by Lisa Yee
Ohmygosh, he was totally to die for! He looked like a really tall movie star, only better. His hair was shaved close to his head, but I think it was light brown. His eyes were greenish-gray, he was wearing a basketball shirt and shorts, and he had the lean muscles of a total jock. I couldn’t help gawking at him. Before I knew what was happening, I heard myself saying, “Do you like Cheetos? I love Cheetos, they are so crunchy and yummy.”
Crunchy and yummy?
He looked at me like I was a scary person, but my mouth kept going. “The thing about Cheetos is that their bags are always puffy. Have you noticed that? I used to think they were trying to cheat us, but really it’s so the Cheetos don’t get smashed. I saw that on the Food Network. Do you like TV? I hate it when all that’s left in the bottom of the chip bags are little pieces, don’t you?”
The boy blinked a few times, then reached for the Doritos.
“Oh! Doritos. I love those too. Can you get a bag for me, please? They are so tall. I mean, you are so tall. I mean, I can’t reach because I am so tall….”
He handed me the bag, got one for himself, then strolled away in silence.
Oooooh, on a scale of one to ten, I would have rated him a 100! I can’t wait to tell Millicent about him.
I grabbed the Cheetos and ran to the checkout line, almost crashing into the Brillo pyramid. Sadly, I was too late. He was gone. This girl Wendy from volleyball was standing near the shopping carts with her mouth hanging open. When she saw me, we grinned at each other, both appreciating what we had just seen.
If this is what the boys in Rancho Rosetta look like, then I think I’m going to like it here after all.
When I got home, Alice chided me. “Emily, next time you leave the house, at least leave me a note so I know where you are.”
“The sleepover is on, right?” I asked.
“It’s on. Oh, and there’s some mail for you,” Alice said, gesturing to the kitchen table.
It was your postcard from Boston. Hoorah! The Hotel Stambler looks really nice and classy. I can’t believe you had a butler on your floor! It sounds like you’re having a lot of fun. I’m finally starting to have some fun too.
Love,
Emily!!!
JULY 2
Dear Dad,
I was so happy this afternoon because today was the day my very first friend from Rancho Rosetta was coming to sleep over. Then I walked into the kitchen and it was as if I stepped into a horror movie.
“What are you wearing??!!!” I screamed.
Alice twirled around. She was wearing a long patchwork skirt, a tie-dyed top, a floppy hat, and ugly sandals. “Do you like it?”
“Where did you get that? Don’t tell me they sell those kinds of clothes in Rancho Rosetta!”
“The hat was a gift from Libby, and the rest was from eBay, where else?”
Of course. Alice does everything by computer. It’s her best and only friend. I just wish her friend would tell her how dumb she looks.
“I think it looks good,” Alice said defensively. “It’s vintage.”
“‘Vintage’ just means used,” I muttered.
She ignored me. “I admire the hippies and their relaxed attitude toward life. Unhampered by rules and regulations, the flower children were able to love and be loved freely. Look!” she said, holding out her hand. “It’s a mood ring.”
“It’s black.”
“Well, yes, I’m a little tense right now.”
“Not as tense as I am.” I have a guest coming over and my mother is dressed for Halloween. This is worse than the time you told her you really liked curly hair, and she went out and got that perm that made her head look like a big fuzz ball.
I headed outside to wait for Millicent, but to my surprise she was just getting out of her mom’s car. I ran up to her. “Oh, Millie!” I cried. “I’m so excited! You’re my very first guest!”
A barefoot Alice headed toward Mrs. Min. Before she could embarrass me any further, I rushed Millie into the house.
She came inside, stopped, and stared at the piles of books still on the floor. Then she looked at Alice’s awards on the fireplace mantel.
“Millicent, your mother is so nice,” Alice said a few minutes later as she shut the door. Millie was still gawking. “Oh! Please forgive me for all the books. I just haven’t gotten around to organizing yet.”
I worried that Millie would bolt, but instead she exclaimed, “You’re Alice X. Ebers, the journalist?”
Millicent Min had heard of my mother? How weird was that?
“Yes, I’m that Alice X. Ebers.” She looked pleased with herself. “Although around here I’m just plain Alice. You know of my work?”
“My mom mentioned that you wrote,” she said. “What are you working on now?” Millie was really good at faking interest in Alice. Good strategy, I thought. Get her on your side.
“Well, I just finished up a feature called ‘What Happened to All of the Hippies?’ Tomorrow I start a new article tentatively titled ‘The Bard of Brooklyn’ and I’m also working on some investigative pieces, including one about young millionaires called ‘Eight Enterprising Entrepreneurs.’”
Snooze alert! Snooze alert! Snooze alert!
“We gotta go!” I grabbed Millicent by the arm. “Come on, this way!”
As I gave her the tour, I pretended that I was you at an Open House.
“Twenty-eight-hundred square feet, two fireplaces, and four bedrooms, two with walk-in closets,” I told Millie. “Here’s a generously sized living room with fireplace number one, and a family room with the second fireplace. There are three bathrooms, a washer and dryer, plus all-new stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen and a sprinkler system in the backyard.”
“This place is huge!” Millie said.
“Yeah. It’s a lot bigger than our old house, but I like that one better,” I admitted, “even though it was falling apart.”
“We live in a mail-order house from Sears,” Millie said. “It’s really small and decrepit. My mother keeps saying, ‘It has character,’ which means, ‘We can’t afford anything else right now.’”
“Wow, you can get houses from department stores? I’ve always thought it would be cool to live in a department store, or better yet, a mall!”
“I’ve read about a mall that has condos in it.”
“No way!”
When Alice called out, “Girls, time for dinner!” I couldn’t believe three hours had flown by. It was so much fun talking to Millicent Min. Alice thought so too. Millie sat across from her and kept asking questions, then actually listening to the answers! I can tell she’s one of those kids who’s good with grown-ups.
“It’s fascinating that you’re a journalist,” Millie said as she reached for the pepper. Alice had made microwave dinners, her new specialty. I warned her ahead of time that Millicent was a vegetarian, so she nuked some mushroom thing for her.
“Well, I really love my job. I’m lucky. Not a lot of people can say that.”
“What do you like about it?” Millie asked, putting a sincere look on her face.
“Excellent question! Let me think.” Alice set down her fork and smiled at Millicent. “The truth,” she finally answered. “My mentor at Columbia, John Vandercook, used to say, ‘A journalist’s mission is to uncover the truth and then tell it, even if it’s not what people want to hear.’ Sometimes I write about popular culture, other times about unpopular topics no one really wants to consider. But through it all, I always strive to reveal the truth.”
“Wow,” Millicent said without cracking up. “That’s so cool.”
Alice mistook her sarcasm for interest and beamed. I hadn’t seen her this happy since … since … well, I can’t even remember when. Then, unprompted, she dished out a long and totally mind-numbing history of her journalism career. Finally, Millie tried to change the subject by asking, “What brought you to Rancho Rosetta?”
“I wrote an article on the top
one hundred places to raise children,” Alice said, glancing my way. “Rancho Rosetta was in the top twenty-five, and I just fell in love with it. I love research, it makes life so much more orderly.”
I tried not to snicker. This statement was coming from a woman dressed in clashing patterns and wearing a silly hat.
“I agree.” Millie nodded. “It must be so neat to have you for a mom.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Alice smiled at me. “Is it neat to have me as a mom?”
Nothing like being put on the spot. What was I supposed to say? That it’s neat to be uprooted from all your friends and the only life you’ve ever known? That it’s neat to have a mom who divorces your dad and drags you clear across the country? That it’s neat never knowing if she’s going to be crying or laughing?
Both Millie and Alice were waiting for my answer.
“I dunno,” I said. “You’re my mom, just a regular mom.”
Alice’s smile wavered slightly before she jumped up and ran out of the room. Millie looked puzzled. I shrugged and took another bite of chicken.
A moment later, Alice returned.
“I thought you girls might like this. I just bought it this afternoon in your honor, Millicent.”
“Not again,” I moaned as I waved away the smoke. “Alice, you know I hate that stuff.”
(Sorry, Dad. I know you love incense, but I still can’t stand it.)
I tried not to gag. Millie tried not to cough. Alice and I engaged in a stare-down through the haze.
Finally, Millicent made a joke to break the tension. “In my family we do not smoke marijuana, not even for medicinal purposes.”
“Nor do we,” Alice said. “It’s against the law, you know. However, I hope you have no objection to sandalwood incense.”
“That’s not marijuana?” Millie said.
“Emily!” Alice said as she burst out laughing. “Your friend is so funny. What a great sense of humor!”
At last, dinner ended. Before Alice could bore us with more facts about hippies and “their resolve to lead happier, more carefree lives, predicated on peace and love,” I resolved to rescue Millie, and we made a hasty retreat to my room.
“These are my stuffed animals,” I said proudly. She looked impressed with my collection. “You stand still,” I directed, “while I make Shamu swim around you, okay? Shamu loves to swim around rocky shores.”
“Is this considered normal?” Millicent asked. She was seriously good at standing still. “I mean, is this a regular sleepover activity?”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “Borrr-ing! Let’s do something else. Do you like beads? Everyone likes beads. I love beads! Oh yes, let’s bead.”
I brought out my new plastic bead kit, the one you bought me last week with the “forty-two new and exciting designs!!!” I made my necklace really fast, but Millie took forever.
“Wow!” I exclaimed when she finally held up her masterpiece. Millicent had made a pattern using different colors, animal beads, and a peace symbol. You could tell she had done this before. My necklace was just random colors in random order.
“It’s beautiful!” I told Millie. “Oh! I know! We should exchange necklaces as a sign of good luck and friendship.” When she hesitated, I quickly added, “Unless you don’t want to. I mean, yours is so pretty, and mine’s just colors.”
Millicent looked at her necklace. “It’s just that I made this … and … and … why not? Yes! Let’s exchange them.”
I couldn’t wait to put on the necklace Millie made. It was like the exchange sealed our friendship. I’ve never even done that with Nicole or A.J., although once we all bought the same bracelet except in different colors with different charms on them.
Just as we were trying to figure out what to do next, Alice called us into the living room. She had made popcorn and sprinkled Tabasco sauce on it, the way you like it. We were about to take the popcorn into my room when I heard the words that sent chills down my spine.
“Hey, ladies, this song is for the magnificent Millicent Min….”
I turned around and released a silent scream as Alice brought the microphone up to her mouth. Dad, why didn’t you take your karaoke machine with you? With every bad note Alice hit, I died a thousand deaths. And she hit a lot of bad notes.
“Come on, Millie, sing along,” Alice shouted over the music.
Millicent rose cautiously.
“You don’t have to do it,” I yelled. I don’t think she heard me.
I watched in horror as Alice forced Millie to sing. They started with the Rolling Stones’ song “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” and every time they got to the word “jumpin’,” Alice would jump. When it became clear that Millicent really didn’t know any of the words, that didn’t stop Alice. Out of nowhere she produced her K-K-KRAZY FOR KARAOKE book of lyrics. Millicent pored over it and settled on “Strawberry Fields Forever” by the Beatles. “Oh!” Alice said. “Very 1960s. Very hippie-ish!”
As she sang, and Alice danced in her geeky, jerky way, I wondered if Millicent would ever want to come to my house again.
Before we went to sleep I told her, “I am soooooo sorry.”
“Whatever for?” Millie had chosen the bottom bunk.
“My mom is so weird. I can’t believe she forced you to sing with her. And I hate incense. It makes me ill. I think she goes out of her way to embarrass me.”
“Really? I thought she was cool.”
“You do?” I was soooo relieved.
“Truly.”
“Oh Millie, you’re the one who’s too cool!”
I guess good can come out of volleyball.
Love,
Emily
JULY 3
Dear Dad,
As soon as Millie got home I called her.
“Hi Millicent, it’s me!”
“Me who?”
“You weirdo, it’s me, Emily!”
“I thought it was you!”
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you’re the first person I’m putting on my speed dial.”
“Really? Wow! Okay, I’m going to put you on our speed dial too.”
“Okay, good-bye!”
“Bye, Emily, talk to you later!”
The instant I hung up the phone, it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me, Millicent L. Min, from volleyball.”
“Millie?”
“Just checking to see if the speed dial works. Okay, good-bye!”
Isn’t she just the funniest person you’ve ever heard of? Just thinking about Millie makes me smile.
Love,
Emily
JULY 4
Dear Dad,
Tonight was the big fireworks show. I called Millie and invited her to go with us but she had to do something with her parents. I hope she’s not getting tired of me. Sometimes she acts a little strange, like she’s holding back, and it makes me wonder if I’m being too forward.
“Alice, if we’re going to see the fireworks, we have to leave soon.”
“In a minute, in a minute,” she kept saying, like it was some sort of chant. One hour (that would be sixty “in-a-minutes”) later we left the house. The park was pretty crowded, but no one seemed to mind. Some people brought lawn chairs. Lots were wearing Uncle Sam hats. I was glad I had BeDazzled my T-shirt with red and blue gems. Alice wore cutoff jeans and some sort of flowy flowery gauze top. I prayed that it would get dark soon and no one would see me with her.
A boy with a huge mass of curly dark hair walked past us selling sparklers. Alice said he was an enterprising entrepreneur and wanted to talk to him, but I stopped her before she could hassle him.
Just then the speakers crackled and everyone sang “The Star-Spangled Banner.” I could not believe how loud Alice was. Why does she even bother to sing? You’re the singer in the family.
Remember that Fourth of July at the beach when I was little? There was a full moon and we stretched a
blanket across the sand. Alice got cold, so you hugged her to warm her up. Then I snuggled between both of you and we watched the fireworks together.
Tonight I imagined that wherever you were, you were looking up in the sky too. And even though we might not have seen the same fireworks, at least we were admiring the same moon.
Love,
Emily
JULY 5
Dear Dad,
Millie is determined to be my personal Rancho Rosetta tour guide. Today after volleyball she announced, “This afternoon’s field trip will be to the Rialto movie theater!”
I was happy to get away from volleyball. It’s becoming pretty clear that I’m lousy at it. Coach Gowin and Julie keep shaking their heads when I mess up. The only person worse than me is Millie, though I would never tell her that. She doesn’t seem to notice how bad she is. When people make fun of her, it’s like she can’t hear them. One time, though, Millicent almost got the ball over the net, and Wendy, the nice girl, complimented her on it. I know Millie heard that because she couldn’t stop smiling.
“What movies are playing?” I asked as we walked out of the gym into the sunlight. It was so bright I was almost blinded.
“Just one,” she said. “It’s a Marx Brothers classic called A Day at the Races.”
Can you believe it? A movie theater that shows only one movie!
The Rialto looked really old and run-down on the outside, but the inside was incredible.
“Where’s Maddie?” the ticket seller asked.
“She’s got her yoga class,” Millie explained. “This is my friend Emily.”
As we headed into the theater, the ticket seller raced past us and stood at the door. We handed her our tickets and she tore them in half, then beat us to the concession stand.
“What can I get for you?”
“The regular, times two,” Millie told her.
“Millie, shall I just put this on your tab?” she asked as she handed over popcorn and sodas.
“Yes, please.”
How cool is that?
The theater was practically empty, so we sat right in the very middle. I looked up. There was a mural of angels on the ceiling. Suddenly, the red velvet drapes parted, and I was so startled that I almost forgot how lumpy the seats felt.
