by Simon, Coco
“Gotta go,” Joanne said. “Yell if you need me. But not too loud. Don’t want to scare the patients.”
“Thanks!” I told her.
Then I took out my cell phone and called Callie. The phone rang three times before she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Cal, it’s Katie. Can you talk?” I asked.
“Of course,” Callie answered, and for a second I wondered if the whole day had been some kind of weird dream. Callie sounded like she always did.
“Why didn’t you tell me we weren’t taking the bus together?” I blurted out.
“Listen, Katie, I’m sorry,” Callie said, and she sounded like she meant it. “I became good friends with Sydney, Maggie, and Bella at camp. And they asked me to join their club. I wanted to tell you, but we never got together.”
“Okay, but—wait, Bella? I thought her name was Brenda?” I asked.
“It was, but she changed it to Bella,” Callie explained.
“Oh,” I said. I’d never known anyone who actually changed his or her name before. But that wasn’t important right now. “You could have called me. Or texted me,” I said.
“I know, I know, but I was really busy when I got back. Honest,” Callie said. “Please don’t be upset.”
“Are we still friends?” I asked. There was a lump in my throat when I said the word.
“Of course!” Callie assured me. “You’re my best friend.”
“But you won’t walk to school with me or have lunch with me,” I pointed out. I knew I sounded like a baby, and I really was about to cry. I was just so confused.
“It’s not like that,” Callie protested. “Katie, we’re in middle school now. Middle school is bigger than just the two of us. We’re going to make lots of new friends. Both of us.”
I thought briefly about Mia, Alexis, and Emma. Callie had a point—but I was too angry and hurt to admit it.
“Sure—right,” I said lamely.
“And I’ll see you this weekend,” Callie said. “For the annual Labor Day barbecue.”
“Okay,” I said with a sigh.
“Hey, did you notice I got contact lenses?” Callie asked. “No more glasses for me!” So that explained why she wasn’t wearing glasses today.
“Well, I already have homework to do. Plus I need to figure out what I’m going to wear tomorrow!” Callie said, and then we hung up.
I felt better after the call—not much, but just a little. I was glad Callie was still my friend. But the whole thing was weird. Callie was basically saying, “I’m sorry, but I’m still going to ignore you at lunch tomorrow.”
I’ve heard “I’m sorry—but . . .” a lot in my life. Mostly from my dad. As in, “I’m sorry, Katie, but I can’t come visit you this summer….”
It doesn’t feel good.
I took out my math assignment—my only homework assignment for tonight—and started working on the problems. Just as I was finishing, Mom opened the door.
“There you are!” she said, crushing me in a hug. She smelled like mint toothpaste. “I’ll be ready to go in just a few minutes, okay?”
As you can probably guess, Mom was full of questions on the car ride home.
“Are your teachers nice?”
“Did you get any homework?”
“Did you find the bus stop okay?”
“Did you like your cupcake?”
“Is Callie in any of your classes?”
That one was the hardest to answer. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mom everything that had happened with Callie. How could I, when I wasn’t even sure what was happening?
“We only have lunch together,” I replied.
“Oh, that’s too bad!” Mom said with a frown. “At least you get to sit together.”
I just nodded and looked out the window.
“You must be tired,” Mom said. “You’ve had a big day today. Try to relax when we get home. I’ll call you when it’s time to set the table.”
Because it was the first day of school, Mom made my favorite food for dinner: Chinese-style chicken and broccoli with rice. (Yes, I’m a weirdo who likes broccoli.) It smelled so good!
“Would you like to do anything after dinner?” Mom asked. “It’s nice out. We could walk over to Callie’s.”
Not a good idea! But I didn’t tell Mom that.
“I was thinking,” I said. “Can we make some pineapple upside-down cupcakes?”
Mom got a knowing look on her face. “Ah. So you need a cupcake cure?”
Once, when I was seven, I fell off of my bike and messed up my knee really bad. Mom made me pineapple upside-down cupcakes and gave them to me with a note: “Turn your frown upside down.” Hey, I’ve been telling you she’s corny. Since then, we make pineapple upside-down cupcakes together whenever one of us is feeling sad. We call it the “cupcake cure.” It’s hard to not feel better when you eat a cupcake.
I nodded. As we took out the ingredients and started measuring, I started talking—not about Callie, but about everything else. My evil locker. Being late for class all the time. Scary Mrs. Moore.
Mom listened while I talked. When I was done, she had a bunch of suggestions for how to make things better. Mom lives to solve all of my problems. Unfortunately, I didn’t tell her about my biggest problem.
Pineapple upside-down cupcakes are not that hard to make. The trick is that you don’t use cupcake liners. You spray the cupcake tins with that nonstick stuff. Then you fill the bottom of each cup with a mix of canned pineapple and some spices. You pour the batter on top and then you bake them.
When the cupcakes are done, you take them out of the pan and turn them upside down. Each cupcake has a beautiful golden pineapple on the top. To make them extra nice you can add a candied cherry on top like we do.
Mom and I each ate one with a glass of milk. They were still warm. So yummy!
As Mom packed one for me in my cupcake holder, I remembered what I’d told the girls at lunch.
“Can I bring in three more?” I asked. “For the girls at my lunch table.”
“Of course,” Mom said. “I have a small box we can use.”
I found myself looking forward to tomorrow’s lunch—even without Callie.
CHAPTER 6
The Perfect Plan . . . Almost
By lunchtime the next day, I was sure of one thing.
My locker is an evil robot in disguise, sent here to Earth to prevent me from finishing middle school. Or maybe it’s from the future; I’m not sure.
But I’m sure its mission is to ruin my middle school career. Maybe one day I’ll become president of the United States and save the Earth from the alien or robot invasion. But if I never finish middle school, I can’t become president, and the robots will rule forever.
My mom had written my combination on an orange rubber band for me to wear around my wrist so I wouldn’t forget. But even with the right combination the locker wouldn’t open on the first try, or even the second try! How could that be?
I was late for science again, but Ms. Biddle didn’t care. I knew that Mrs. Moore was another story, though. So I devised a plan: I would take my math book with me to lunch. Then I would walk to class with Alexis, who seemed to know her way around. That way, I’d be on time.
When I finally got my locker open before lunch, I spotted the white box of cupcakes on my top shelf. I couldn’t forget those! I carefully picked them up by the string, eager to show them off to the girls.
I was a little nervous, of course. What if they all decided to sit somewhere else? But when I got to the table in the back of the room, Mia was already there.
Mia’s eyes got big when she saw the white box.
“Ooh, are those cupcakes?” she asked.
“My mom and I ended up making some last night,” I explained.
“That’s really nice of you,” Mia said.
Alexis and Emma came over and dropped their books on the table.
“We’ve got to get in line before it gets too long,” Alexi
s said.
“Hurry back,” Mia said. “Katie brought cupcakes.”
Emma flashed me a grateful smile as she and Alexis headed off to the lunch line.
Soon we were all eating lunch together. Mom had packed me some leftover chicken and broccoli, which tastes even better cold.
“I can’t believe it’s Friday already!” Alexis said. “It’s weird, starting school and then having three days off.”
“I think they’re trying to ease us into it—you know, like how you stick only your foot in a pool when it’s really cold, and then slowly put the rest of your body in,” I guessed.
“I always jump right in,” Emma said. “Cold or not.”
Mia shuddered. “You’re brave!”
“I think we’re going to the beach this weekend,” Alexis said. “Last swim of the summer.”
“I’m going to the city this weekend, to see my dad,” Mia chimed in.
“Are your parents divorced?” Alexis asked, like it was no big deal.
Mia nodded. “Four years ago.”
I didn’t say anything about my own parents being divorced. To be honest, I was a little jealous that Mia was going to see her dad. I hadn’t seen mine in years.
“We’re going to my grandma’s house for a picnic,” Emma spoke up.
“We’re going to a barbecue,” I said. “Over at . . . Callie’s.”
I glanced over at the PGC table.
“Isn’t that the friend who dumped you?” Alexis asked.
“She didn’t dump me,” I protested. “We’re still friends. Best friends.”
“Emma is my best friend,” Alexis said. “If she sat at a table with other girls, I’d sit next to her.”
“But I wouldn’t sit at a table with other girls,” Emma said, and then she gave me an apologetic look, like she was worried she’d hurt my feelings.
“Exactly,” said Alexis. They both looked at me.
“Look, it’s kind of complicated,” I said. “They formed this club. The Popular Girls Club. And you can’t sit at the table unless you’re a member. It’s a rule.”
“Are you serious? They actually named themselves the Popular Girls Club?” Alexis asked. “If you’re popular, do you really have to advertise it like that? Plus, what did everyone do—take a vote or something?”
Mia had an amused smile on her face. “It does seem a little desperate,” she admitted. “But I have all of those girls in a lot of my classes. They seem nice.”
“Callie is nice,” I said. “Really. I’m just not so sure about the others.”
There was a weird silence.
“So, Katie.” Mia nodded to the white box. “When do we get to try those cupcakes?”
“Right now,” I answered. I slipped off the string and opened up the top of the box. The cupcakes looked perfect.
“They’re so pretty!” Emma cooed.
“What is that golden stuff?” Alexis asked.
“It’s pineapple,” I explained. “These are like pineapple upside-down cake, except they’re cupcakes.”
Mia shook her head. “Where do you get all these amazing cupcake ideas?”
“It’s my mom, mostly,” I admitted. “She’s cupcake crazy.”
Mia laughed. “My mom is shopping crazy.”
“You’re lucky,” said Alexis. “My mom is cleaning crazy.”
Emma shrugged. “My mom says me and my brothers make her crazy.”
“She has three brothers,” Alexis told us. “They’re all monsters. Emma is the only normal one.”
Emma blushed.
“Less talking, more cupcakes,” I joked, and each of us picked one up.
It was quiet for a second as we took a bite of golden goodness.
“These are absolutely delicious,” Mia said.
Alexis nodded. “The pineapple is supergood.”
“I love the cherry on top,” Emma said.
I was happy that everyone liked them.
“I’ll bring in cupcakes every day if I can,” I offered.
“That might be cupcake overload,” Alexis pointed out. “Even for your cupcake crazy mother. How about one day a week? Like every Friday?”
“Cupcake Friday,” I said. “I like it.”
I liked it for a bunch of reasons. Making cupcakes is fun. But it also meant my new friends wanted to sit with me—for at least another week.
The bell rang, and I turned to Alexis. “Can I follow you to math? I don’t want to be late.”
“Of course!” Alexis replied.
We got to math in plenty of time. Mrs. Moore was already there.
“How nice to see you on time, Miss Brown,” Mrs. Moore told me.
I felt fantastic. My plan had worked.
When the bell rang, Mrs. Moore asked us all to take out our math books. I looked down at my desk. I had my notebook with me, but not my math book! Had I left it at lunch?
Then I remembered. I had grabbed the cupcake box instead of my math book! It was still in my locker.
With a sigh, I raised my hand. “Excuse me, Mrs. Moore . . .”
She gave me two worksheets that night!
CHAPTER 7
Just Like Old Times . . . Almost
The morning of Labor Day I woke up with a huge knot in my stomach. I didn’t know what it would be like with Callie at the barbecue. And this year I wanted everything to be especially perfect.
Unfortunately, my need for perfection made me argue with my mom about what kind of decorations to put on the cupcakes we were bringing. The night before, we made vanilla cupcakes with vanilla icing, which are Callie’s dad’s favorite. That’s a pretty boring cupcake, so we always add some decoration on the top. Sometimes it’s candy. But lately, Mom’s been into using this stuff called fondant. It’s like a kind of dough, but it’s mostly made out of sugar. You can color it, roll it out, and cut shapes out of it just like cookie dough. But you don’t have to cook it. Then you can put the shapes on top of your cupcakes and they look amazing. It’s a little hard to make, but as I said, Mom is like Martha Stewart. She could make a house out of fondant if she had to.
Mom and I were looking through the tin of mini cookie cutters for shapes to use. I wanted to use a sun and color the fondant yellow. Mom wanted to use a leaf shape and color the fondant orange.
“But it’s still summer,” I whined. “It’s, like, a hundred degrees out there.”
“Eighty-five,” Mom corrected me. “And summer is over. School’s started.”
“But the first day of autumn isn’t until September twenty-third,” I said. “That’s a fact. A scientific fact.”
“Technically,” Mom agreed. “But as soon as I see school buses driving around, I think of fall.”
I frowned. I didn’t want summer to end just yet. Mom looked at me. She knew something was wrong and I didn’t want to tell her what it was. I sighed and gave in.
“How about half suns and half leaves?” I suggested.
Mom smiled. “Perfect! The orange and yellow will look nice together.”
By noon we were pulling into the driveway of Callie’s house. It’s easy to find because it’s the only house on the block painted light blue. From the sidewalk you can tell which room is Callie’s—it’s the window on the second floor on the left with the unicorn decal on it. I have one just like it on my bedroom window.
We walked through the white wood gate and headed right for the backyard. Callie’s dad was standing by the grill on the deck.
“Hey, Katie-did!” he called out. He wiggled his eyebrows when he saw the cupcake holder in my arms. “I hope that is filled with lots of vanilla cupcakes!”
“Of course!” I replied. “With vanilla icing.”
Mr. Wilson gave me and my mom a hug. He’s got kind of a big belly, so his hugs are always squishy.
“It’s Barbara’s fault. All that good cooking,” he’ll say, patting his stomach, and everybody always laughs.
I’ve known Mr. Wilson—and Callie’s whole family—since even before I was born. My
mom and Callie’s mom met in a cooking class while they were pregnant. In a way, the Wilsons are like my second family. Mrs. Wilson is like my second mom. Callie’s like a sister. And Mr. Wilson’s like a dad. And since I never see my dad, he’s the closest thing to one that I’ve got.
Then it hit me as I was standing there on the deck. If Callie and I stopped being friends, what would happen to my whole second family?
I didn’t have much time to think about it because Callie and her mom came out onto the deck. Callie’s mom and my mom gave each other a big hug. Callie and I nodded to each other. Things definitely felt a little weird between us.
“Where’s Jenna today?” Mom asked. Jenna is Callie’s older sister. She’s a junior in high school. Callie has an older brother, too, named Stephen. He just started college this year.
“She’s with her friends,” Mrs. Wilson said, rolling her eyes. “When you’re sixteen, a family barbecue is apparently a horrible punishment.”
Mom looked at me and Callie. “Well, we’ve got a few more years left with these two, don’t we?”
I hate when parents talk like that. Like when we’re teenagers we’re going to turn into hideous mutants or something. It kind of made me nervous, in a way. What if they were right?
“So how do you like middle school, Katie?” Callie’s mom asked me.
I shrugged. “It’s only been two days. It’s kind of hard to tell.”
“I’m so glad the girls are on the same bus route,” my mom said. “Middle school can be pretty scary. It’s nice that they have each other to navigate through it.”
Mrs. Wilson looked confused. “Callie told me she’s been walking to school. Aren’t you two walking together?”
Callie looked down at her flip-flops.
“It’s no big deal,” I said quickly. “I like to take the bus. Callie likes to walk.”
I just didn’t want to get into a whole big discussion about it. Not in front of our mothers, anyway. I saw Mom biting her bottom lip. She looked at Callie’s mom and raised her eyebrows.
“Callie, why didn’t you mention this?” her mom asked.
Before Callie could answer, Mr. Wilson stepped into our circle.
