by Chloe Taylor
Zoey’s eyes widened in horror when she saw the time of the return train. Six forty-five? The dance started at five, and the ride was more than an hour long! There was no way she’d be able to be on Fashion Showdown and go to the dance.
Zoey slammed her laptop shut and threw herself back on her pillows. She’d just been to A Stitch in Time that afternoon and spent her savings on fabric for the dress she’d designed. Would it all be for nothing? It just didn’t seem fair.
But as much as Zoey wanted to go to the dance, she couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to be a guest judge on Fashion Showdown. Just thinking about going to New York and getting to meet with real-life designers made her tingle with excitement from head to toe. Giving that up would be hard, and Zoey wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.
Sighing, she picked up The Misfits. Maybe reading about the problems of Bobby and his friends would help distract her from her own.
As soon as Kate sat next to her on the bus the following morning, Zoey launched into a description of her dreadful dilemma.
“It’s so unfair,” she complained. “Why does everything good have to happen at the same time?”
“I dunno,” Kate mumbled.
Zoey realized that Kate seemed subdued and not her usual self.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Is something the matter?”
Kate didn’t answer right away. She looked down at her fidgeting fingers. Then she looked up at Zoey, her brow creased with worry.
“Oh, Zoey, I feel sooooo bad! I don’t know what to do!”
“What is it?” Zoey asked, alarmed.
“So . . . yesterday, after practice, Felix started talking to me. I didn’t really think about it much because he’s on the team and . . . well . . . he asked me to the dance!”
“He what? But he said he’d go with Priti!” Zoey exclaimed. “And it’s supposed to be a Vice Versa dance. That’s breaking the rules!”
“I know,” Kate said.
“What did you say?”
“That’s the worst part,” Kate groaned. “I knew Priti liked him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I said I’d think about it. But of course I won’t go with him since he said he’s going with Priti!”
“I can’t believe he even asked you,” Zoey said. “That’s so wrong!”
“I know,” Kate said. “But he did. What should I do?”
Zoey didn’t know. The one thing she did know was that she didn’t want her best friends to fall out over a rule-breaking boy like Felix, who would ask out one girl after saying yes to another.
“I think you should tell Priti what happened, just like you told me. Be honest. And then tell Felix the Faithless that you wouldn’t go to the dance with him if he were the last boy on the planet.”
“I can’t say that!” Kate exclaimed. “It would hurt his feelings.”
“Okay, just tell him you have other plans,” Zoey said. “But I care more about hurting Priti’s feelings. So tell her the truth.”
“I will,” Kate promised. “When we see each other at lunch, I’ll tell her everything.”
Libby met Zoey in the hallway after third period. She didn’t look happy.
“Did you hear about Kate and Felix?” Libby asked.
Zoey felt sick.
“Hear what?” Zoey asked.
“They’re going to the dance together. Felix said he asked Kate and she said yes. I heard him telling all his friends in my last class.”
“Nooooo . . .” Zoey groaned. “This is terrible.”
“I know,” Libby said. “Doesn’t Priti like Felix? Why would Kate say yes to him when she knows Priti likes him? That’s so wrong.”
“She didn’t say yes!” Zoey exclaimed. “She told me on the bus this morning.”
“So . . . why is Felix going around telling everyone they’re going to the dance together?”
Zoey sighed. “Because Kate didn’t exactly say no, either. You know what Kate’s like, Libs. She got all flustered and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she told Felix she’d think about it.”
“And he decided that ‘thinking about it’ meant ‘yes’?”
“I guess. Which stinks, because Kate was going to explain everything to Priti at lunch, and now she’s probably going to hear about it from someone else. . . .”
“And she’ll be mad at Kate instead of Felix,” Libby said.
“Right. And Felix is the one she should be mad at, because he said he’d go to the dance with her when she asked him.”
“What? Priti already asked him and he had the nerve to ask Kate?”
“Seems like it.”
There was a poster for the dance on the wall near them. Libby looked up at it. “I feel like taking that thing off the wall and ripping it into a zillion pieces,” she said. “I’m starting to wish we weren’t even having this stupid dance.”
“It’ll be fun,” Zoey reassured her friend, feeling a pang because she might not be there herself. “We just have to make sure Kate and Priti don’t fall out because Felix is being a jerk.”
It was too much to hope that Priti hadn’t heard the news. The expression on her face as she walked toward Zoey on the way to the cafeteria told Zoey she had.
“I just heard that Felix asked out Kate and she said yes,” Priti fumed. “I can’t believe Kate would do that—it doesn’t seem like her! She knew I asked Felix. I texted her about it when it happened.”
Zoey really wanted Priti to hear what happened from Kate. She didn’t want to be the man—well, the girl—in the middle.
“Priti, I know you’re mad. I would be too,” Zoey said. “But, please . . . let Kate explain what happened.”
“Are you taking her side?”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Zoey said. “You’re my best friends, and I don’t want you to be mad at each other over something Felix did.”
That piqued Priti’s curiosity. She had to know what Felix had done, no matter how upset and confused she felt about Kate. She marched over to the table where Kate and Libby were sitting and pulled out a chair, scraping it along the floor with a loud screech, just in case they didn’t realize she was mad.
“P-Priti,” Kate stammered. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you all morning.”
“Yeah, Zoey told me,” Priti said.
Kate blushed miserably.
“I’m so sorry, Priti. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“What exactly did happen?” Priti asked.
“Last night after practice, Felix came up to me and started talking. I figured it was because I was friends with you,” Kate said. “Then, out of nowhere, he asked me to the dance!”
“He what?!” Priti exclaimed. “But . . . he already said yes to me! And it’s a Vice Versa dance. That’s breaking the rules!”
“I know, right? That’s what Zoey told me this morning!” Kate said. “I can’t believe the nerve of that guy.”
Zoey was relieved that her friends seemed to be in agreement when all of a sudden Priti said, “But wait—why does Felix think you’re going to the dance with him? He’s told at least a third of the school you’re his date, and it’s only lunch.”
“Priti, you know me. I’m a total wimp,” Kate said. “I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying no to his face, so I said I’d think about it. I definitely didn’t say yes. I would never do that, because I know you like him.”
Priti’s brown eyes met Kate’s pleading blue ones across the table. Zoey and Libby held their breath, hoping everything would be okay between them.
“I wouldn’t go to the dance with that slime, anyway,” Priti said. “Anyone who asks out a girl after he’s already said yes to another doesn’t deserve a date to the dance. I’ll tell him that from you and from me.”
Kate smiled with relief. “You do that!”
“Can I watch?” Libby asked.
“Me too!” Zoey said.
“Look,” Priti said. “This whole date business is causing so many problems
—why don’t we just forget about it and be one another’s dates?”
“That’s what Marcus suggested!” Zoey exclaimed. “He said it was more chill that way.”
“I’m in,” Libby said. “I didn’t want to ask a date in the first place.”
“Count me in!” Kate said. “I bet you will be better dates than any guy—especially Felix!”
Zoey looked at her smiling friends, feeling torn. She wanted to be part of the “date” more than anything—except maybe being a guest judge on Fashion Showdown.
“I might not be able to go to the dance,” she confessed.
“What! Why?” asked Priti.
“I’ve been asked to be a guest judge on Fashion Showdown, and the taping is the day of the dance,” Zoey explained. “It doesn’t look like I’ll get back in time.”
“YOU’RE GOING TO BE ON FASHION SHOWDOWN?!” Priti exclaimed. “That’s TOTALLY AMAZING!”
“Go, Zoey!” Libby said. “Tell us everything! How did they ask you to be on the show?”
Zoey told them about the phone call from Rashida Clarke—the call she thought might have been Lorenzo calling for a date, but wasn’t.
“Fashion Showdown calling to ask you to be a judge is way better than Lorenzo, if you ask me,” Libby said.
Zoey wished she could have had both, but she continued with the story. “So, anyway, Rashida e-mailed the train tickets, and the train back from New York leaves Penn Station at six forty-five, which means there’s no way I’ll get back in time for the dance.”
“Did you tell them?” Kate asked. “Maybe if you explain, you can leave earlier.”
“She can’t do that!” Priti exclaimed. “This is the big time. It’s Fashion Showdown!”
“I haven’t asked,” Zoey said. “I’m scared that if I do, they’ll tell me not to come ’cause they’ll think I’m not professional. Just a stupid kid.”
“You’re not stupid, Zo,” Libby said. “We don’t think so. All your blog readers don’t think so.”
Zoey wondered if it was worth asking Rashida if she could leave earlier. Usually, it was so easy to keep everything separate—being Zoey Webber the seventh grader and Sew Zoey the designer. It was the first time she’d ever felt like the two parts of her were pulling her in opposite directions. Why did life have to be so complicated?
- - - - Chapter 6 - - - -
The Amazing Secret: Revealed!
Maybe I’m missing something, but if you ask me, dating seems confusing and complicated. I’m glad the girls and I have just decided to go to the dance as a group. Except . . . I might not be able to go at all.
Do you want to know why? Remember the MOST AMAZING THING IN THE WORLD I told you about in an earlier post? I can finally spill. Are you ready?
*Drumroll*
I’ve been asked to be a guest judge on FASHION SHOWDOWN ! In New York City! Can you believe it? I still can’t. It’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. How will anything top this?
The only bad part is that I’m most likely going to miss the dance. I know most people would kill to be on Fashion Showdown—me included—but I wish I didn’t have to choose.
Well, looking on the bright side, I don’t have to worry about sewing my dress anymore. But things that happened today reminded me about how great my friends are, so I wanted to make them some accessories to go with their dresses. I got the idea from Frida Kahlo’s ribbon-and-flower hair decorations. Now, if I can just make them look like they do in my mind . . . I don’t want to say more, in case they’re reading this, but I’ll post sketches when they’re all done. For now, here’s a sketch of an outfit I came up with, inspired by New York City, just for fun. Honest truth: I drew it last night to keep me from blogging about Fashion Showdown!
“Are you feeling okay, Zoey?” Mr. Webber asked at dinner on Wednesday night. “You’ve barely said a word. It’s not like you.”
“Yeah, who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Marcus said. “I’m not used to speaking in uninterrupted sentences.”
Even Marcus’s teasing couldn’t bring a smile to Zoey’s face.
“What is it, honey?” her dad asked.
“It’s the dance,” Zoey said. “And Fashion Showdown. And everything.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“Can you be a little more specific?” her father asked.
“You know Rashida sent the tickets?” Zoey said. Her father nodded. “Did you see what time the return train leaves?”
“Six forty—Oh no!” Mr. Webber exclaimed. “That means you’ll be too late for the dance.”
Zoey nodded miserably.
“That stinks,” Marcus said. “After you just bought all that stuff to make your dress.”
“It’s not just the dress.” Zoey sniffed. “It’s my friends. We decided today we were going to forget about getting dates and just go together, like Marcus said. But I’m not going to be there.”
Mr. Webber got up. “I’m going to call Ms. Clarke and see if you can take an earlier train.”
“No, Dad, don’t!” Zoey exclaimed. “What if they say I can’t be on the show?”
“I’m just posing the question, Zo. If you can take an earlier train, problem solved. If not, then you haven’t lost anything.”
“Okay. Call her. Can you do it now?”
“Sure,” her dad said. “Rashida gave me her cell number. I’ll call her right this very minute.”
Zoey couldn’t eat another bite of dinner. She was too nervous about hearing the answer to be hungry, and anyway, it would be too hard to hold her silverware with her fingers crossed.
“Hi, Rashida. It’s Jack Webber, Zoey’s father,” her dad said. “No, everything’s fine. I was just wondering if I could run something by you.”
He explained Zoey’s dilemma. “So we were wondering if there was any way Zoey and Lulu could take an earlier train.”
Zoey listened with bated breath as her father said, “Yes. . . . Uh-huh. . . . Yes . . . I understand completely. . . . Thanks, Rashida, it’s much appreciated. Zoey’s really looking forward to being on the show. Bye now.”
“Well? What did she say?” Zoey asked, uncrossing her fingers because they were starting to hurt.
“The bad news is that they really need you on set most of the day if you want to be a judge, which I’m pretty sure you do.”
Zoey’s heart sank. No dance. No dress. No date with her friends.
“The good news is they’ll try to see if they can wrap early so you and Aunt Lulu can catch an earlier train,” Mr. Webber said.
“They will?” Zoey said, jumping up and hugging her father. “That’s awesome!”
“Zo, don’t get too excited. Rashida said she’ll do her best, but she can’t make any promises. This is a major TV show, and you’ve made a commitment to be a guest judge. It’s a big honor. Part of growing up is about making choices.”
“I know.” Zoey sighed. “Why does it have to be the same day as the dance?”
“Because unfair, life is,” Marcus said in a Yoda voice.
“I just want you to have realistic expectations,” her father said.
“I won’t get excited,” Zoey promised. “I probably won’t be able to go, anyway.”
She picked up her dinner plate.
“Are you done? You’ve barely eaten anything,” said Mr. Webber.
“I’m not that hungry,” Zoey said, and went to the kitchen to drop off her plate.
Up in her room, Zoey stroked the soft velvet she’d bought for her dress. She’d been so excited to create her outfit. Now there was no point. She understood what her father said about making choices. It was just . . . she wished she could have it all.
Zoey folded the fabric neatly and put it back in the bag. Maybe someday she’d have a chance to make something special with it. She decided to bring an old dress to the show in case she made it to the dance, but she wasn’t counting on it.
For the next
few days Zoey put all her energy into putting the finishing touches on Priti’s and Kate’s dresses. She brought the dresses to school the following Monday. She was so giddy from seeing the looks on Kate’s and Priti’s faces when they saw their dresses that she floated through the day.
Gabe tapped her on the shoulder before English, but she barely noticed. “Hey, Zoey . . . ,” he said, tapping again. “Have you decided what you’re wearing to the dance yet? I need to know so I can get a corsage to match your outfit.”
Corsage? Dance? Gabe?
Zoey was confused. Why did Gabe think she was going to the dance—with him?
All of a sudden it hit her—when Ivy had said no one would want to go to the dance with Zoey . . . Gabe had said he would . . . Did that mean he’d asked her? She’d thought he was just being nice. She didn’t realize she’d said yes. And now Gabe was looking at her, waiting for the answer about what she was wearing to the dance she couldn’t even go to because she was going to be in New York, taping an episode of Fashion Showdown.
Zoey wished dances had never been invented.
“The thing is, Gabe . . . I don’t think I can go to the dance after all,” she said.
Gabe looked taken aback. “Why not?”
“I’m . . . going to be on TV. I’ve been asked to be a guest judge on a show called Fashion Showdown.”
“You’re missing the dance because you’re going to be on TV ?”
He sounded so incredulous that Zoey wondered if he thought she was making the whole thing up to get out of going to the dance with him.
“Um . . . yeah. They asked me to fill in because the original judge couldn’t make it.”
“Wow. That’s . . . cool,” Gabe said.
But Zoey sensed that he was hurt, and she felt awful. He’d stuck up for her when Ivy was being mean, and now she’d made him feel bad, even though she didn’t mean to.
“It’s one of my favorite shows. But . . . I’m really sorry about the dance, Gabe.”
Gabe shrugged. “Whatever. It’s no biggie.”
Zoey wasn’t sure which made her feel worse—hurting Gabe’s feelings or having him say it was “no biggie” that she couldn’t go with him. Not that she really wanted to go with him. She wanted to go with Lorenzo. But still . . .
