by Simon, Coco
By eleven o’clock we had two hundred perfect cupcakes. We carefully transferred them to Emma’s mom’s minivan, and she drove them to the school. My mom and I brought the sign, a cash box, one blue and one yellow tablecloth, and plastic trays for the cupcakes.
The day was perfect for a fund-raiser—sunny but not too hot. When we got to the school, the big parking lot was roped off with police tape. There were a bunch of canopies set up in a square all around the lot. Blue and yellow balloons tied to the canopies waved and wiggled in the air. We searched around until we found a table with a note that saidCUPCAKE CLUB on it.
We started setting up. We spread out the blue tablecloth and then draped the yellow one over it in another direction so you could see both colors. Alexis and Emma taped up their sign. We put about half the cupcakes on platters. Then we stood back and checked out our table.
“Not bad,” I said.
“It’s a little flat,” Mia said, turning her head sideways. “Maybe next time we could put the platters on pillars or something so that some are high and some are low.”
Mom walked up behind us and put her arm around me.
“Well, I think it looks perfect!” she said. “Why don’t you girls go stand in front of the table? I’ll take a picture.”
We quickly lined up: me, Mia, Alexis, and then Emma.
“Say ‘cupcake’!” Mom called out.
“Cupcake!” we shouted.
Alexis glanced at her watch. “We still have fifteen minutes. Let’s check out the competition.”
“Good idea,” I agreed.
We walked around. There must have been about a dozen tables besides ours. The basketball team was still setting up their dunking booth at the end of the parking lot. The girls’ soccer team had a booth where they would take your picture, print it out, and put it in a frame. Then you could decorate the frame with shapes like stars and soccer balls. Then we walked past the Chess Club’s table.
“Oh, no!” Emma cried. “A bake sale!”
The table was covered with paper plates topped with cookies, brownies, and yes—cupcakes.
“I think our table stands out more,” Mia whispered to us. “And they don’t have special Park Street Middle School cupcakes, either.”
“Besides, they have mostly cookies,” Alexis pointed out. “And they’re only charging fifty cents each for those.”
Mia and Alexis made me feel better. I think Emma felt better too.
Then we heard loud music coming from the other side of the parking lot. It was dance music, just like I’d heard in the clothing store the night before. We all turned our heads at the same time.
The PGC had set up their booth!
“Let’s get a closer look,” Mia suggested.
We walked across the parking lot. I hated to admit it, but the PGC booth looked really cool. The table was covered with a black cloth with silver stars dangling from it. There were glittery makeup cases all over the table. They had a banner (the printed kind you order from the store) tied to the canopy up above. It readPGC’S MAKEOVER MAGIC.
“What exactly are they doing?” I wondered out loud.
We walked even closer. Sydney and Bella were busy spreading out makeup and brushes and stuff on the table. Bella had a small sign on the table in front of her that said,GOTH MAKEOVERS ARE MY SPECIALITY. She was wearing a black dress with a poufy skirt. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her face looked kind of pale. Smudgy dark makeup ringed her eyes.
Next to her, Sydney wore her long blond hair straight and sleek. She was wearing a long white T-shirt over a gray tank with black leggings and boots. It reminded me of an outfit that Mia might wear.
Callie was sitting at a tiny round table set up next to them with a cash box behind her. I noticed that she was dressed exactly the same as Sydney.
So was Maggie. She looked as perfect as Sydney and Callie, except that a long lock of frizzy brown hair was hanging over her eyes. She darted through the crowd, handing out “Makeover Magic” flyers.
“Flyers! Why didn’t we think of that?” Alexis said with a frown.
“We don’t need flyers to sell cupcakes,” Mia said. “Cupcakes sell themselves.”
The PGC booth worried me. I mean, it looked really good, a lot better than our table with its cardboard sign. Maybe Sydney had been right all along—they were going to win the contest with their secret weapon.
“Speaking of selling cupcakes, we should get back to the booth,” Alexis said.
That’s when Maggie bumped into us.
“Oh, hi,” she said, shoving a flyer into my hand. “When things get slow at your cupcake stand, stop by for a makeover.”
“We’ll try, but I don’t think things are going to get slow,” I said.
We walked away, determined more than ever to sell every last one of our cupcakes.
“The PGC might have music and flyers and glitter, but we have delicious cupcakes!” I cheered. “Let’s go win this contest!”
We ran back to our cupcake booth just as the fund-raiser officially opened. A bunch of people came in all at once. We were right by the front entrance, which was a good thing. Almost everybody stopped to check us out. They said nice things like “Wow, it’s the school colors!” and “What nice cupcakes!”
But for the first few minutes, nobody bought one.
Then Mrs. Moore, my math teacher, came to the table.
I almost didn’t recognize her. When she’s teaching us, she wears skirts and blouses and dark colors. Her hair is mostly gray and she always has it pulled back.
But today she was wearing a sweatshirt with a teddy bear on it and jeans. Her hair was loose and went down to the top of her shoulders. I thought it looked nice that way.
“Hello, Miss Brown,” she said. She looked at the table. “It must have been a lot of work to make all of these cupcakes.”
“There are more in boxes,” I told her. “We made two hundred. Well, two hundred and four, actually. That’s seventeen dozen.”
I was hoping my math would impress her, and maybe it did.
“I’ll take one, please,” she said, and handed me two dollars in exchange for a cupcake. She took a bite right in front of me.
“Vanilla!” she said. “My favorite.”
Then she walked away.
I couldn’t believe it. “It’s our first sale!” I cried. Everyone let out a cheer. I turned over the money to Alexis, who was in charge of the cash box.
Mrs. Moore must have brought us good luck, because we started selling cupcakes like crazy after that. Some people asked for blue, some people asked for yellow, but most people didn’t care which ones they got.
We were so busy selling cupcakes that I forgot about the PGC booth—until a friend of Mia’s came to our table. I recognized her as one of the girls Mia talks to in the hallway.
“Hi, Sophie,” Mia said. Then she gave a little gasp.
I turned away from the cupcakes to see what had startled Mia. Then I noticed—Sophie’s face looked really strange. Her skin had so much white makeup on it that she looked like a clown. The dark makeup around her eyes was smudged everywhere.
“I know,” Sophie said, noticing Mia’s face. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? And it cost me five dollars!”
That’s when I realized—Sophie was a victim of the Makeover Magic booth!
“It’s not so bad,” Mia said.
“I was hoping to look pale and mysterious, but this is too much.” Sophie sighed. “You should see what’s going on over there. It’s more like Makeover Tragic than Makeover Magic.”
Mia and I looked at each other. Then I turned to Emma.
“Can you and Alexis handle things for a minute?” I asked.
Emma nodded. “No problem.”
We quickly made our way to the PGC booth. A big crowd had gathered around.
“Maybe Sophie just got unlucky,” I said. “It looks like they’re doing great.”
We inched our way closer so we could get a better v
iew. I realized that most of the crowd wasn’t in line to get a makeover. Instead they were watching the action at the booth.
Sydney swiped a brush across the face of a girl sitting across from her.
“There,” she said. “You’re ready for the runway!”
The girl turned around, and a few people giggled. I tried not to laugh myself. Sydney had put so much fake tanner on the girl that her face looked like a tangerine. Glittery blue eye shadow covered her eyelids.
“I don’t know much about fashion, but that doesn’t look right to me,” I said to Mia.
“That shouldn’t look right to anybody,” Mia whispered back.
“Okay!” Sydney called out. “Who’s next?”
Nobody stirred. Then the girl with the orange face nudged her friend. “You promised you would get one if I got one.”
The friend looked terrified, but she knew she had to go through with it. She slowly walked up to Callie and handed her five dollars.
“Thanks,” Callie said with a smile. But I know Callie really well, and behind that smile I knew she wasn’t really happy. I felt just a little bad for her.
The crowd thinned out, and Callie noticed me and Mia standing there.
“Hey, Katie,” she called out. “Do you want a makeover?”
“Um, you know I don’t wear makeup,” I said. “Sorry. You should come check out our cupcake table. I bet your dad would like one. They’re vanilla.”
A woman I didn’t know tapped me on the shoulder. She wore sunglasses and her brown hair was swept back in a tan scarf with designs on it.
“Did you make the cupcakes with the school colors?” she asked.
“Yes—I mean, we did,” I said. “We have a club. The Cupcake Club.”
“They were beautiful and delicious,” she said. “Made from scratch, I could tell. I would love to have you make some for the PTA luncheon this spring. We’d pay you, of course.”
Mia and I exchanged glances. Someone wanted to pay us to make cupcakes. Just like professionals. How awesome was that?
Maggie flew up to the woman. “Mom! The Cupcake Club is a rival booth! You’re consorting with the enemy.”
“Calm down, Maggie,” her mom said. “It’s all for the school. I was just coming to get my makeover.”
Maggie glared at us, but I didn’t care. I was feeling pretty good.
Then Callie stood up. “Maggie, can you work the cash box for a minute? I’m going to get a cupcake.”
Sydney dropped the makeup brush she was holding. “Callie, you absolutely cannot buy a cupcake. Do you want to win this contest or not?”
“It’s just a cupcake,” Callie said quietly.
Callie walked over. We smiled at each other.
Maybe Callie was right. Maybe it was just a cupcake.
But to me, it felt like so much more.
CHAPTER 18
The Icing on the Cupcake
The fund-raiser ended at three o’clock, and by then we had sold almost every single cupcake. Then Mia’s stepdad, Eddie, came to pick her up.
“Hey, girls,” he said, smiling big. “How did the cupcake sales go?”
“Great,” Mia told him.
Alexis counted the remaining cupcakes. “We sold one hundred and eighty-three,” she reported.
“So that means you have seventeen left?” he asked.
Alexis nodded.
“Tell you what,” Eddie said. He took his wallet from his pocket. “I’ve got a big meeting on Monday. I bet everyone at work would like some cupcakes. I’ll take everything you have left.”
“Wow, thanks!” I said.
“That will be thirty-four dollars, please,” Alexis said matter-of-factly.
Mia smiled. “Thanks, Eddie,” she said, and she looked really happy. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did,” said Eddie. “I’m making them all work late, but they don’t know it yet!” He laughed. I still couldn’t tell how Mia felt about Eddie, but he seemed nice enough to me. I wondered what it would be like if Mom got married again. That would be weird. Too weird to think about.
Thanks to Eddie, we sold every single one of our cupcakes. We turned over our four hundred dollars to Principal LaCosta. Then we headed home to get ready for the dance that night.
I put on my new purple dress and Mia’s black boots. I checked out my reflection in the mirror. I still didn’t feel like I could be in a magazine or anything. But I thought I looked pretty good.
Mom got teary-eyed when I came downstairs.
“My baby’s first dance,” she said, gripping me in a hug. “Oh, you look so glamorous!”
“Mo-om,” I said in a complaining voice. (But to be honest, I kind of liked it.)
We picked up Mia, who of course looked great, and then Mom dropped us off. The gym was decorated just like you see in the movies or on TV. There were more blue and yellow balloons and streamers, and a DJ was set up over by the basketball hoop. I was happy to see that Alexis and Emma were there already, over by the food table.
“Wow, you look nice,” Emma said.
“So do you guys,” I replied. “So, what’s to eat?”
“There’s punch, some vegetable platters, and cupcakes,” Alexis reported.
Emma groaned. “I don’t think I can look at another cupcake today.”
“I can always look at a cupcake,” I said, examining the trays. They looked normal—chocolate with chocolate icing, and I could tell the icing came from a can.
“Speaking of cupcakes,” Alexis said. “I talked to my parents at dinner about our PTA cupcake order. You know, they’re accountants, so they can help us figure out what to charge so we make a profit. They said they could even set us up as a business if we want.”
“Our own business?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about our little Cupcake Club as anything more than . . . well, making and eating cupcakes. But making money, too? That couldn’t be bad. “I like it!”
“I could design the logo!” said Mia.
“I bet I could make more than I do babysitting my brother!” said Emma excitedly. “I’m in!”
“Then,” proclaimed Alexis, “we are officially the Cupcake Club. Open for business!”
“Yay!” We all laughed and went in for a group hug. It felt good. For the first time in a while I wasn’t really worrying about anything. Not Callie. Not middle school. Not even math.
Then some girls I didn’t know came up to us.
“Those cupcakes you made were sooo good,” one of the girls said.
“Yeah,” said her friend. “How did you make them?”
“It’s easy,” I said. “You just follow the recipe.”
Then a funky beat blared through the gym. “Hey, I love this song!” Mia said. Before I could say no, she grabbed my arm and dragged me onto the dance floor. Alexis and Emma followed us. We danced to the whole song, and then the next one.
George Martinez was dancing by himself. He pointed at me.
“Hey, Silly Arms!”
I started waving my arms around like the Silly Arms sprinkler. George cracked up. Then Mia started doing it too.
“Hey, that’s pretty fun!” she said.
Then the gym got quiet. Principal LaCosta walked up to the DJ and took the microphone from him.
“Students, welcome to Park Street’s first dance of the year!” she cried, and a bunch of people cheered and whistled. “Now it’s time to announce the winners of our first contest. The winning table today raised four hundred dollars for our school.”
Alexis gasped. It still wasn’t sinking in with me, though. Not until Principal LaCosta called our name.
“Let’s hear it for the Cupcake Club!”
Emma let out a loud squeal. Then I realized I was squealing too. We won! We actually won! It was like the sweet icing on top of a delicious cupcake.
The four of us ran up to the DJ booth and Principal LaCosta handed us our prize. “Congratulations, girls! You’ve each won a Park Street Middle School sweatshirt!”
Everyone clapped. I still couldn’t believe it. Then the DJ started to blast the song, “Celebrate!”
Mia draped the sweatshirt over her shoulders. “Victory dance!” she yelled.
Just then Callie ran up to me and gave me a big hug.
“Katie, that’s so awesome!” she said.
Then we both stopped, stared at each other, and started to laugh. We were both wearing the same dress! I had forgotten that purple was Callie’s favorite color.
“You look great!” she said.
“You do too!” I laughed. I wondered if Sydney told Callie she thought the dress was ugly.
Mia, Alexis, and Emma were running out to the dance floor. I didn’t know I was doing it, but I must have been following them with my eyes. A kind of sad smile crossed Callie’s face.
“Go dance with your friends,” she said.
Callie was the one who said we should make new friends in middle school. When she first said that, I was hurt. But she was right. It felt good to have new friends, but it felt good to have old friends, too.
“Come dance with us,” I said.
Callie shook her head. “No, you go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” I told her, moving toward the club. Then I looked back. I saw her walking toward Sydney, Maggie, and Bella. Sydney did not look happy.
“Hey, Callie!” I called. She turned around. “I’m glad we’re friends!” I yelled. I said it loud, so she could hear it over the music. But I also said it so Sydney could hear me.
“Me too!” Callie called back, and then walked toward the PGC.
I ran off to dance with the Cupcake Club. As I waved my silly arms in the air, I realized something.
The first day of middle school had been awful. Callie had let me down. I got into trouble. Things did not go the way I planned at all.
But the weird thing was that middle school was not a total disaster. Everything had worked out, somehow.
Maybe it was time for a new recipe.
Mix together:
One purple dress.
One corny mom.
Two hundred and four cupcakes.
Three new friends.
One old friend.
Stir gently until they’re all blended together.
