by Chloe Taylor
“Oh. Yeah. I didn’t even think about that,” Zoey said.
“What I did last year was sketch out a design of how I thought I wanted my booth to look, and that made it easier to figure out how big it should be,” Allie said. “Like, first figure out what you think you’re going to want to sell there, then how you’d display it to attract customers.”
Zoey pulled out her sketchbook and pencils from her backpack. She had to determine which pieces she wanted to sell. She didn’t want to choose too many items, because she’d have to make each one in a range of sizes.
Allie was busy filling in her application, but Zoey picked out a few design sketches to show her.
“What do you think of these for the gift fair?”
“I like the short-sleeve sweatshirt and the skirt,” Allie said. “Also, that dress is cute.”
“I picked things that are pretty easy to make,” Zoey said.
“Smart,” Allie said. “If you want, I can help you figure out what size booth you need. But don’t forget, you have to rent the display racks and tables and stuff, too.”
It wasn’t just more complicated than Zoey thought. It was starting to sound more expensive, too. Zoey worried as she started working on the layout of her display.
When she had the basic idea down on paper, she showed it to Allie.
“That looks good,” Allie said. “Okay, every booth has a table, but you’ll need racks and something to display a sign—maybe a stand? And some of the shelves and clothing rods that hook onto the walls of the booth—I’d get some extra of those since you have clothes. . . .”
Allie went down the list of display items and insisted that Zoey order a variety of options.
“But it’s going to add up to so much money!” Zoey complained. “What if I don’t make it back?”
“I’m pretty sure you will,” Allie said. “It’s a really popular market. And in any event, it’ll give you really good exposure for your stuff. But if you skimp on materials and people can’t see your pieces, they won’t sell. Trust me. It’s worth it.”
“I guess,” Zoey said, but she still worried about the cost.
Allie helped her figure out the expenses for the order form. Zoey swallowed, hard, when she saw the total. It was even more than she’d thought it would be.
“Now, all you have left to do is take pictures of the products and figure out the pricing,” Allie said. “The gift fair organizers want to make sure that the vendors fit in with their aesthetic, and also that they have gifts available at different price ranges, so that everyone who comes can find something they can afford.”
“Okay,” Zoey said. “I’ll get Marcus to take the pictures when I get home, and with Dad’s and Aunt Lulu’s help, I’ll decide on prices.”
“Make sure you mail it tomorrow,” Allie warned her. “The deadline is Friday.”
“I will,” Zoey promised.
“One other thing: They don’t give you a lot of time between when they tell you you’re accepted and when the gift fair opens. Last year, I had to scramble to get all my stuff made on time,” Allie said, “so I’d start making stuff even before you find out if you’re accepted. Especially since I’m sure you will be, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Zoey said.
Zoey was still excited about the gift fair idea—but after Allie dropped her back at the house, Zoey stared at the total cost again. It was a lot of money to lay out for the booth and display supplies rental. Zoey figured maybe Allie was being a little overly cautious by suggesting that she order so many supplies. Zoey crossed out a few things here and there and recalculated the total. It seemed more manageable, although the number still made her gulp.
Marcus was in his room, listening to music while he did his homework. Luckily, the music seemed more upbeat than it had been since Allie had broken up with him. Maybe he really was moving on. Zoey knocked on his door and walked in.
“Hey, Marcus—can you take pictures of some of my pieces on Marie Antoinette?” Zoey asked, referring to her headless dressmaker’s dummy. “I’m applying for a booth at a gift fair, and they want to see my work.”
“Sure,” her brother said. He got up and grabbed his camera. “So you decided to do it?”
“Well, I’m applying,” Zoey said as they walked into her room. “Allie seems pretty sure I’ll get in, which means I need to start making stuff right away.”
Marcus laughed as he set up the shot to take a picture of a T-shirt on Marie Antoinette. “You mean you’re not going to be in a crazy last-minute Zoey panic like you usually are?”
“No, I’m trying to break the habit,” Zoey said. “I’m going to start tonight and try to make a few pieces every day, so I don’t have to do a marathon sewing session right before the fair.”
“Good plan,” Marcus said. “Okay, what’s next?”
Zoey took the T-shirt off the dummy and slid a simple shift dress over her dress form.
“I’ve chosen my most versatile and flattering pieces,” she said. “And new ones that are easy to sew, because I’m going to have to make them all in small, medium, and large sizes.”
“I hate to ask, but what happens if you don’t get chosen and you’ve made all the sizes?” Marcus asked, taking a picture of the dress.
“I’m going to think positively,” Zoey said. “And if worst comes to worst, I can always try to sell them online on my Etsy store, right?”
“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Marcus said.
“I sure hope so!” Zoey said.
After putting the application in the mailbox, there wasn’t much else Zoey could do—other than get started making clothes—while she waited to see if she’d been accepted. But she gave herself a break from sewing for the rest of the day. She had something—or rather, someone—else on her mind.
“So how is your friend Ezra Marks from Hebrew school?” she asked Libby as casually as she could at the school the next day.
“Fine,” Libby said. She smiled. “Funny, he asked me how you were doing, too.”
“He did?” Zoey exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me that!”
“You didn’t tell me either,” Priti grumbled. “That’s important news, Libby!”
“Okay, okay! Sorry!” Libby said. “He said he really enjoyed hanging out with you at the Bat Mitzvah.”
“I really enjoyed hanging out with him, too,” Zoey admitted. “He’s nice—and cute, too.”
“He does seem fun,” Kate said. “But not my type.”
“I just had an idea!” Libby said. “I’ll invite a bunch of people over to my house on Saturday—and one of those people can just happen to be Ezra!”
“Won’t that look too obvious?” Zoey asked, even though she was excited about the thought of seeing Ezra again.
“Why would it look obvious?” Kate said. “As long as Ezra’s not the only one Libby invites from her Hebrew school.”
“Which he won’t be,” Libby said.
“Perfect!” Priti exclaimed. “Let Operation Cupid commence!”
Zoey alternated between being nervous and excited for the rest of the week. Luckily, she was trying to keep to her self-imposed schedule for making gift fair items, and that kept her from constantly dwelling on the get-together at Libby’s. But still . . . She had to figure out what to wear.
She ended up being late leaving for Libby’s house, because she tried on five different outfits and the same amount of hairstyles before finally deciding on a braided bun, and a cropped hot-pink sweater with bobbles on it, layered over a tank top. She was also wearing patterned jeans she’d bought with her aunt Lulu at a consignment shop.
“How do I look?” she asked her dad when she got into the car, where he’d been waiting patiently while Zoey did a last-minute change of her shoes.
“Cute!” Dad said. “I like whatever you did with your hair.”
He pulled out of the driveway.
“Do I look cute . . . or pretty?” Zoey asked.
Mr. Webber looked at her, bemu
sed. “Why do I have this awful feeling that whatever answer I give you is going to be the wrong one?” he said. “Both?”
Zoey sighed.
“I just want to look good tonight,” she said.
“You always look great, Zo,” Dad said.
“You have to say that. You’re my dad.”
“But I mean it,” her father said. “I’m not just saying it because I’m your dad.” He glanced over at her. “Is there any special reason you want to look nice?”
Zoey blushed. “No reason,” she said, looking out the window.
Dad chuckled. “No reason you want to share with your dad, at least,” he said.
“Can we stop talking about this?” Zoey said.
“Sure!” Dad said. “So, how about that ball game this afternoon?”
When they got to Libby’s house, Zoey rang the doorbell and then waved good-bye to her dad.
“Ezra’s here,” Libby told Zoey in a low voice when she answered the door. “And he asked if you’d arrived yet.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Zoey whispered. “I had a major case of fashion indecisiveness!”
“I love what you came up with!” Libby said. “Come on, join the party.”
Everyone was hanging out in the family room, which was the biggest room in the house. Priti and Kate were playing a dance video game with some of Libby’s Hebrew school friends they’d met at the Bat Mitzvah. Zoey saw Ezra sitting on the sofa, looking at his phone, but he looked up and smiled as soon as he noticed her standing there.
“Hey, Zoey, how’s it going?” he called out. “Making lots of new clothes?”
“I am,” Zoey said. She walked to the sofa, and Ezra moved over to make room for her to sit next to him. “I’m applying for a booth at the Mapleton Gift Fair. I’m busy making pieces I plan to sell, if I get chosen, that is.”
“That’s really cool,” Ezra said. “Good luck. It must be hard to wait for them to decide.”
“I’ve been trying not to think about it too much,” Zoey confessed.
“I’m sure they’ll choose you,” Ezra said. “I checked out your blog. Your designs are really good.”
Ezra checked out my blog? Zoey thought.
“I didn’t think a fashion blog would be up your alley,” she joked.
Zoey could have sworn Ezra’s cheeks were red when she saw him pick at a nonexistent thread on his jeans.
“I guess . . . I was curious. I thought it was cool that you make clothes,” he admitted.
Now, Zoey felt her own cheeks starting to flush.
“I really liked your sketches, too,” Ezra continued. “I draw—and paint.”
“You do?” Zoey asked. “What kind of paintings?”
“Different things—landscapes. A few still lifes. Some abstracts. I’m still finding my style.”
He pulled out his phone and showed her a photo. “Here’s one of my latest landscapes.”
Ezra has a great eye for color, Zoey thought.
“Wow, that’s really good,” she said.
“Do you think so?” Ezra asked. “You’re not just saying that?”
Zoey chuckled, because he sounded just like she did when she was asking her dad how she looked on the way to Libby’s house.
“No, I’m not,” she said. “I promise.”
Ezra smiled, and Zoey thought he looked even cuter, if that were possible.
“I was thinking . . . ,” he said. “My parents are taking me to the state fair next weekend. Do you . . . maybe . . . want to come with me? Well, with us, since it’s my whole family going.”
Zoey wanted to get up and dance. Ezra was asking her out on a date!
But instead, she stayed sitting on the couch, and said, “Sure! Well, as long as my dad says it’s okay.”
“Great!” Ezra exclaimed. “It should be fun.”
They smiled at each other, and then Ezra said, “So, do you want to challenge Priti and Kate in a dance-off? They seem like the reigning champs.”
“They’re good, but I bet we can beat them,” Zoey said.
Ezra stood up and held out his hand to Zoey.
“Come on, Zoey. Let’s dance!”
“What do you wear on a date to the state fair with your date’s parents, carnival rides that are wardrobe malfunctions waiting to happen, and lots of delicious fried food?” Zoey asked her friends at lunch on Monday. “I’m so nervous!”
“Aren’t you excited?” Libby said.
“Oh, definitely!” Zoey said. “But I’ve never been on a date. I still can’t believe a guy I like actually likes me back!”
“Of course he likes you,” Priti said. “You’re fabulous!”
Her friends all laughed, nodding in agreement.
“Just relax and be yourself,” Kate said. “Think of it as hanging out, rather than as a date. That’s what I’ve done the few times I’ve gone on dates.”
“Thanks,” Zoey said. “I’ll try to remember to do that. But . . . you guys still haven’t helped me answer the all-important outfit question!”
“Something comfortable,” Kate said. “And a top that won’t flip up on a ride.”
“And cute,” Priti added. “But parent friendly, so not too low-cut.”
“Maybe a denim skirt?” Libby suggested. “Or cute overalls?”
“Good idea!” Zoey said. “With a chambray shirt or something like that. Or maybe gingham? Sounds a little costumey, but I’ll try to make it feel more modern.”
“I knew you’d think of something,” Priti said.
“Well, that’s because I have such good friends to help me,” Zoey said, smiling at the girls sitting around the table. “Otherwise, I’d still be panicking!”
“You and Ezra seemed to be having a lot of fun at Libby’s house on Saturday night,” Kate said to Zoey on the bus ride home that afternoon. “I wouldn’t worry too much about going to the state fair with him. I bet you’re going to have a really good time.”
Kate had more experience on the dating front than Zoey did—but she’d just broken up with Tyler, for reasons Zoey didn’t entirely understand.
“I know,” Zoey said. “Kate . . . I hope you don’t mind my asking, but . . . can you explain more about why you broke up with Tyler? It just seems kind of . . . sudden.”
“Oh . . . well, it’s no big deal, really. It’s just . . . when we talked more about the fight we had at Libby’s Bat Mitzvah, I realized that Tyler was always noticing how Libby dressed—and just noticing Libby, period. I was worried it might create tension between her and me,” Kate said. “I mean, I like Tyler a lot, but Libby’s one of my very best friends, and the last thing I want do is compete with my best friend for some guy’s attention, right?”
“That would be really awkward—for everyone,” Zoey said.
“So I figured that even though I liked him, it wasn’t worth risking the potential drama,” Kate said.
“I can see that,” Zoey said. “I guess I’ve just been confused, because you seem so unfazed by breaking up. Like it doesn’t upset you at all.”
“Oh . . . yeah. About that . . . I didn’t want Libby to find out why we broke up, because I was afraid she’d think it was her fault. So I’ve been trying to play it cool,” Kate said. “But to tell you the truth, it hasn’t been that bad.” She fiddled with the fastening on her backpack. “In fact, I’ve been feeling kind of guilty that I haven’t felt more upset.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Zoey told her. “That’s probably a sign that it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Kate gave a relieved smile. “Maybe you’re right,” she said.
“It’s too bad things got weird with you two,” Zoey said. “Tyler seemed like a nice guy.”
“He is a nice guy,” Kate said. “But I guess . . . Well, part of what I liked about him was that he seemed to want to get to know the real me. But then once we started going out, he kept suggesting that I change my style to become more girly—even if, like he said, it was just because he liked the way Libby dressed, n
ot because he wanted me to be more like Libby. But still . . . it felt like he was trying to change me—and I didn’t like it.”
“Of course not!” Zoey exclaimed. “You should never change for anyone, unless it feels right for you and it’s something you really want to do. Okay, lecture’s over.”
“Right now, I’m happy to just be me, without a boyfriend,” Kate admitted. “I’m looking forward to having to think about just school and sports!”
CHAPTER 3
Looking Fairly Fabulous
Yee-haw! I’m going to the state fair with a friend and his family. I’ve never been, but the theme of the fair is “Udderly Amazing!,” so I figured there are going to be cows and other farm animals there. Dad went to the state fair when he was younger, and he said that it’s not just farm animals and tractors—there are fair rides, too. He also said I should bring a good appetite, because there’s every kind of fried food you could possibly imagine—even fried Oreos! I can’t wait!
“Okay, kids—I’ve leaving you money so you can order in. I’ve got a date tonight,” Dad said, putting down some crisp bills onto the kitchen counter.
“Is it with the same person?” Zoey asked. She noticed her father was wearing aftershave, and the shirt she’d helped him choose a few months ago when they went to New York to meet Daphne Shaw, Zoey’s favorite designer and fashion fairy godmother, at her design studio.
Dad blushed and then started wiping nonexistent crumbs off the counter. “Yes, it is,” he said.
“Are we ever going to meet her?” Marcus asked.
“Of course,” Dad said. “I just don’t want to rush things.”
Marcus glanced at Zoey. “Rush things? You’ve been out on plenty of dates already,” he said. “It’s hardly rushing things.”
“Soon, Marcus,” Dad said. “Just . . . be a little patient, okay?”
“Okay, but I don’t understand the secrecy, that’s all,” Marcus complained.
“All in good time, I promise,” Dad said. “I’ve got to run. Don’t want to be late! See you later.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, Marcus exploded. “It’s so silly,” he exclaimed. “Why won’t he introduce us to this Mystery Lady?”
