The Cupcake Diaries Collection: Katie and the Cupcake Cure; Mia in the Mix; Emma on Thin Icing; Alexis and the Perfect Recipe

by Simon, Coco

  “Hey, it’s going to be about a half hour before the food is ready,” he said. “I inflated the volleyball this morning. How about a game of moms against kids?”

  That sounded good to me. I’m terrible at volleyball, but I still think it’s fun. Besides, anything would be better than standing around talking about why Callie and I weren’t taking the bus together.

  “Kids serve first!” I yelled, and I ran into the yard and grabbed the ball. I tossed it to Callie. “You’d better start. You know I usually can’t get it over the net.”

  Callie laughed, and we launched into the game. Let me explain what happens when I play volleyball: I will chase after any ball that comes over the net. I will hit it with everything I’ve got. The problem is I have no idea how to aim it. Sometimes the ball goes way off to the side. Sometimes it goes behind me, over my head. If I’m lucky, it’ll go right over the net. But that doesn’t happen a lot.

  Pretty soon Callie and I were cracking up laughing. We kept bumping into each other, and once we both tumbled onto the grass. It was really hilarious. And the funniest thing is that even though I am terrible at the game, we still beat the moms!

  “That’s game! Katie and Callie win!” Mr. Wilson called up from the deck.

  “Woo-hoo!” Callie and I cried, high-fiving each other.

  “And that’s perfect timing,” Callie’s dad added. “Lunch is ready!”

  Mr. Wilson might blame Callie’s mom for his big stomach, but he is a great cook too. After I drank two big glasses of lemonade (volleyball makes me thirsty) I dug in to the food on the table. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, juicy tomatoes from the garden, and of course, corn on the cob. I put a piece of corn on my plate before anything else.

  “Katie, remember the time you ate six pieces of corn on the cob?” Callie asked, giggling.

  “I was only six!” I cried.

  “I can’t believe we weren’t paying attention,” my mom said, shaking her head. “Six pieces. Can you imagine that?”

  “And I didn’t even get a stomachache,” I said proudly.

  “I love corn on the cob, but I could never eat six pieces,” Callie added.

  The rest of lunch was like that. We told funny stories, and we laughed a lot. It was just like last year’s Labor Day barbecue. Like nothing at all had changed.

  “Want to go to my room?” Callie asked when we were done.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I might eat all the cupcakes while you’re gone!” Mr. Wilson warned.

  I hadn’t been in Callie’s room in more than a month. Some things were the same, like the unicorn decal and her purple walls and carpet. And the picture of me and Callie from when we went to an amusement park and had our faces painted like tigers. Callie with her blond hair and blue eyes, me with my brown hair and brown eyes. Totally different—but the tiger paint made us look like sisters.

  Other stuff was new. Like now she had lots of posters on her walls—lots of posters of boys. Most of them were from those vampire movies.

  When did she start liking those? I wondered.

  “You’ve got to see my pictures from camp,” Callie said. “I have so much to tell you.”

  “I know,” I said. “This is, like, the first time we’ve been together.”

  Callie held up her cell phone so I could see it and started scrolling through the photos. As they whizzed by, I saw lots of pictures of her and Sydney and the others. She stopped at a photo of a boy on a diving board.

  “That’s Matt,” she said. “Isn’t he cute? He was a lifeguard at camp.”

  I squinted at the photo. Matt had short brown hair and he was wearing a red bathing suit. He looked like a regular boy to me. But he didn’t have tentacles or antennae or a tail or anything, so I guessed that was a good sign.

  “He’s in eighth grade,” Callie said. “I pass him in the hallway every day between fifth and sixth period. The other day he actually said, ‘Hi, Callie.’ Isn’t that amazing?”

  Wow, he can put two words together, I thought. But out loud I said, “Yeah, amazing.”

  Callie’s cell phone made a sound like fairy bells. The photo faded and a text message popped up on the screen.

  “No way!” she cried. “Teen Style magazine has posted the best and worst fashion from the music awards last night. You have got to check this out!”

  It was easy to guess who the text message was from—Sydney. It had to be.

  Callie grabbed her laptop and started typing away. A page popped up on the screen.

  “That’s hilarious,” she said. “They divided the page into ‘Killer Looks’ and ‘Looks That Should Be Killed.’ Ha!”

  I briefly wondered what kind of weapon would be used to kill an ugly dress. Maybe some roboscissors?

  “Oh my gosh, that is awful!” Callie squealed. She grabbed her cell phone and started texting.

  Any fuzzy feelings I’d had before were evaporating. Callie was supposed to be hanging out with me today. It was like I wasn’t even in the room.

  “Hey, Callie,” I said.

  “Yeah?” She looked up from her phone.

  “I know we’re still friends,” I said. “But the other day you said we were still best friends. I’m just wondering about that. I mean . . . best friends sit together at lunch. They talk to each other during school.”

  “I know,” Callie said. “But it’s complicated. I still wish we could be best friends, but . . .” She sighed and looked away.

  That’s the moment I knew there was no going back. Callie had changed over the summer.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “You’re still my friend, Katie. You’ll always be my friend.”

  “Just not best friends,” I said quietly.

  Callie didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.

  “I don’t under—”

  Then I heard my mom’s voice in the doorway. “Girls, it’s cupcake time.”

  Mom had a kind of sad look on her face. I wondered how long she’d been standing there.

  I figured Mom would be full of questions on the ride home. But for once, she wasn’t. I stared out the window, thinking.

  Tomorrow I’d start my first full week of school. There would be no more barbecues. No more swimming. Just day after day of middle school.

  Maybe Mom was right. It wasn’t September twenty-third yet, but summer was officially over.

  CHAPTER 8

  Just Call Me “Silly Arms”

  Tuesday wasn’t just the start of my first real week of school. It was also the first day of gym.

  I knew gym was going to be different from how it was in elementary school. For one thing, we have to wear a gym uniform: blue shorts and a blue T-shirt that says PARK STREET MIDDLE SCHOOL in yellow writing on it. I wasn’t too worried about the changing-into-the-uniform thing. I just put my favorite unicorn underwear in a different drawer so I won’t accidentally wear it during the week. Nobody needs to know about my unicorn underwear.

  I also knew that the gym would be bigger, and the teachers would be different. But what I didn’t count on was that the kids in gym would be different too. I’m not just talking about the kids from other schools. Kids I’ve known all my life had completely changed. Like Eddie Rossi, for example. Somehow he grew a mustache over the summer. An actual mustache! And Ken Watanabe—he must have grown a whole foot taller.

  The boys were all rowdier, too. Before class started they were running around, wrestling, and slamming into one another like they were Ultimate Fighting Champs or something. I moved closer to Emma for safety.

  “They’re gonna hurt somebody,” I said, worried.

  Emma shrugged. I guess having three brothers, she’s used to it.

  Our gym teacher’s name is Kelly Chen. She looks like someone you’d see in a commercial for a sports drink. Her shiny black hair is always in a perfect ponytail, and she wears a neat blue sweat suit with yellow stripes down the sides.

  She blew a whistle to start the class.

&nbs
p; “Line up in rows for me, people!” she called out. “We don’t do anything in this class without warming up.”

  We did a bunch of stretches and things to get started. That was easy enough. Then Ms. Chen divided us into four teams to play volleyball.

  You can probably see what’s coming. I didn’t—not right away. We always played volleyball in elementary school. Everybody had fun, and most kids were pretty terrible at it, just like me. So I wasn’t too worried.

  My first warning should have been when I got my team assignment. Ms. Chen put me on a team with Sydney and Maggie! Ken Watanabe was on our team too, along with two boys I didn’t know named Wes and Aziz.

  On the other team were a bunch of kids I didn’t know and George Martinez from my old school. Emma was on a team playing on the other side of the gym, so George was the only friendly face in sight.

  “All right, take your places!” Ms. Chen called out.

  Everyone scrambled to get in line. For some reason, I was in place to serve the first ball. Ken tossed it to me.

  My hands were starting to sweat a little.

  “What are you waiting for?” Sydney called out.

  I took a deep breath and punched the ball with my right hand.

  It soared up . . . up . . . and wildly to the right, slamming into the bleachers. It bounced off and then bounced into the basketball pole, ricocheting like a pinball in a machine. Then it rolled to Ms. Chen’s feet. She tossed it to the other team.

  “Nice serve,” Sydney said snidely, and Maggie giggled next to her.

  My face flushed red. The only good thing about messing up the serve was that I got to move out of serving position. I wouldn’t have to serve again for a while.

  I was safe while I was in the back row. Ken was in front, and he was so tall that no ball could get past him. The other kids were all hitting the ball pretty well too. It was like everyone had suddenly become volleyball experts over the summer. Why hadn’t I acquired this amazing skill?

  But then it was time for us to switch positions, and I was in front of the net. My hands started to sweat again.

  Sydney served the ball, and George volleyed it back. It was one of those balls that kisses the top of the net and then slowly drops over, like a gift. It should have been easy to hit.

  Not for me. I swung my arm underhand to get to it, and the ball went flying behind me. Aziz tried to get it but it bounced out of bounds.

  George was grinning. “Katie, you look like that sprinkler in my backyard, you know, Silly Arms? The one with all those arms and they wave around and sprinkle water everywhere?”

  George started spinning around and waving his arms in a weird, wiggly way. Everyone started laughing.

  I was laughing too. George and I have been teasing each other since kindergarten. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings.

  But then Sydney and Maggie had to take the fun out of it.

  “Do you guys want Silly Arms on your team? We’ll trade you,” Sydney called out.

  “Yeah, we’ll never win with this one on our team,” Maggie added.

  I couldn’t wait for gym to be over. For the rest of the game, George wiggled his arms like the Silly Arms sprinkler every time the ball came to him. If I wasn’t so mad at Sydney and Maggie, I would have thought it was funny. Instead, I was miserable. As soon as I got back to the locker room I changed fast and ran out.

  I had English class next. It’s the one class I have with Mia, Emma, and Alexis. George Martinez is in that class too. He walked past me on the way to his seat.

  “Hey, Silly Arms,” he said with a grin.

  “What’s that about?” Mia asked.

  “Gym class,” I said with a sigh. “We were playing volleyball, and George said my arms look like the Silly Arms sprinkler.”

  “That’s so mean!” Mia said.

  “But it’s true,” I told her. “I think I hate gym now.”

  “Tell me about it.” Mia rolled her eyes. “Gym was so much better in my old school. We got to bring in our iPods and dance to the music we brought in.”

  I noticed that Mia was wearing another model-worthy outfit: a belted gray sweater vest over a blue-and-black striped T-shirt dress, tights, and short black boots with heels. That gave me an idea.

  “Hey, do you know anything about the Teen Style website?” I asked her.

  Mia’s eyes lit up. “Of course! They are the best with all the new fashion trends. Why?”

  “Just wondering,” I said. Honestly, though, I was thinking that if I knew more about it, maybe Callie and I would have something to talk about sometime.

  “I know,” Mia said. “Why don’t you take the bus home with me today? We can check out the website at my house.”

  The bell rang. “I’ll text my mom and let you know,” I whispered as Mrs. Castillo took her place in front of the room to begin today’s class.

  I know what you’re thinking, but I did not text my mom in class. I had learned my lesson in homeroom. I waited until the bell rang and texted her before my next class.

  Can I go to my friend Mia’s after school?

  The answer came back quickly. My mom may be an adult, but she is a superfast texter.

  Not until I talk to Mia’s parents. And what are you doing texting during school? I will take your cell phone privileges away next time.

  See? Even when I try to do the right thing, I get in trouble.

  I knew there was no point in replying, or I’d lose my phone. Mom is pretty strict that way.

  It’s not fair. I fumed as I stomped down the hall. I lost my best friend. How was I supposed to make new ones if my mom wouldn’t let me?

  CHAPTER 9

  Teen Style and Two Tiny Dogs

  I was embarrassed to tell Mia that I couldn’t go until our mothers met, but she was cool about it. She quickly took my phone from me.

  “Hey, why fight it?” She laughed. “My mom is the same way. I’ll enter my number in your address book,” she said. “Your mom can call me tonight, and I’ll put my mom on the phone. Maybe we can do it tomorrow. Don’t stress it.”

  I really admire the way Mia handles things. She’s pretty cool about everything. And she’s down to earth, too. She’s totally not snobby or anything. I realized how much I liked Mia. I was starting to feel really glad that her mom had moved to our town.

  So that night, I decided to play it cool, like Mia would. I gave Mia’s number to Mom and told her I wanted to go the next day after school. I didn’t give her a hard time about not letting me go. I couldn’t resist arguing about the cell phone, though.

  “You know, texting between classes doesn’t count,” I said.

  “It’s still in school,” Mom countered. “And your cell phone is for emergencies only while you’re in school, whether you’re between classes or not.”

  It’s very hard to win an argument with Mom.

  But the good news is that she talked to Mia’s mom, Ms. Vélaz, and they both said it was okay for me to take the bus to Mia’s house after school. My mom agreed to pick me up on her way home from work. She was laughing on the phone with Mia’s mom, so I figured she liked her. That was a good sign.

  I was pretty excited to go to Mia’s house the next day. Even gym couldn’t bring me down. Ms. Chen mixed up our teams, so I didn’t get stuck with Sydney and Maggie again. Even better. But I did get stuck with George, who kept calling me Silly Arms even though I was on his team this time. Go figure.

  Mia’s house was one of the last houses on the bus stop route. That’s because it’s in the part of town where the houses are really big and far apart. The bus stopped in front of a white house with a perfect green lawn in front. The lawn at our house is usually filled with dandelions, but Mom and I think they’re pretty so we let them grow.

  Mia let us in through the front door, and the first thing I noticed was the noise. Loud heavy-metal music was blasting through the whole house. Two tiny white dogs were barking on top of it. They ran up to Mia and me and started sniffing my sneakers.<
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  “That’s Milkshake and Tiki,” Mia told me. “If you don’t like dogs, I can put them in their crate.”

  “No, I love dogs!” I said. “I want one so bad, but Mom’s allergic. Can I pet them?”

  “Sure,” she replied. I reached down to touch them, but the skittish dogs wouldn’t stand still. I could barely feel the fur under my fingers.

  “Follow me,” Mia instructed. We went down a hallway and through one of the doors there.

  A woman with black hair like Mia’s and headphones on was sitting at a desk, typing on a computer.

  “Mom, can you please tell Dan to turn down the music?!” Mia yelled.

  But Ms. Vélaz didn’t see or hear us. Mia walked over and took the headphones off her mother’s ears. Ms. Vélaz smiled.

  “Oh hello, Mia.” She nodded to me. “And this must be Katie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Mom, can you please tell Dan to turn down the music?” Mia pleaded.

  “Would you mind asking him yourself?” her mom asked. “I’m IM’ing a potential client, and I can’t leave the computer right now.”

  Mia sighed. “All right. But I bet he won’t do it.”

  “Please get a snack for Katie too!” Ms. Vélaz called out to us.

  We left the office, and Mia grabbed a bag of cookies before we headed up the gleaming wood staircase. Mia told me her story as best as she could over the loud music.

  “Mom used to work at a fashion magazine in New York, but then she met Eddie, who already had a house out here,” she explained. “So now she works out of the house. She’s starting her own consulting business.”

  We stopped in front of a door on the second floor.

  “This is Dan’s room,” Mia shouted. “He’ll be my stepbrother when Mom and Eddie get married in a few months.”

  Mia pounded on the door. It slowly opened, and a teenage boy with dark hair hanging over his eyes stood behind it.

  “Too loud?” he asked.

  “What do you think?” Mia shouted back.

  Dan closed the door and a few seconds later the music was much quieter. Mia shook her head as we walked to her room.