by Chloe Taylor
“Great to meet you, too!” Zoey said. “Let us know if you need help or want someone to sit with at lunch.”
“Merci—I mean, thank you,” Josie said.
“Definitely,” Kate said. “We’ll introduce you to our other friends too.”
“I knew I could count on you to be a good welcoming committee,” Ms. Austen said.
“Thanks,” Zoey said. “By the way, I love your haircut.”
“Why, thank you,” Ms. Austen said. “I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m feeling more confident with it.”
Unlike how I’m feeling about my outfit, Zoey thought.
“Oh, look, there’s Libby’s bus,” Kate said.
They walked over to greet Libby as she got off the bus. Shannon was standing nearby with Ivy and Bree. She was wearing the outfit Zoey had picked out for her.
“I love those leopard-print pants,” Zoey overheard Ivy telling Shannon. “I’m going to have to get a pair myself.”
“Me too,” Bree chimed in.
So much for Shannon having her own look, Zoey thought.
Then Ivy looked over in Zoey’s direction and snickered. “Looks like the circus came to town and forgot to take the clown with them when they left.”
Bree laughed. Shannon didn’t laugh. When Zoey looked at her, Shannon gave Zoey an apologetic glance, but she didn’t say anything. Zoey was torn. It would give her so much satisfaction to be able to tell Ivy that she was the one who’d picked out the leopard-print jeans that Ivy liked so much. She wanted to say it more than anything. But she’d promised Shannon she’d keep it a secret, and a promise was a promise.
That just made it all the more hurtful when Shannon didn’t say anything to stick up for her, especially since she’d said in private how much she liked Zoey’s outfit.
Zoey bit her lip and walked away.
“Why do you hang out with Shannon when she just stands there when Ivy’s being so mean to you?” Kate asked.
“Seriously,” Libby agreed. “I don’t get it.”
Zoey wasn’t sure she understood it either. But she was saved from having to answer because just then, Priti arrived, dressed from top to toe in black, with black nail polish and streaks of blue hair.
Priti’s appearance didn’t come as quite as much of a shock to Zoey as it was to Kate and Libby. She’d at least had some inkling of Priti’s dramatic change in style from their shopping expedition at the mall. The blue hair streaks were a surprise, though. She wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Holbrooke reacted to that.
Kate and Libby couldn’t believe their eyes.
“Who are you and what have you done with Priti?” Kate asked.
“Is that a costume?” Libby asked.
“No, it’s not a costume,” Priti said. “It’s my new look.”
“B-but . . . it’s so . . . ,” Kate stammered.
“So what?” Priti asked.
“Different,” Libby said. “I mean, from how you normally dress.”
“What did your mom say when she saw your hair?” Zoey asked.
Priti was about to answer when a brown-haired boy in khakis and a polo shirt said, “Hi, Priti.”
Priti stared at him blankly.
Zoey didn’t recognize him either. She wondered if he was a new student. But if he was, how did he know Priti?
“It’s me, Miles,” the mystery boy revealed. “Your sister Sashi and my sister Nicole were in orchestra together this summer. Remember?”
Zoey couldn’t believe it. She remembered Miles from last year. He was known as the Goth Kid because he had black hair and black nail polish and stud earrings, and he always wore black. In fact, he was always dressed in clothes just like Priti was wearing now!
“But, Miles . . . you look so . . . different!” Priti managed to say.
“So do you,” Miles said. “It’s almost like we . . . switched. Well, see you later, I guess.”
“I can’t believe it!” Priti exclaimed when he walked away. “We started hanging out when we had to wait for our sisters at orchestra rehearsal pickup. He was the one who inspired me to dress this way. I thought his look was so cool. So . . . what’s made him go all preppy?”
“He looked just as surprised to see you dressed the way he used to look,” Zoey observed.
“I didn’t even recognize him,” Libby said.
“Wait, Priti—you never answered my question about your hair,” Zoey said. “What did your mom say about you dyeing it? Did she totally freak out?”
“She doesn’t know,” Priti said. “Because I didn’t dye it. These are clip-ins.”
Zoey couldn’t help feeling relieved that the blue streaks weren’t permanent.
“We haven’t walked into the building yet and so much has already changed this year,” Kate said. “I wonder what else is going to happen.”
In the hallway between classes, Zoey bumped into her friend Gabe. Over the summer, she had run into him a few times but hadn’t seen him since her brother’s band’s concert.
“Hi, Zoey,” he said. “Did you have a good rest of the summer?”
“Yes,” she said. “What about you?”
“Good,” Gabe said. “How’s the Sew Zoey Etsy site going?”
“Okay, I guess,” Zoey said. “I mean, the sales aren’t fantastic, but . . .”
“Don’t forget, I can help you with the photographs,” Gabe reminded her. “I learned a lot about lighting in the class I took this summer. There are all kinds of tricks I can use to make your designs really pop.”
“Really? You’d do that?” Zoey said.
“Of course! It’ll be cool,” Gabe said. “How about Wednesday after school?”
“Sounds good,” Zoey said.
She noticed that as she was talking, Gabe was looking over her shoulder, seemingly very interested in whatever he was seeing behind her. She turned and saw Josie, the French girl, coming down the hall toward them.
“Oh, hi, Josie,” Zoey said. “How’s your day going so far?”
“Comme ci, comme ça. A little confusing.”
“Um . . . this is my friend Gabe Monaco,” Zoey said. “Josie’s a new student from Paris.”
“Enchanté, Josie,” Gabe said. “Ça va?”
“Oui, ça va bien. Tu parles français?” Josie responded.
“Un petit peu,” Gabe said.
Zoey couldn’t understand what they were saying, and she felt left out of the conversation. She couldn’t help noticing how animated Gabe was when he talked to Josie too.
“I’ve got to get to class,” Zoey said. “I’ll see you later.”
Gabe said, “Later, Zo,” and Josie said, “À bientôt,” but neither seemed too aware that she was leaving. Zoey couldn’t help feeling a little upset. Gabe had always been so attentive to her. But suddenly he seemed to have forgotten she existed. Her first day was turning out to be kind of a bust. Maybe she should have listened to the naysayers about her outfit after all. At least then she’d have felt better about one thing on her first day back at school.
She was glad to get together with her friends at lunch to see how everyone’s day was going and to catch up.
“I can’t wait till today is over,” she said. “I’m kind of wishing I hadn’t worn this.”
“Don’t let Ivy get you down, Zoey,” Libby said. “Remember, you were the one voted Best Dressed last year, not her.”
“I know,” Zoey said. “But what if I’ve lost my touch?”
“Nobody gets it right all the time,” Priti said. “You’re entitled to a fashion faux pas once in a while.”
“So you agree with Dad and Marcus and Allie? You think it is a faux pas?” Zoey asked.
Priti hesitated. “Well . . . if you want me to be totally honest . . . it’s not my favorite outfit ever. I just don’t think it flatters you the way your designs normally do.”
“You look a little lost in the wide legs,” Libby said. “Like you’re a kid wearing grown-up pants or something.”
It was the first time her
friends had ever criticized her work so bluntly. It wasn’t a great feeling.
“Don’t be mad, Zoey,” Kate said. “You know we love your stuff ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. If I had that kind of winning percentage in sports, I’d be doing a happy dance!”
“I guess,” Zoey said.
“So guess what Mom’s making me do after school.” Kate sighed, obviously attempting to change the subject.
“What?” Priti asked.
“She’s so sick of me hanging around the house, telling her I’m bored because I can’t do sports, that she said I have to take piano lessons,” Kate said.
“But what about your arm?” Zoey asked.
“The doctor said the finger movements wouldn’t be too taxing, so it would be okay,” Kate explained. “And Mom always wanted to be a professional concert pianist, so she’s really been pushing the idea.”
“That’s awesome!” Libby exclaimed. “You’ll love playing the piano. I’ve been taking lessons since I was little. We can play a duet together!”
“Well, give me a chance to learn how to play more than ‘Chopsticks’ first!” Kate laughed. “I guess I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be fun to do something different for a change.”
All Zoey could think about was going home and changing into something different. But she still had the whole afternoon—and more encounters with Ivy—to go.
Every time Zoey saw Ivy for the rest of the day, there was another snide remark about her outfit. It was bad enough when Ivy was by herself or just with Bree, but the times that hurt Zoey the most were when Shannon was there too and said nothing.
Why doesn’t she say anything? Zoey thought as she walked to catch the bus after school.
“Is everything okay, Zoey?” Ms. Austen asked as Zoey walked by. “You look like you’ve had a tough first day.”
Zoey sighed, and her eyes felt heavy with unshed tears.
“I think maybe Dad and Marcus were right. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this outfit to school,” she said. “Maybe it is over the top and . . . well, ridiculous. I’ve gone from Best Dressed to Worst Dressed.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ms. Austen said, her voice kind and gentle. “I’m really proud of you for always being willing to take risks and be true to yourself. Most middle-school kids just want to dress like everyone else—but no one can ever say that about Zoey Webber!”
“Usually, I really like being true to myself, but it’s not so much fun when you make mistakes. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to dress like everyone else,” Zoey said.
“Zoey, you have a special gift for fashion. I think you know that deep down. But you’re human, and that means you’re allowed to make mistakes once in a while.”
Tell that to Ivy, Zoey thought.
“Give yourself a break, okay?” Ms. Austen said. “Tomorrow’s another day for fashion.”
Feeling a little bit better, Zoey headed for the bus. Ms. Austen was right. Tomorrow was another day, and she had plenty of ideas for new outfits!
CHAPTER 4
Back in Time
Do you ever wish you could go back in time and have a do-over? I’m feeling like that about my back-to-school outfit. It was inspired by a sixties movie, and I thought it was really cool and retro, except updated with my own modern touches.
I still think its cool, but . . . well, let’s just say that the reviews from everyone else were mixed! Dad and Marcus thought I was making a big mistake. They aren’t the world’s most fashionable guys, but they really care about me. Allie does have good fashion sense, and she wasn’t crazy about it either. Aunt Lulu was on the fence. When I got dressed for school this morning, I almost wore something else. But then I thought: Shouldn’t I stay true to my creative vision, even if people around me are telling me it’s wrong?
So I did—and the reward was that I got to listen to this mean girl making fun of me all day. What’s worse is that a certain person just stood there and didn’t say anything, even though she’d told me she liked the design the day before.
Now I’m wondering—was I right to wear it or was I wrong? How do you know when to go with your gut and stay true to your ideas and when to listen to the critics and make changes?
The next day things went more smoothly for Zoey on the fashion front. But when she met her friends at lunch, she learned that things weren’t as smooth for Kate and her new extracurricular activity.
“Learning to play the piano is way harder than I thought it would be,” Kate complained. “Mom always makes it look so easy and fun when she plays. But now I have to learn how to do hard stuff, like reading music and practicing boring scales.”
“Learning to read music isn’t that hard,” Libby assured her. “It just takes some getting used to.”
“I hope you’re right.” Kate sighed. “Right now it’s like trying to read gibberish. It’s more fun when I get to mess around and play ‘Chopsticks.’ ”
“Maybe think of playing scales like doing drills at soccer practice,” Libby said. “They help your fingers the same way drills help your footwork.”
“Soccer drills are more fun, though,” Kate said. “At least I’m running around instead of sitting on a bench.”
Zoey secretly wondered if Kate was going to last at piano lessons. But if she could give them half the determination she showed toward sports, she’d be fine.
“Speaking of running around,” Libby said, “my little sister, Sophie, was running around telling the entire first grade that the famous Sew Zoey made her dress just for her.”
“That’s so adorable!” Zoey exclaimed.
“Mom said Sophie told her she felt like the queen of first grade,” Libby said. “She said to tell you thank you!”
“I enjoyed making it for her,” Zoey said. “Especially once I figured out I wasn’t going crazy and losing everything and that it was Sophie who was taking the bits and pieces for her dollhouse!”
“I wish I felt like the queen of something fun,” Priti grumbled. “Right now, I’m just the queen of shuttling back and forth between Mom’s house and Dad’s house. I wish I could turn back time, so that I was at camp and I still thought there was a chance my parents would stay together.”
“It must be so hard,” Zoey said, giving her friend’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. She’d seen how Priti had reacted when she, Aunt Lulu, and Mr. Holbrooke had worked in secret to create a dream room for Priti at her dad’s house. Even though she loved the room, Priti ended up crying because her father decorating a room for her made her realize her parents definitely weren’t getting back together.
Priti adjusted the black rubber bracelets on her wrist, then picked up her bag and her tray.
“I’ve got to hit the restroom before class. See you later!” she said.
Her friends all watched her black-clad figure walk away through the crowded cafeteria.
“Do you think Priti’s going to wear all black, all the time now?” Libby asked.
“I don’t know,” Zoey said. “When we went to the mall, I picked out all these typical Priti outfits, but she just wanted to buy the black pieces she’d chosen. So I suggested a scarf to brighten things up, but she still wasn’t interested.”
“I’m worried about her,” Libby said. “It’s so un-Priti to be dark and uncolorful. She’s usually the queen of color and glitz!”
“Maybe she’s just not feeling that colorful and glitzy with her parents getting divorced and her life being so topsy-turvy,” Kate said. “I mean, what I’m going through isn’t nearly as bad, but I don’t feel like myself when I can’t do sports.”
“It’s just so dramatic,” Zoey pointed out. “One minute she’s Miss More Color the Better, and the next minute she’s Miss No Color at All.”
“But Priti’s always been dramatic,” Kate argued. “She never does things halfway.”
“That’s true,” Libby said. “But I hope this isn’t permanent. I miss the old, colorful Priti.”
“We’ll just have to wait and se
e,” Zoey said.
When Zoey got home from school, she checked Sew Zoey and was happy to see there were lots of helpful comments.
CrossStitchGal wrote:
You should definitely stay true to your vision, but it helps to find a core group of people you trust that you can ask for constructive criticism of your ideas. Then listen to their feedback without taking it personally—which can be hard sometimes!
Zigzagger wrote that she had a sewing circle called the Rippin’ Stitchers:
We critique each others work. Sometimes the critiques can get a little “pointed” LOL! But we’ve learned to trust each other’s judgment and be honest but kind!
There was even a comment from Zoey’s fashion fairy godmother, DaphneShawNY:
Personally, I loved the design, but you’re going to have to recognize that not everything you create will be a hit with everyone. When you’re in this business—or indeed, any creative field—you have to learn to develop a thick skin.
Knowing that Daphne Shaw liked her design made Zoey feel a lot better. Who cared if Ivy thought she looked like a clown if Daphne Shaw liked it!
But her readers were right—she did need to learn how to listen to helpful advice. The question was, how did she go about doing that?
She was lying on her bed thinking about that when she suddenly had the inspiration for a new design. Reaching for her sketchbook and pencil, Zoey started drawing her new idea, inspired by her Sew Zoey readers. I can’t wait to get their constructive criticism on this one, she thought with a smile.
Zoey was getting a drink at the water fountain between classes the next day when Miles tapped her on the shoulder. She was so surprised, she dribbled water down her shirt.
“You scared me!” she said, wiping her chin with her arm.
“Sorry,” Miles said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. Zoey was so used to him being the Goth Kid. Now, instead of standing out, he fit in with everyone else, but Zoey was surprised to realize the preppy look really suited him.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asked. “Can you give this to Priti?”
He held out an envelope with Priti’s name on it.
