by Coco Simon
“Next is Blayne Lockery, the star of the hit television series Young Vampires.”
A bunch of people in the crowd clapped really hard, because Blayne is pretty famous. I hadn’t recognized her because her hair was in this cute, short bob, and on the show it’s really long.
Ava, who was on the other side of me, noticed it too. “She must wear a wig on the show,” she whispered.
“And last but not least, legendary designer Simone Veger!”
Simone got the loudest applause of all. She really is a legend. You can only find her clothes in the fanciest department stores in the city.
“And now, without further adieu, I present to you the top ten looks in our fantasy dress competition!” Laura announced, and then she climbed down from the runway.
They had told me that they were going to reveal the dresses from tenth place to first place. Loud music started blaring from the speakers, and the first model walked out.
The model was wearing a shiny silver jumpsuit with a thick band around the middle, and wide legs.
“Designer Dena Wilmore made this jumpsuit out of an unconventional material—aluminum foil,” Laura narrated. “It’s sure to lend shine to any night out on the town.”
For the first time in my life I knew what people meant when they said, “my jaw dropped open.” My mouth was open wide in shock—Katie had been right! Aluminum foil? The judges liked things that were edgy and different.
The next dress was a superpretty, flowing peasant dress with a design stitched across the bodice.
“Jordan Lynn tells us she spent thirty-six hours hand-embroidering this dress,” reported Laura.
Thirty-six hours. Wow. I was really impressed.
The next few dresses were all on the ultracreative side. One had a plastic bubble skirt over white leggings. Another dress was sewn from Japanese origami paper! And I thought my satin lining was difficult.
By the time they got to my dress, I was starting to wonder how I had achieved third place. I held my breath as the model wearing the fourth-place dress finished her walk.
“Next, Mia Vélaz-Cruz gives us a sophisticated evening dress with a playful satin lining and matching cape,” Laura said, and Emma stepped out onto the runway. Mom had done her hair and makeup again, and even though she was wearing the silver high heels, she managed to gracefully stroll down the runway. When she got to the end of her walk, she unbuttoned the cape and playfully tossed it over one shoulder, so people could see the reversible pink side.
“Woo-hoo!” Katie cheered next to me.
I carefully observed the judges as they watched Emma walk. I mean, I know that they already liked the dress, but this was their first time seeing it in person, and I wanted to see their reactions. I couldn’t read Jeremy and Blayne, but Simone was nodding her head and smiling.
Everyone was clapping for the dress, and I felt myself blushing with pride. This was the coolest moment ever!
Then the second dress came out. “Our second-place winner is Zoey Webber, with a beautiful take on mixing materials.”
It was a two-piece look, with this amazingly tailored jacket that flared out a little at the waist, paired with a long, straight skirt that looked kind of like a patchwork except all the pieces were the same color. It looked really edgy and cool, and I knew there was no way I could have made that jacket. Not without a lot more lessons from Millicent.
I heard a squeal and then turned to my left. I saw some girls hugging a pretty girl with long brown hair and side-swept bangs. I guessed that was probably Zoey Webber. She caught my eye, and we both smiled shyly at each other. Zoey pointed at Emma wearing my dress and silently mouthed, You? I nodded and then pointed to the second-place winner and mouthed back, You? She nodded, and we both giggled. Mom was right—being in the top three was awesome!
“And now our first-place dress, designed by Lauren Noll.”
A tall, thin model stepped onto the runway, wearing a dress that looked like something out of a dream. It was this really pretty soft tangerine color with a tight, sleeveless bodice and a skirt that was just layers and layers of soft, fluffy tulle—or was it organza? The layers cascaded down the model’s body and trailed behind her on the floor. It looked like she was wearing a tangerine cloud.
“That is fabulous!” I whispered to Ava.
Before the fashion show I sort of believed that third place was a good thing and that there were probably better entries than mine, but now I really believed it. The dress was magnificent.
The crowd applauded wildly, and then all ten models came out for one final walk. This time, Katie stood up when Emma came out, and a bunch of other people in the crowd started standing up too.
“Let’s hear it for these talented young designers!” Laura called out, and the applause got even louder.
“Just soak it all in, Mia,” Ava whispered into my ear. “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
But guess what? It did get better. When the show was over, everybody was invited to hang out and have refreshments set up on one side of the room. Katie and Ava made a beeline for the food, Emma sat down and changed from her heels to silver flats, and Alexis started handing out business cards to everybody.
“We have experience catering for fashion shows,” she was saying, which is true. (We had made cupcakes for a fashion show at the Women’s Club once.)
As for me, I was busy getting squeezed by Mom, Eddie, and Dad. I am lucky that things aren’t too weird with Mom and Dad since the divorce. Dad doesn’t mind hanging around when Eddie’s there. It’s kind of nice for me to have everybody who loves me all in one place.
“I’m so proud of you, mija,” Dad told me. “Your dress is beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And thanks for sending me to the program at Parsons. It really helped.”
“Anything for my daughter,” Dad said, hugging me again.
As I broke away from Dad, Laura Arnes walked up to me and extended her hand.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mia,” she said. “Your dress was absolutely lovely. We had to acknowledge it because your sewing and instincts were impeccable, and the design was truly classic. Simone especially loved it.”
“She did?” I asked, glancing over at the famous designer. She was talking to Jeremy and laughing at something he was saying.
Laura nodded. “Yes. But we were looking for a fantasy dress, and some of the girls were able to dream up some really unique and amazing designs.”
“I know,” I said. “Those last two dresses were spectacular.”
Laura smiled. “I hope you enjoyed the show and will enter again,” she said. “We here at Teen Runway look forward to seeing what you will create in years to come.”
“I will. Thank you!” I said, and as I shook her hand once again, I suddenly realized how sweaty my palms were. But Laura was too classy to say anything; she just smiled and walked away.
Katie and Ava ran up to me.
“Wow, that is so cool!” Ava said. “The editor of Teen Runway just shook your hand!”
“Yeah, I guess she did,” I said as the awesomeness of the whole situation just kept spreading over me.
Then I heard a voice exclaim, “Sara!”
A man wearing a blue hat with a red feather in it walked right toward my mom. I recognized him right away. It was Verne Garcia, another designer. His fall fashion show had been a huge hit.
“You know him?” I whispered.
Mom nodded. “I worked on several of his shows,” she said, and then she smiled and extended her hand. “Verne, so good to see you!”
“Pleasure,” Verne said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Then he looked at me.
“You didn’t tell me you had a budding designer in your house,” he said. He leaned over to me. “Don’t worry. . . . Some of these crazy outfits definitely took skill, but they aren’t wearable at all. I mean, who’s going to wear an outfit that’s made out of aluminum foil? You, my dear, have an impeccable eye for what a woman would actu
ally buy. A truly marketable skill, and a rare one, too. I’m going to keep my eye on you!”
“Thanks!” I said, and I felt a perma-grin appear on my face as he waved and walked away. Verne Garcia was going to keep an eye on me. Me!
“You know, that’s very true, Mia,” Mom said. “It’s a good lesson, too. Some fashion is for appreciation, and some fashion is for wearing.”
I thought about it. “That makes sense,” I said. “I guess the fashion appreciation stuff gets more attention.”
“Yes, and to be fair, the designs that won had an incredible amount of talent behind them,” Mom pointed out. “But you are a little more practical. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Did somebody say practical?” Alexis asked, walking up to us. “That makes sense to me.”
“Me too,” said Katie, looking down at her jeans. “My whole wardrobe is practical. And stained.”
We all laughed.
“I can’t think of anything that could make this day any better,” I said with a happy sigh.
“I can,” said Katie.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
Katie grinned. “Cupcakes!”
“Three cheers for Mia!” Katie cried, holding out her cupcake.
After the fashion show, we had said good-bye to Dad and Ava, and Mom, Eddie, Dan, and I headed back home with the rest of the Cupcake Club. Then we all went to Katie’s house. To surprise me, she had decorated her living room with gray and pink streamers and a big sign that read, CONGRATULATIONS, MIA!
Not only that, but Katie, Emma, and Alexis had baked me a special batch of cupcakes, with icing the same gray as my dress, and a perfect pink flower on top of each one.
Mrs. Brown and Mr. Green joined us, and everyone held up a cupcake for a toast.
“Mia! Mia! Mia!” everyone cheered.
“Thanks!” I said. “Here’s to coming in third.”
“You know, top three is pretty darn good,” said Katie. “I mean, you guys are my top three friends.”
I giggled. “And you three are my top three friends.”
“Mine too!” said Alexis.
“Ditto!” added Emma, and we all collapsed into giggles.
Katie’s mom motioned to the adults. “Let’s head into the kitchen for coffee. You can come too, Dan.”
“Thanks,” my stepbrother replied. “It’s getting way too girlie in here.”
I sat down on Katie’s comfy couch and unwrapped my cupcake. The pleats on the wrapper reminded me of a pleated skirt.
“Hey!” I cried. “What about a dress made entirely out of cupcake wrappers?”
“Oh my gosh! That’s genius!” Katie cried.
Alexis nodded. “Cupcake fashion. Could be a nice business tie-in.”
“Well,” said Emma. “Considering what happened this time, maybe you should stay clear of mixing cupcakes with fabric.”
“Good point,” said Katie. “Unless wearing frosting is part of the design.”
I laughed. It felt good to joke about the disaster now. And besides, that catastrophe made me rethink the design and be open to other suggestions. All things Mom said were really important for being a fashion designer.
I was glad that the contest was over and that I could just hang out with my friends again. It had been a pretty stressful few weeks. Third place wasn’t what I originally planned for, but it turned out to be a pretty big deal. As I bit into the delicious cupcake, I realized that sometimes things don’t exactly go as planned, and they don’t end perfectly, but sometimes they end up sweeter in the end.
Want another sweet cupcake?
Here’s a sneak peek of the next book in the
series:
Emma’s
not-so-sweet
dilemma
Baking Hazard
My alarm went off and I hit snooze, even though I was already more than half awake. The Cupcake Club was coming over pretty early this morning to work out the kinks in a new recipe we were creating for a holiday boutique we were participating in, and I was looking forward to it. I snuggled deep under my covers and wiggled my toes in their fluffy pink socks. But I dreaded getting out of bed, even though it was a Saturday. It had been so freezing cold for the past week that I’d been walking around like a mummy in layers and layers of clothes (sleeping in socks and long flannel pj’s), and to leave my cocoon of blankets this morning would be unbearable.
But then I noticed something. I could smell! I’d been suffering from a terrible cold for the past week, and my nose had been totally stuffed up. I couldn’t even taste the cupcakes we made at our last Cupcake meeting, never mind smell them cooking. (Katie was raving about the aroma, and I felt totally left out!) But now my cold seemed like it was nearly gone, and I could smell the pancakes my mom was making downstairs. Their scent floated under the crack in my door, across the room, and tickled my nose, like in a cartoon. Cold or no, I had to have them!
I braced myself, flopped back the covers, and launched out of bed. My dad insists on keeping the heat lower than most normal people would. (“Just put on a sweater!” he grumps when I’m sitting at my desk doing homework, my nose red and running from the cold.) But today I am already noticing it must be warmer outside, because when I opened my bedroom door, I didn’t have the sensation that I was entering a walk-in freezer. This day just kept getting better and better!
Downstairs, my mom was listening to an author being interviewed on public radio while she bustled around the kitchen making breakfast. Besides pancakes there were hard-boiled eggs with sea salt, fruit salad, and fresh-squeezed orange juice.
“Mama!” I squealed, using my baby name for her. “What’s the occasion?”
“Good morning, sweetheart!” my mom said cheerily. She put down the pan she was drying with a dish towel. “The occasion is that it will break forty degrees today! It’s summer!” she joked.
“Wow, maybe I’ll go to the beach,” I said, and we both laughed. “What’s up for today? The girls are coming over in half an hour to bake. We’re going to need the kitchen, please.”
“Okay. That’s fine. Let’s see. Matt should be home from practice with Dad any minute. Jake has a playdate at eleven. Sam is actually around today; he’s working the night shift at the theater, because he’s got to study for exams. So a busy morning but probably a quiet afternoon around here.” She put a plate down in front of me. It had a steaming stack of chocolate chip pancakes on it that looked like ginormous chocolate chip cookies.
“Mmmm!” My mouth was watering. I sliced off a huge pat of butter and slathered it in between the pancakes, where it quickly melted and pooled. When I took my first bite, the saltiness of the butter and the sweetness of the pancake combined with the sharp chocolate, forming an ideal swirl in my mouth.
“Oh, Mom!” I moaned. “These are soooo good! Thank you for making them!”
My mom smiled. “Glad you like them.”
“We should really do a chocolate chip pancake cupcake. I need to get Katie on it. She’s so good at figuring out what you need to do to make something taste like something else. Sometimes you almost have to trick your mouth. It’s cool how she knows what to do.” I took a big swig of orange juice and returned to the pancake stack.
“What was that new holiday cupcake you were working on last week? That one sounded delicious,” my mom said enthusiastically.
“Well, there were two, actually. One was a cherry cupcake with pistachio frosting, so it’s red and green for Christmas—get it? The other was blue and white for Hanukkah. The blue frosting was peppermint and the white cake was vanilla. It’s a great combo. Kind of like peppermint stick ice cream. I think we’ve got the Hanukkah one down, but we’re going to be tinkering with the red and green one today. My nose was so stuffed up last week, I couldn’t taste anything, so at this meeting I think I’ll be more helpful.” I inhaled deeply through my nose, and my mom smiled again.
“Back to normal?”
“Almost. Much better, anyway. It was such a drag b
eing sick.”
Just then my dad and Matt walked in.
“Awesome!” cried Matt, running to the stovetop where my mom had a tall stack of pancakes keeping warm. He reached his hands out to grab one off the top, but my mom was there in a flash.
“Not so fast, mister! Wash those hands first!”
The boys’ hands are always supergross when they get home from practice, no matter what sport it is. And they play every sport. Lucky me.
Matt rolled his eyes and reluctantly went to the sink. “Can I have six, please, Mom?” he asked.
“Must’ve been a big practice!” My mom laughed.
“Wait, can you save a couple for the Cupcake Clubbers, please?” I asked.
“I have lots more batter, so don’t worry,” said my mom. “I’ll make a few more and keep them warm in the oven, then I’ll clear out, so you can have the kitchen all to yourselves.”
“The Cupcake Club is meeting here today? Oh, great.” Matt groaned, tucking into his pancake stack (with a fork this time). But he didn’t look too upset about it. My friends are really cute and my BFF, Alexis Becker, has a major crush on Matt. They’ve even had some mild date-y interaction, which for me is cool and annoying all at the same time.
“You know you love it when we’re here,” I teased.
“Not,” said Matt.
“Well, you certainly love the free cupcake samples!”
“Yeah, but I take my life in my hands every time I try one!”
“Well, if you think we’re such bad bakers, maybe you don’t need to sample anything or hang around my cute friends this morning. Huh? How do you like that?”
“No need to get all huffy,” said Matt.
I knew I’d backed him into a corner, so I decided for one final push. “Go ahead and apologize and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
Matt scoffed, but then after a pause he said, “I’m sorry you’re such bad bakers.”
“Matthew!” warned my mom, but she was laughing.
“Seriously? And you think I’m going to . . .”
