by Chloe Taylor
“Uh-oh . . . ,” said Zoey when the grand total was tallied.
She looked at Aunt Lulu, who took out her wallet and shrugged.
“Looks like you’ll be dog-sitting for me for the rest of your life, huh?” she said. “Don’t worry, Zoey, it’s my treat.”
- - - - Chapter 5 - - - -
My Sewing Saga
Beware, whoever is out there reading this, I might have to change the name of this blog from “Sew Zoey” to “Not Sew Zoey” if my sewing skills don’t improve soon. My Sewing Saga goes like this: It started yesterday, when I discovered my own slice of heaven, a.k.a. better than Disneyland, a.k.a. Willy Wonka’s Fabric Factory. Did you guess? (Spoiler alert: My aunt took me to the fabric store.) I’ve never seen so many pretty things in one place! I also got a nice vocab lesson—the sewing word of the day is “notions.” I wonder who came up with that one!
Then, when I got home from the store, I started working on a project. The thing is, I accidentally sewed the shirt I was WEARING to the skirt I was trying to make. (Thanks, Aunt Lulu, for telling me to tuck in my shirt next time!) And that’s not all: I just accidentally destroyed my bedspread cutting some fabric for some extremely cute— (Oops! I almost forgot! They’re surprises. Never mind! Moving on!) Anyhoo, let this be a lesson to any aspiring fashion designers out there: Do not, I repeat, do not, under any circumstances cut out patterns on your bed (like I did)! Trust me, it’s a Fashion Emergency just waiting to happen.
On the other hand, the bedspread is (was?) kind of awesome. Maybe I can salvage the material so it isn’t a complete waste. I’m totally channeling Maria from The Sound of Music, right? When she made outfits for the von Trapp family out of old curtains? All I can say is I’m going to be wearing a lot of stripes this year! Stay tuned, fashion fans. . . . And while you’re waiting, check out my latest sketches: a button dress and a chalkboard dress that could be written on in chalk!
PS For inspiration, I just re-watched the greatest documentary ever about Daphne Shaw, my favorite designer and sewing genius. (If you haven’t seen it, promise you will! It’s amazing.)
“There you are!”
“What took you so long?”
Kate ran up with Priti and they both greeted Zoey with a warm, chlorinated hug. They’d been waiting for her impatiently outside the girls’ dressing room at the pool. Zoey hugged them back, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the sun.
Priti, meanwhile, took a second to stroke the sleeve of Zoey’s cover-up. “This is so cute!”
Kate cocked her head. “It looks familiar. . . .”
Priti clapped. “Oh! I know where it’s from! I read your blog this morning.”
Zoey blushed.
“It’s from your bedspread! Gosh! You mean you made it?” Kate twirled her finger as a signal for Zoey to turn around. “What’d your dad say?”
“He was just glad I didn’t cut myself,” Zoey said, relieved. “So, what do you think?” she asked, doing another little twirl.
Priti crossed her arms. “It’s adorable! I love it! I can’t believe you made that.”
“I can’t either,” Zoey said. “You know, I never thought I’d love sewing this much. The other night I was so focused on making this work that I completely forgot to watch the new episode of Fashion Showdown.”
“Oh, it was a really good one too!” Priti said. “Let me know when you’re caught up so we can talk about it.”
Zoey really had been sewing all the time for the last few weeks. She would text her friends with pictures of her latest creations—and they were also reading all about them on Sew Zoey every day. They loved how excited she was, but they also missed hanging out with her, and she could tell. She missed them too. After all, school would be starting soon, and the countdown to the end of summer had officially begun.
“I’m glad you took a break to come to the pool!” Kate said.
“I know, I’m sorry I’ve been MIA,” Zoey said. “But I promise I’ll make the next few weeks count. Plus, I have a surprise for you. . . .”
She reached into the tote bag on her shoulder and took out two neatly folded bundles. She hoped they would help her friends realize she hadn’t forgotten them while she was busy blogging and sewing. She handed one to Priti and the other one to Kate and waited while they unwrapped the packages.
“Whoa!” Kate gasped as she realized that it was a cover-up too. “Did you make this for me?”
It was the same simple minidress style as Zoey’s, but the resemblance pretty much ended there. Zoey’s was made out of the pink-and-white-striped bedspread fabric, with the stripes going vertically in the middle and horizontal on the sides. Kate’s, on the other hand, had a red terry-cloth body and three silver racing stripes going down each side.
“Do you like it?” Zoey asked her. “I made it the colors of the swim team so if you wanted to, you could wear it to swim meets.”
“I know!” Kate said. “I love it!”
Zoey turned to Priti, who was admiring her own cover-up, which looked completely different, even though it was the same shape. Priti’s was made out of a semi-sheer turquoise fabric with not one or two but three layers of matching fringe along the hem. Priti held it up by the shoulders and gave it a little shake. Then she slipped it over her head and wiggled her hips.
“Thank you, Zoey! It’s amazing!”
“Do you forgive me?” Zoey asked.
“Yes! Totally!” Priti and Kate said, giving Zoey hugs.
Then Priti added, “As long as you’ll forgive us for sometimes giving you a hard time for sewing so much. We just missed seeing you.”
Kate put her cover-up on too, and they started across the concrete deck.
“We saved some chairs in the good corner,” said Priti, pointing to the primo spot near the deep end. Not only did the chairs face north instead of into the sun, they were far from the kiddie pool—a.k.a. “no-man’s land.”
“Oh good,” said Zoey, looking around. “Wow, it’s crowded today, huh?”
She hadn’t been to the pool in more than two weeks. She’d wanted to come last weekend, but both days there were thunderstorms. In the end, though, she hadn’t minded because it meant she could stay home—and sew and design clothes to her heart’s content. That was when she’d worked on the surprises for Priti and Kate.
Zoey had always loved the pool. But this summer was different. Zoey and her friends were getting too old to play Marco Polo or Sharks and Minnows in the shallow end now—and yet, every forty-five minutes, they still had to climb out of the deep end for “adult swim.” Days at the pool felt hot . . . and slow.
It was different for Kate, who had her swim team friends. And for Priti too, who never got tired of reading and was even known to take her book into the pool. They also didn’t seem as bothered by something else that, for Zoey, had started to take some fun out of the scene: the whole parading-around-in-a-bathing-suit thing. Ugh! Honestly, she’d rather wear her old uniform than a bathing suit—even a one-piece. For that reason too her brand-new cover-up was a truly marvelous thing.
“Excuse me, girls?”
Zoey and her friends turned to see a young woman with huge, glamorous sunglasses looking up from her lounge chair.
“Yes?” They looked at one another, then back at the lady. Was she talking to them?
“I just had to ask you. . . .” She slid her sunglasses up and perched them on the top of her glossy red hair. “Where did you get those adorable cover-ups? They’re fabulous!” she said.
The girls looked at one another again, this time stifling laughs.
“Oh, these?” Priti tossed her hair back and shifted her shoulders to make her fringe sway. “These were custom made for us.”
Kate and Zoey laughed a little bit until they saw the woman’s expression. She didn’t realize Priti was being silly.
“What a shame,” said the woman, sighing as she pulled her sunglasses back down.
“Actually, it’s amazing,” Kate said. “She made them.” She pointed
to Zoey, who began to blush.
“Really?” They could see the woman’s brows jump from surprise behind her glasses. “Wow!” She crossed her arms in front of her metallic bikini top. “You are so talented!”
“Thanks!” said Zoey. She gave her friends a wide-eyed look that said can you believe this is really happening? and then followed their lead as they continued toward their chairs.
TWWWEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Suddenly the blast of a whistle shot down from the lifeguard stand. Zoey looked up to see her brother, Marcus, standing up from his chair. He was aiming both pointer fingers at a boy who looked about six. “You’re benched!” he shouted at him, letting his whistle fall to his chest. “Yes, you,” he went on as the boy looked innocently around. “I saw you push that girl. Twenty minutes on the deck.”
Marcus’s Ray-Bans followed the boy as he climbed out of the water and sat down by his mother. Zoey couldn’t tell if Marcus had seen her. Her brother was fine when they were home—probably better than the average brother, in fact. But now that he was a lifeguard, he was—to put it mildly—utterly oblivious to her. He took his first job really seriously and always kept his eyes on the pool. Sometimes Zoey wondered if people who didn’t know them would even guess that they were related, let alone siblings.
They did look alike. They both had the same dark brown hair and the same hazel eyes. Hers were a little greener, though. His were a little more gold. And they both had the same dimpled smiles, but now that he was so tan, his teeth seemed twice as bright. Where Marcus had their dad’s thick, line-straight eyebrows, however, and his angular nose, Zoey had her mom’s softer features and—well-hidden—cheekbones.
“C’mon.” Priti grabbed Zoey’s hand and pulled her forward around the diving board.
“Hold up,” said Kate, sounding panicked. “Where did our stuff go? I thought it was on those chairs over there.”
Priti dropped Zoey’s hand and crossed her arms. “It was on those chairs,” she said.
Zoey’s eyes followed Kate’s and Priti’s to the three chairs at the end of the row—and the three girls lying in them: Ivy Wallace and her sidekicks for the past year, Bree Sharpe and Shannon Chang.
Ivy, Bree, and Shannon all went to Mapleton Prep too. Zoey and Shannon met in the third grade and had even been friends for a while, or so Zoey thought. But that was history once middle school started. Shannon joined up with Ivy and Bree, who had gone to a different elementary school, and she was different with them. Zoey had tried to be welcoming to Ivy and Bree. She learned pretty fast, though, that Ivy Wallace wasn’t the kind of girl she wanted as a friend. Once, Zoey and Bree were paired up as lab partners—which had gone fine until Ivy sent Bree a note. Then Bree folded up her own lab notes and gave them to Ivy, so she could have them, and Bree had to start over from the beginning. Zoey wanted nothing to do with that kind of thing. And she knew she was lucky Priti and Kate would never cheat.
“Excuse us,” Priti said as she, Kate, and Zoey lined up at the foot of the hijacked chairs.
Ivy looked up and pulled out an earbud.
“Oh, hi, Priti,” said Ivy. “What’s up?”
“Uh, what’s up, Ivy, is that you’re in our chairs,” she said.
“Your chairs? I don’t understand,” Ivy said. She turned to Bree and Shannon, who each set their phones down and looked at Ivy, nodding to back her up. Then Ivy tossed her hair back, trying not to blink in the sun.
“Oh, come on, Ivy,” Kate spoke up. “What’d you do with our stuff? We left towels right here, along with our bags.”
Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. . . . Do you mean that junk over there? Is that yours?”
Ivy pointed to the three last lounge chairs in the row by the chain link fence—all the way back in no-man’s-land. Sure enough, there lay Kate’s and Priti’s towels and bags.
“Um, excuse me! It’s not junk,” Priti replied. “It’s our stuff.”
“Sorry, it looked like junk to me,” Ivy went on, knitting her eyebrows with fake concern.
“Yeah, me too,” said Shannon.
“You know, that’s why I never leave my stuff hanging around,” Ivy said. Her eyes flew up to the lifeguard stand and settled on Marcus. “Especially when my stuff’s by the cute lifeguard.”
Cute lifeguard . . . ? Who?
Then Zoey realized Ivy didn’t know that the “cute lifeguard” was Zoey’s brother. All three of them stood there, fists clenched. Zoey’s tongue was clenched as well—and itching to spring. She glanced back at the lifeguard stand and saw that Marcus was on a break and another lifeguard was on duty.
“Speaking of lifeguards . . . ,” said Zoey. “I think I’ll tell him what you did. . . .” She turned and waved to Marcus. “Yoo-hoo! Lifeguard! Excuse me!” she yelled, praying he wouldn’t ignore her this time.
She heard Ivy snort behind her. “Seriously? You’re just making a fool of yourself. As if he really cares.”
“Oh, believe me, he cares,” said Zoey.
“You’re dreaming,” said Ivy. Then her smug smile turned into a confused stare as Marcus walked over and stopped to give Zoey a high five.
“Hey, sis,” Marcus said, oblivious to what was going on. “What’s up? Are these your friends?” He nodded toward Ivy, Bree, and Shannon.
“Hey, Marcus.” She paused to enjoy Ivy’s horrified expression. “Nope. Not really.”
“OMG, we’re totally friends,” Ivy said. “We just invited Zoey and . . . those girls . . . to sit with us. Here, take our seats.”
“Actually, they took our—” continued Zoey.
“What? No! No! No! . . . That was a total joke. You can’t take things so seriously!” Ivy blurted, stumbling to her feet. She avoided catching Zoey’s eye and made sure to flash a smile at Marcus. “Everything’s good, Zoey, right?”
Zoey crossed her arms and looked up. She wasn’t ready to say quite yet. . . .
“Here, I promise, they’re all yours,” huffed Ivy, pointing at the chairs. “Shannon! Go get their stuff already, and bring it back over here.”
While Shannon’s mouth fell open and Bree looked like she wanted to disappear into the pool deck, Zoey grinned at Priti and Kate. Then Zoey looked back to Marcus, who mouthed, Are you okay?
I am now, thanks! Zoey mouthed back, smiling, while she and her friends waited for the lounge squatters to finish clearing out.
“Here, let me help,” Ivy told Shannon, loud enough so Marcus could hear her. “I’d do anything for Zoey!”
Before they could reclaim their seats completely, though, a stereo of voices shouted out Priti’s name.
“Hey, Priti! Zoey! Kate!” It was Priti’s sisters and one of their friends, waving from a cluster of chairs behind the diving board. “You guys want to sit here? We’re getting up to leave.”
Priti spun around and waved back. “Oh good! Those chairs are even better!” she said.
By the time they got there, Sashi and Tara were up with their bags on their shoulders and their sandals on their feet. Their friend had out her cars keys and was balancing a stack of glossy magazines.
“Do you guys want these? I’m done,” she said.
“Sure!” said Zoey hungrily.
“Of course she does,” said Sashi. “Hey, you know who this is,” she told her friend.
“Who?” said the girl. She was wearing a white two-piece and an aqua sarong.
“It’s Priti’s friend, the Sew Zoey blogger!” Sashi told her.
“Wow!” said her friend. “Cool! Sew Zoey. I love that blog!” She pointed her keys at Zoey’s cover-up. “Don’t tell me you made that.”
Zoey nodded, biting her lip to keep her smile contained.
“Yep! And these too.” Priti spoke up, pointing to hers and Kate’s.
“Wow. And you’re still in middle school? I really thought you’d be older,” said the girl, raising her eyebrows approvingly.
Zoey wanted to run up and hug her, but she kept it to a modest nod. Too bad Ivy missed that! she thought.
“We al
l love your blog,” Tara told her. “And we’ve been telling all our friends.”
“Did you tell Annika?” her friend asked her.
“Of course,” Tara replied. “She’s our friend who’s interning in New York,” she informed Zoey. She reached for one of the magazines and held it up. “For this.”
Whoa, thought Zoey. Très Chic! It was only the most famous fashion magazine in the whole, entire world! The very thought of someone even remotely connected to it reading her blog gave Zoey goose bumps all over.
And now she finally knew where at least some of her blog’s new followers were coming from. At the same time, though, she was instantly nervous at the thought of all those eyes looking at her drawings and reading her blog posts. It was one thing to do something for herself and her friends . . . but it was another to do something for strangers. Strangers who would judge her by her blog and her blog alone.
“It was so cool to meet you,” said Priti’s sisters’ friend as they waved and started off. “I can’t wait to read your next post—and to hear what you decide to make for the first day of school!”
Zoey sighed and sank into her chaise without even laying down her towel first. Ivy, Shannon, and Bree? Who were they again? And who ever said the pool wasn’t great? It was totally awesome! Too bad summer was almost over.
“So!” Priti adjusted her chair, so that it didn’t lean so far back. She had her book open, at the ready, in the middle of her lap. “What are you making, Zoey? Have you started on it yet?”
“Not yet,” said Zoey. “I’ve got a bunch of ideas, though. Did you see the ones I posted?”
“Of course,” Kate said. “That ‘Ode to Mrs. Hammerfall’ look was hilarious!”
Priti giggled. “How funny would it be,” she said, “if we all went to the first day of school in turtlenecks and pleated pants! I dare you!”
Kate doubled over, howling in laughter, and Zoey did too. They were totally aware that half the pool was staring at them, but they didn’t care.
“Seriously,” Zoey said finally. “No, seriously, guys! Which outfit did you like?”
