Carlie had stayed up late last night, carefully cleaning her room, just in case Chelsea needed to see it. But as they walked into her house, she realized that it made no difference. Chelsea would probably still find lots to make fun of in there. Carlie braced herself as she held the door open for Chelsea.
“Everything is so small here,” said Chelsea, looking around the tiny, crowded space. “It’s like a midget house.”
“Except that we’re not midgets,” said Carlie as she pulled out her two swimsuits. “Take your pick.”
Naturally, Chelsea picked Carlie’s favorite, the bright orange tankini. “It’s not exactly my style,” said Chelsea. “But I guess it’ll have to do.”
Carlie took the other suit and began tugging it on. It had navy and white stripes and was getting a little small. She’d had it since fifth grade and hoped she wouldn’t split a seam in it today. Just to be safe she pulled a pair of nylon shorts on over it.
“Being modest, are we?” teased Chelsea.
“No,” admitted Carlie. “But this suit is getting a little tight.”
Chelsea nodded. “You really should get a two-piece, Carlie. You would look totally awesome in one.”
Carlie smiled. “Yeah, but I’d be toast if Mom saw me.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Your mom is so old-fashioned.”
“Tell me about it.”
Carlie grabbed a couple of towels. Not the big, fluffy, pool towels like they used at Chelsea’s house, but at least she picked out ones that weren’t too faded or frayed.
The girls met at the clubhouse and then walked down to the beach, laughing and joking as they went. It actually seemed like everyone was accepting Chelsea — and like Chelsea was trying to fit in. And yet, Carlie still felt a strained awkwardness. Or maybe she was just being too sensitive. But she felt responsible for Chelsea. Like if Chelsea said or did something to offend one of her friends, it would be Carlie’s fault.
They went to their favorite part of the beach, where it was slightly sheltered in case the wind picked up. They began to arrange their towels and blankets, making themselves comfortable.
“I wish I brought my iPod,” said Chelsea. “Then we could have some music.”
“You have an iPod?” said Amy.
“Yeah. And it’s loaded with tunes.”
“You are so lucky.”
“I’m curious, Chelsea,” said Morgan as she rolled a sweatshirt up like a pillow and placed it beneath her head. “You asked about this being a Christian club … does that mean you’re a Christian?”
“Not hardly,” said Chelsea.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because you girls seem kind of like that.”
“Kind of like that?” Morgan turned her head and peered at Chelsea from beneath her oversized sunglasses. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, you know … goody-goody … nicey-nice.”
“Oh … ”
“Well, I’m a Christian,” said Emily. “And I’m not exactly goody-goody.” She laughed. “Of course, I haven’t been a Christian for very long. I’ve still got a lot to learn, huh, Morgan?”
Morgan sat up and shrugged. “I don’t know … I think you’re doing just fine, Emily.”
“So you’re the strong Christian in the group?” said Chelsea. “I knew it.”
“Strong Christian?” echoed Morgan. “You mean like I probably pump iron while I read the Bible?”
Everyone but Chelsea laughed.
“No, I mean the kind of Christian who looks down on everyone who’s not saved like her.”
“Morgan doesn’t do that!” Emily sat up on her knees and planted her hands on her hips.
“That’s right,” said Carlie. “Not at all.”
“I think she does.” Chelsea sat up now. “I think she looks down on me.”
“Where do you get that nonsense?” demanded Emily. “Morgan isn’t like that at all. Not with anyone!”
“Hey,” said Morgan. “Calm down, you guys. If Chelsea really thinks those things, I’d like to hear why.”
“Yeah, why?” said Emily, still visibly mad.
Chelsea shrugged. “I just get that feeling.”
“What feeling?” Emily stared at Chelsea.
“You know, like she thinks she’s so superior. It’s just like the Christian girls at my other school. Audrey and I used to make fun of them all the time.”
“You made fun of them?” asked Morgan. “Just because they were Christians?”
“Because they were freaks,” said Chelsea. “They always talked about who was saved and who wasn’t saved and how they were praying for everyone and everything — always acting like they were better than everyone else.”
“But Morgan’s not like that,” said Carlie.
“She’s not,” admitted Amy. “I mean, she and I don’t always agree on stuff, but Morgan has never put anyone down for not being a Christian.”
Chelsea just shrugged again. “Well, maybe I’m wrong. You guys don’t have to get all mad about it.”
Morgan smiled at her. “I’m not mad, Chelsea. I was just curious. The thing is I really don’t want to come across as that kind of person. I believe that Jesus was the most accepting and loving person to ever walk the planet. If anything, I want to be more like him.”
“Well, the Christians at my other school were not accepting or loving,” said Chelsea. “Not even close.”
“Maybe it’s because you teased them,” said Emily.
Chelsea didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know about you guys,” said Carlie. “But I am getting way too hot in the sun. I’m going in for a swim.” Then she took off, marching toward the water. She knew the real reason she was getting hot was because of Chelsea. Why did that girl have to poke and prod and get everyone mad at her all the time? At this rate, she doubted that anyone would want to invite her to join the club. And maybe that was for the best.
“Hey, Carlie,” called Chelsea, coming up from behind. “Did I do it again?”
“Huh?” Carlie just looked at her, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong.
“You know what I mean. I stuck my foot in my mouth with Morgan. And now you’re mad at me? Right?”
Carlie shrugged. “I don’t know … ”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I told Morgan I was sorry and she said it was no problem. She said she liked having conversations like that. She said it made her think about things.”
Carlie nodded as she went beyond the next set of waves. “Well, good. I’m glad you guys don’t hate each other.”
“But you’re still mad at me?”
Carlie turned and looked at Chelsea to see that her friend did look truly sorry. “No,” said Carlie. “I’m not mad. But you’re a funny girl, Chelsea Landers.”
“Let’s see who can swim the farthest,” said Chelsea as she raced into the deeper water and then dove in and started to swim.
Carlie followed. And after she recovered from the jolt of cold on her sun-baked head, she told herself that she probably was overreacting to everything. Chelsea was just a normal girl who happened to like speaking her mind. Really, what was wrong with that?
chapter ten
To Carlie’s relief, no decisions were made about whether or not Chelsea would be invited to join their club on Friday. In fact, other than the one time that morning, the subject hadn’t even come up again. And it occurred to Carlie that Chelsea might not even be interested.
“You have everything you need, Carlotta?” Mom asked for like the umpteenth time that morning.
“Yes, Mom.” Carlie rinsed her cereal bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. “I told you, I’m all packed and ready to go.”
“And you’ll call me if you need anything?”
“And you’d hop in the car and bring it to me?” teased Carlie.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Carlie promised. “Don’t worry.”
“I am worried,” said Mom. �
��I don’t like the idea of you carrying all that money around in your purse while you girls are in the city.”
“Like Dad suggested,” Carlie reminded her, “I’ll ask Mrs. Landers to hold on to some of it for me.”
“Oh, yes.” Mom nodded.
“They’re here,” said Carlie. She bent down and kissed Mom and then ran to get her bags. She wished that Mom would stay here in the kitchen with the boys, but as expected, she followed Carlie out to the driveway where Chelsea and her mom had just pulled up in the Mercedes.
Still wearing her frumpy pink robe and with Pedro now tugging on her sleeve, Mom stood on the edge of the driveway and waved as Carlie got into the backseat of the car. Carlie waved back, relieved that Mrs. Landers was already backing out.
“It must be a challenge having two small boys so close in age,” said Mrs. Landers as she drove out onto the street.
“They can be a handful,” admitted Carlie.
“I brought a bunch of new magazines,” said Chelsea. “I thought we could get some ideas for things we want to shop for.” She opened one magazine to a page with a Post-it note. “This is how I want my hair cut.”
“That’s cute,” said Carlie.
“Why don’t you get yours cut the same?” asked Chelsea.
“I have a magazine picture in here.” Carlie opened her purse and pulled out the piece of paper and showed it to her. “Morgan found it for me. It’s a little longer than the one you have though.”
“But you’d look so cool with it cut like this,” insisted Chelsea.
They went back and forth about it for a while, and finally Carlie said she’d think about it. “Let’s look at clothes now,” she suggested. “Show me the things that you think will look good on us.”
So for the next couple of hours they studied the fashion magazines and listened to music from Chelsea’s iPod. Carlie knew this was going to be a very good trip after all.
“Now don’t let Chelsea influence you, Carlie,” said Mrs. Landers as she took them into a very fancy hair salon. “You get your hair cut the way you want it.”
“Thanks a lot, Mom,” said Chelsea with a frown.
Carlie winked at Mrs. Landers. “Thanks!”
“I’m getting a manicure,” she told them. “I’ll be over there when you’re done.”
Carlie felt nervous as she got into the haircutting chair, but she forced a smile as Shari, the beautician, wrapped a purple cape around her shoulders.
Shari lifted Carlie’s curls out of the cape. “Beautiful hair,” she told her as she fingered the long, dark curls.
Carlie frowned.
“But you want it cut?”
“Yes.” Carlie produced the slightly rumpled photo from the magazine.
Shari nodded. “Yes, this would look good on you.”
“I’m just so tired of all this hair,” Carlie told her. “It’s everywhere and it gets in everything.”
Shari laughed. “Do you mind if I measure it?”
“Measure it?”
“Yes. If we can take off ten inches, you could donate it to Locks of Love … if you wanted to.”
“Locks of Love?”
“They make wigs for cancer patients who lose their hair from chemotherapy.”
“Oh.” Carlie nodded. “I hope there’s enough.”
As it turned out, there was enough. “Look,” said Shari, holding up the long, curly ponytail. “You’re going to make someone very happy with this.”
“Good,” said Carlie, but all she could do was stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was sticking out like an overgrown bush. She was afraid she was going to cry. Maybe her mom was right!
“Don’t worry,” said Shari. “It’s going to look great when I’m done.”
“Do you mind if I close my eyes?”
Shari laughed. “Not at all.”
So Carlie shut her eyes and waited while Shari snipped and snipped with her scissors. Finally, she told Carlie she was finished.
Carlie took in a deep breath before she opened her eyes, but when she did, she was relieved. It did look better. In fact, it looked great.
“That’s perfect!” she told Shari. “Thank you so much!” She reached up and patted her hair. “And it feels so good. So much lighter.”
Shari gave her some tips for how to keep it looking good, then Mrs. Landers insisted on paying for both girls’ haircuts.
“But I have my own money,” said Carlie.
“I know,” said Mrs. Landers. “But I’d like to do this for you.”
Carlie thanked her, but she wished that she had paid for it herself.
“You’ll have more money for clothes now,” Chelsea told her as they got in the car.
“Your hair looks so cute,” said Carlie. “It’s perfect on you.”
“I have to admit yours looks good too,” said Chelsea. “But I think you’d look just as good if it was shorter.”
The next stop was a large mall. First they got a quick lunch, then Mrs. Landers walked them around a bit until they all knew the basic layout of the shops and department stores. “I’m going to meet my friend Leslie at Starbucks for coffee,” she told them. “Chelsea, you have your phone and I have mine. Check in with me in about an hour, okay?”
Then, just like that, Chelsea and Carlie were totally on their own. It made Carlie a little nervous at first, but at the same time it made her feel much older too. “Does your mom let you shop by yourself all the time?” she asked as they went into an American Eagle store.
“Only if I’m with a friend,” said Chelsea. “Hey, look at this.” She held up a pair of khaki pants. “These are so cool.”
Soon they both had a pile of things to try on. And by the time they left the store, Carlie had spent nearly $100. “Wow,” said Carlie. “I never spent that much money on clothes before.” She didn’t admit that it concerned her that she’d only purchased four items of clothing and three of them were just T-shirts.
“You’re going to look so cool when school starts,” said Chelsea as they walked to the next store.
“I’m going to have to get some more of my money from your mom,” said Carlie.
“I told you to keep it with you,” said Chelsea. “Money goes fast when you’re at the mall.”
“Well, my parents were worried … they thought I’d get mugged or something.”
Chelsea laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Carlie did run out of money at the third store. But Chelsea loaned her enough to get the jeans she wanted, and then they met up with her mom and Leslie at Starbucks.
“Can we leave our bags with you?” asked Chelsea.
“You girls look like you’ve got this shopping thing down,” said Leslie.
“Chelsea is showing me how it works,” Carlie admitted as Mrs. Landers gave her the rest of her money.
“Well, Chelsea was trained by the best,” said Leslie, winking at Mrs. Landers.
“I hope I can keep up,” said Carlie.
“Here,” said Mrs. Landers to Chelsea. “I’ll let you take my Nordstrom’s card with you. Just in case you run out of cash.”
“Thanks!”
They shopped and shopped, and Carlie was actually starting to get tired. Plus her eyes were burning and her ears were ringing. She wondered how Chelsea managed to keep going.
“We still need to look at shoes,” said Chelsea. So Carlie trudged after her into a shoe store. After they tried on several pairs, Chelsea told Carlie which ones to get.
“You’re sure?” asked Carlie, looking at the price.
“Yep. Those are totally cool.”
So, knowing that she was using the last of her money, Carlie got the shoes. “That does it for me,” she said as the saleswoman handed her the bag.
“What?” said Chelsea.
“I’m out of money,” said Carlie. “So I’m done.”
Chelsea frowned. “Well, I’m not.”
Carlie held up all the bags. Some of them were cutting into her hands. “I’m tired.”
“Let’s drop them off with Mom. And then you can help me to finish up. I still need to find a jacket and some shoes and … ”
Carlie let the rest of the list just float over her as they went back to Starbucks and dumped the rest of their bags on Mrs. Landers and Leslie.
“Aren’t you girls ready to go yet?” she asked Chelsea.
“Just another hour, Mom,” she pleaded.
“Then we’re leaving,” warned her mom.
“No problem.”
Carlie followed Chelsea around, waiting as she tried on still more clothes and helping her carry packages.
“I’m out of money too,” said Chelsea just as they stopped in front of an accessories shop.
“Then let’s go,” said Carlie, relieved that this shopping madness was coming to an end.
“But I need a necklace to go with that peach-colored top I just got.”
“But you’re out of money.”
“I can look, can’t I?”
“What’s the point?” asked Carlie.
“I need a necklace.”
“Well, you’ve still got your mom’s Nordstrom’s card. You could go there for a necklace.”
“That’s clear at the other end of the mall.” Chelsea looked at her watch. “We don’t have time.”
“But you don’t have money,” Carlie reminded her as Chelsea stubbornly walked into the small shop.
Carlie rearranged the bags she was carrying for Chelsea so she could get through the tight aisles that were filled with racks and racks of earrings and pendants and bracelets. Why was Chelsea wasting time here anyway? Carlie took a deep breath, reassuring herself that soon it would be time to go, and this never-ending shopping excursion would come to an end. She glanced over at one of the many mirrors in this shop and was surprised to see a girl with cute dark hair that was cut in layers around her face. Then she realized it was her and almost laughed. Almost. Because she saw something else in the mirror just then. In that same instant, she saw Chelsea behind her, and she was swooping several necklaces right off the rack and into her opened Banana Republic bag. Just like that. Chelsea wasn’t even looking at the things that tumbled into her bag — almost as if she didn’t know it had happened. But Carlie knew that she did.
Take Charge Page 7
