by Coco Simon
“It bothers me!” I wailed again. (And I know it mostly bothered me because of what Callie said. But right then, it honestly felt like the thing that bothered me most in the world because I had seen it for myself.)
“All right, Katie. If it’s bothering you, I can show you how to do it when we get home.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I said, and then I looked out the window, suddenly feeling awkward. Did I really want to shave my legs? Because everybody says that once you start doing it, you have to do it all the time. And that sounded totally annoying.
But I figured I might as well do it, especially since everybody else was.
“We’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way home, and I’ll get you your own razor,” Mom said. “They make them with the soap already in it, and I think it’s an easy way to get started.”
Then I thought of something. “Can you get me some deodorant, too?”
Mom nodded and looked at me sideways. “Sure. That’s probably a good idea now that it’s getting warmer. I should have thought of that.” It’s weird because Mom generally knows everything, or at least that’s how it seems to me. I wondered why it didn’t even occur to her to tell me some of this stuff.
We picked up a razor—the kind with the shaving soap surrounding the blade—refills for when the blade dulls, and some deodorant at the pharmacy near our house. When we got home, we went into the bathroom, and she showed me how to do a small part of my leg very slowly. Mom is totally into safety, so she was all business about paying attention and not doing it quickly so I wouldn’t accidentally cut myself. Since I don’t do too well with blood, I was a little hesitant as I held the razor, but I went up in a straight line slowly, just like she showed me. I thought maybe it would hurt, but I didn’t really feel anything at all.
“Okay, I got it,” I said. “I can do it in the shower, right?”
“Exactly,” Mom said, and then she hugged me. “My little girl is growing up.” She was a little teary.
I groaned. “Get out of here, please!” I begged.
Mom left quickly, and I took my shower. I used the razor thing like Mom showed me, and it seemed to work okay except there was a lot of fuzz in the razor. It kind of grossed me out. I washed my hair and kept checking my legs, seeing how unwolfy they were now. I stepped out of the shower.
As I wrapped a big towel around myself, I looked down at my legs. My left knee was bleeding! It wasn’t bleeding when I was in the shower! I sort of panicked. I grabbed a tissue and stuck it to where I was cut. Then I ran downstairs to the kitchen, freaking out.
“Mom! My knee is bleeding! I’m—”
I froze. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table—with Jeff!
“Aaaaahhhhh!” I screamed. There I was, wearing nothing but a big towel and a tissue stuck to my bloody knee. How embarrassing! I turned around and ran upstairs to my room as fast as I could.
A minute later, I heard a knock on my door.
“Can I come in?” Mom asked. “It’s just me.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Katie, I’m so sorry,” Mom said. “Jeff stopped by to surprise us and to see if he could take us out to lunch. I should have told you he was here.”
I still felt totally mortified and miserable. “Yeah.”
Mom looked at my knee. “I see you nicked yourself. That happens sometimes. It’s nothing to worry about. The blood looks worse because it mixes with the water. See?”
She gently patted the cut with the tissue, and when she took if off, my knee looked totally fine.
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Thanks.”
We both looked at my legs. Besides that one cut and a few little patches I missed, they seemed pretty smooth.
“You did a good job,” said Mom. I looked down at them again and admired my legs. They looked shiny and definitely not like a werewolf.
“So, do you want to go out to lunch now?” Mom asked.
I thought about having to face Jeff again and made a face. “I’m not sure.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Mom said. “Remember, Jeff is a dad. You were covered up. And he wants to take us to Sweet Sally’s.”
I perked up. Sweet Sally’s has awesome milk shakes.
“I guess I can go,” I said bravely. “Just give me a minute.”
Mom smiled. “That’s my girl.”
I came downstairs a few minutes later with my hair still damp and wearing jeans—not shorts.
“Sorry to surprise you like that, Katie,” Jeff said, with a smile that was not awkward at all, and it made me feel okay again.
“No problem,” I said.
Then we went to Sweet Sally’s, which is this really cute little restaurant that sells sandwiches and ice cream. The walls and seat cushions are pink, so it’s like a pink explosion when you go in there. I don’t mind the pink so much because the milk shakes are the best ever.
“So, how’s the track team going?” Jeff asked.
“Pretty good,” I replied. “I’m a little worried, though, because we’re still doing, like, drills, and our first meet is really soon.”
“Katie, did you send me your meet schedule yet?” Mom asked.
I picked up my phone. “Not yet. But I have it.”
I clicked on my in-box, found the meet schedule Coach Goodman had sent us, and forwarded it to my mom. She picked up her phone and read it.
“Oh wow, there’s a meet the day after my birthday,” Mom said. “What a nice way to start my day.”
I smiled at her. “Cool! It’ll be like a whole birthday weekend.”
Mom and I have a tradition on her birthday. Every year, we go to the Golden Wing Chinese restaurant and get the pupu platter for two. (It’s this tiered tray with all this awesome food, like mini egg rolls and barbecued ribs, and there’s a flame on top where you can heat stuff up.) Then we go to the Twisted Cone for ice-cream sundaes, and they always put a sparkler in her sundae and sing “Happy Birthday to You.” Then we go home and watch her favorite movie, The Wizard of Oz. (We always scream when we see the winged monkeys. They freak both of us out!) It’s one of my favorite days of the year.
Mom stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said and then headed to the restroom.
As soon as she walked away, Jeff leaned across the table. He had a serious look on his face.
“Katie, I need your help,” he said.
“Um, sure,” I replied.
“It’s about your mom’s birthday,” he said. “I’m planning on throwing her a surprise party.”
I was definitely surprised to hear that. “You are?”
Jeff nodded. “I got a room at her favorite restaurant and invited some friends, and they’re going to decorate the room with her favorite flowers,” he said. “I’m so excited! And I need your help getting her there on her birthday.”
“On her birthday?” I asked.
“That night,” Jeff said. “So what do you say? Can you help me?”
“Well, um,” I said. “It’s just that, we do this—Yeah, I guess.”
I probably should have told Jeff right then that Mom and I had special plans that night. That we have the same plans every year. I was kind of mad he had made these other plans without even telling me first. But he looked so excited, and he had made all the arrangements already, and it sounded nice. . . . I was mad at him and felt sorry for him and sad for me at the same time.
“Thanks, Katie!” Jeff said, and he looked so happy. Then Mom came back and sat down.
“What were you two talking about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said, and then I took a long, loud sip of my strawberry milk shake. Jeff winked at me, and I looked away.
Now I was just plain mad at him. My day with Mom on her birthday was now totally ruined!
CHAPTER 5
Did He Mean It?
Katie, you have practice after school today, right?” Emma asked me at lunch the following Thursday.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She reached into her backpack
and pulled out a hair elastic. “Sit next to me! I’m going to put your hair in a French braid. That way your hair won’t get all messy when you run.”
I sighed. “I can’t stop you, can I?”
Emma grinned. “No.”
“You’ll look nice with a French braid,” Mia said. “Plus, your hair will be out of your face when you’re running.”
“That’s what my scrunchie’s for,” I protested, moving to the seat next to Emma.
“Your scrunchie has a bunny rabbit pattern on it,” Mia said, like that was a bad thing.
“Hey, I love bunnies!” I said.
“So did I, when I was five,” Mia shot back. “Now sit still for Emma.”
“I am not your pet!” I said dramatically.
Emma stood behind me and pulled my hair back with her hands. She started brushing it out.
“Ow!” I cried.
Alexis looked up from the book she was reading. “Let me guess. Knots?”
“I can’t help it,” I said. “I can brush and brush my hair, and then five minutes later it’s all in knots.”
“I don’t mind,” Emma said. “I don’t have any sisters I can do this with. It’s kind of fun.”
After Emma got all of the knots out, she started pulling at my hair and separating it into strands.
“Are you done yet?” I asked impatiently.
“Not yet,” Emma replied.
Mia started dangling a pencil in front of me face. “I will distract you,” she said. “Just look at the pencil. Take deep breaths.”
I giggled. “That’s silly,” I said. But then I actually found myself staring at the pencil moving back and forth, back and forth. . . .
“All done,” Emma said.
She sat back down. My whole head felt weirdly tight.
Mia held out a mirror. “Oh, Katie, it’s adorable. Look!”
All I could see was a face—my face, with hair pulled back so tightly that it looked like I was practically bald.
“Um, yeah. . . .” I wasn’t sure what to say.
“The back is the best part,” Emma said. “Too bad you can’t see it. But trust me, it came out perfectly.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it exactly, but my friends seemed to like it. So I thanked Emma, and then lunch was over.
My head felt weird for the rest of the day. I’m sure I was probably blowing it up in my mind or whatever, but I couldn’t help it. And I was sure everyone was staring at my hair.
After school, I went right to the locker room to change for practice. I walked past Callie on the way in.
She smiled at me. “Your hair looks really nice today, Katie.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Emma did it.”
For some weird reason, it made me mad that Callie said she liked my hair. Probably because it was just a reminder that she didn’t like my hair the way I usually wore it.
Stop thinking about your stupid hair, Katie! I told myself. I was starting to wonder if I was becoming obsessed—obsessed with hair. The hair on my legs. The hair on my head. A week ago, I wasn’t thinking about any kind of hair at all. What was happening to me? Aargh!
“Nice hair, Katie.”
It was Natalie. And she had such a genuine smile on her face that I couldn’t even be annoyed.
“Thanks,” I said. “So, do you think we’ll be skipping and kicking our own butts again today?”
Natalie laughed. “I hope not.”
I changed for practice, making sure to put on the deodorant that Mom had bought for me. I noticed I wasn’t the only girl doing that, so I didn’t feel so weird.
My legs were smooth. My hair was pulled back so tightly that my eyeballs were an inch closer to my ears. My armpits smelled as fresh as a spring morning.
Okay, practice, I’m ready for you! I thought. Or maybe I should have thought, I’m ready for you, George!
When we got outside, I saw that today’s practice was going to be different. There was a lot more equipment on the field—the bars for the high jump, and the barriers for the hurdles, and stuff like that. And there were two more coaches.
“This is Mr. Parker, Zoe’s dad,” said Coach Goodman, pointing to a neat-looking guy with close-cropped brown hair. “This is Mrs. Lopez, Belinda’s mom.”
Mrs. Lopez had a friendly smile and wore her dark hair in a ponytail. She waved at us.
“And they have volunteered to be my assistant coaches,” Coach Goodman went on. “Today, we’ll start with some warm-ups and some form, and then we’ll let you guys try some different events. Okay?”
“Yeah!” we cheered.
So we warmed up as usual, and we did do some skipping and other stuff, but only for a little bit. Then Coach Goodman started splitting us up.
“Katie, Hana, Zoe! Go see Mrs. Lopez about long distance,” she told us.
The three of us jogged over to Mrs. Lopez, who was waiting for us on the bleachers.
“Nice to meet you girls,” she said. “I know Hana already.”
“I’m Katie,” I offered.
“And I’m Zoe,” Zoe said.
I glanced over at Zoe. All I really knew about her was that she was friendly with Callie. Which could mean she was nice, or it could mean she was a popular girl with a mean streak. It was hard to tell which one she was just by looking at her. She had pretty, thick, brown hair pulled back with a white headband, and some woven bracelets on her wrist. Her running shoes looked like they were brand new.
“So, Coach Goodman says you three might be good for the long-distance races,” Mrs. Lopez went on. “Those are the 800-meters, which is about a half mile, and the 1,600-meters, which is about a mile.”
“No sweat,” Zoe said confidently. “I run three miles a day already.”
“And I do too. Well, not every day, but a few times a week,” I piped up.
Mrs. Lopez nodded. “Great. These races are all about endurance plus speed. For now, Coach Goodman wants you to start with a fifteen-minute run around the track. Sound okay?”
We nodded.
“Great,” said Mrs. Lopez. “Don’t worry about speed right now.”
We made our way to the track and began to run. Hana and I started off with a fairly slow run, but Zoe quickly darted past us.
“Think she can keep that up for fifteen minutes?” Hana asked.
“We’ll see,” I said. I guessed Zoe was pretty competitive.
It felt really good to run, except for the fact that my French braid kept bouncing against the back of my neck. Thump . . . Thump . . . Thump . . . It was driving me crazy!
After about five minutes, Zoe started to slow down, and Hana and I caught up to her. Then we all pretty much kept the same pace, running in step. Zoe looked over at me.
“Maybe we’ll get to do a practice race,” she said.
“Yeah, I hope so,” I replied. The thought of running a real race without practicing first made me nervous.
Thump . . . Thump . . . Thump . . .
Finally, we passed Mrs. Lopez, and she called out to us. “One more time around the track, girls!”
We picked up the pace a little, and just before we got back to Mrs. Lopez again, Zoe zipped ahead. Then she raised her arms above her head.
“Woooo!” she cheered.
“Nice form out there,” Mrs. Lopez told us. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling like I can’t stand this braid anymore,” I replied, and then I yanked off the elastic and pulled the braid apart as best as I could. That was about when the boys’ team ran out onto the field.
“Hey, look, it’s Medusa!” George called out, pointing at me.
Medusa is that woman in Greek mythology who had her hair turned into snakes by the goddess Athena. Leave it to George to think of something clever like that to say about my crazy hair. I noticed Zoe was laughing, so I guess I wasn’t the only one who got it.
I pulled at my hair. “Stand back, or they’ll bite!”
George ran up to me. “Hey, good to see you,” he said, and my heart
fluttered a little bit.
“Hi, George,” Zoe said. “So you know Katie?”
“Of course I do,” George said. “Since kindergarten. Katie and I are like . . . friends.”
He didn’t say girlfriend, and I guess I understood why. George and I had never said we were boyfriend and girlfriend, and my mom has that whole “no boyfriend” thing. But somehow it still bothered me that he didn’t say it.
“Okay. See you,” Zoe said, and walked away.
“All right, well, have a good practice,” I said to George, and started to leave.
“Hey,” he said. “Do you want to, maybe, hang out on Saturday?”
“Well, I have this cupcake thing right around lunch,” I said. “Maybe after that?”
“Sure,” said George. “I’ll text you. Tame your snakes before we go, though, okay?”
“Ha-ha,” I said, but I felt myself blush. Was he just teasing, or did he really mean it? Was he embarrassed to be around me and my crazy hair? I couldn’t tell.
Track practice was starting to get hard after all—and it had nothing to do with running!
CHAPTER 6
Cake Pops Confusion
Remind me to braid your hair again the next time you have practice,” Emma said at lunch the next day.
“No, thanks,” I said. “It looked nice and everything, but I didn’t like how it felt. It kept bouncing against my neck.”
“Well, I could try starting the braid higher up,” Emma offered.
I shook my head. “That’s all right. I’ll stick with my scrunchie.”
Emma looked kind of upset that I’d turned her down—a little too upset since we were only talking about a dumb braid. I was going to ask her about it, but Alexis started talking cupcake business.
“Everyone can help bake Friday night for the library event, right?” she asked.
Emma, Mia, and I nodded.
“And my dad is bringing me out on Saturday to do the library thing with Katie, so she doesn’t have to do it alone,” Mia said.
“Thanks,” I said gratefully. I know Mia loves the weekends she spends in Manhattan with her dad, and she was doing me a big favor by spending the day here. Emma and Alexis were both busy on Saturday and couldn’t help out.
