled over and started laughing too, which made all of us laugh even harder.
“Mango!” Dada called out.
“Yes?” I turned to him, wiping away my tears of laughter.
Dada pointed to the door, and there stood Boss Chloe, the stage manager of Yo, Romeo! A bunch of other kids from the show were there, too. I went from shunned to stunned in one second flat!
Boss Chloe strode over to me, followed by everyone else. “Hey . . . uh . . . sorry about not showing up before. That was straight up rude-ology.”
“Yeah,” said Hiram, the boy who had played my father in the play. “I’m two months younger than you. No one would believe I was your father in the play for real.”
Boss Chloe gave TJ a playful but powerful shove. “Thanks for shame-texting us. You really made me see things from Mango’s side.”
I looked at TJ, who was rubbing his chest. “Shame-text?”
“Yeah, when I walked away from you before, I sent a group text to everyone setting things straight. Didn’t you read it?”
“No . . . I put my phone away, because I thought I was getting more excuse texts!”
Hiram said, “I sent you a text saying sorry, I didn’t need a pedicure after all, and I was on my way.”
I laughed and noticed more kids from the show coming in the door. I couldn’t believe it. Dada started passing around trays of food, and before I knew it, we were all eating and dancing, and it was a real party. I was having the greatest time ever, except for one little thing. Izzy wasn’t there.
Summer in the City Page 4
