Catie Conrad: Faith, Friendship and Fashion Disasters

by Angie Spady

  I spent the rest of my wrecked Saturday at home with the Germ . . . and THE STINK BOMB.

  The ONLY good thing that happened was I FINALLY CAME UP WITH AN AWESOME IDEA FOR THE SCHOOL ART CONTEST!

  YES! YES! YES!

  It will take A LOT of work to make my drawing PERFECT, but it’s worth a shot. After sketching and erasing a GAzILLION times, my idea slowly came together. It’s très chic:

  If only I could be on Fashion Star Fever! Then I’d become a millionaire and never have to go to school again!

  Sunday, March 28

  I can’t believe it—the family Mom invited to church actually showed up and sat with us. They just moved to town and seemed pretty cool. Their daughter, Sarah, was the Germ’s age and seemed eager to talk to him. (I SHOULD HAVE WARNED HER!) It didn’t take but two seconds for my goofy brother to show her a pic of that dumb skunk. WHAT A NERD.

  They also have a son named Tyler who’s enrolling in my class tomorrow. He barely said a word to me in church, but that didn’t shock me. I’m beginning to think that ALL BOYS ARE STRANGE! I did notice Tyler talking to Josh though.

  I sat beside Sophie and tried to concentrate on the pastor’s message. Unfortunately, all I could think about was the school dance, Josh, and if I was even going.

  I had a better chance of jetting to Paris for Fashion Week than getting asked to that dance!!!! Even though it was a few days since the broccoli disaster, I still couldn’t speak another word to Josh.

  But when our pastor began talking about Esther, he really got my attention. I couldn’t help but wonder how on earth she had the nerve to go before the king and plead for her people’s lives. Now THAT took some bravery! Maybe I could just brave it and walk right up to Josh at his locker on Monday . . .

  OR NOT. If I said something dumb, Miranda Maroni would no doubt be standing there to LAUGH HER HEAD OFF.

  I tried to block it out of my mind and really think more about Esther. Being the fashion designer that I am, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of dress Esther wore at the banquet. I’m sure it was GORGEOUS!

  Monday, March 29

  Tyler enrolled at my school today. I can’t imagine starting at a new school and having to meet all kinds of new people. That’s gotta be tough. Of course, as soon as Tyler set foot into the building, Miranda had to make SURE that Tyler saw HER. AND she had to make sure that Josh saw her talking to Tyler.

  That girl is BOY CRAZY. Why can’t boys figure her out already? Tyler was totally clueless about the whole thing.

  I tried to ignore her and instead gave Tyler the DL about our teachers. I’d want someone to do the same for me if it were the other way around. Naturally, I warned him about Mr. Finkleman. On the other hand, I promised that he’d love Mrs. Gibson.

  That was easy. If I don’t become a world famous fashion designer, maybe I’ll teach art—just like her. She not only lets us create art with any medium (like clay, paint, pencil, pastels, whatever), but we also get to come up with our OWN ideas instead of being told what to draw.

  She’s nothing like our old art teacher, Mrs. Francis, who made every kid draw the same picture of a cat, over and over and over. By the end of the year, I could draw that goofy cat with my eyes closed!

  If you ask me, Mrs. Francis didn’t know the meaning of art! There’s more to drawing than being a copy “cat.”

  LOLOLOLOLOL!!!!

  Today Mrs. Gibson made a SHOCKING ANNOUNCEMENT on the intercom: “Don’t forget, the big Middle School Art Show will be held on the first Monday after the dance. That’s just three weeks away.”

  Oh, no! This is the worst thing ever!

  I have to get my entry ready ASAP!!! Forget about the dance that no one has asked me to.

  NO PRESSURE, RIGHT???

  I didn’t have any time to waste and went to Mrs. Gibson’s room at break. I decided to show her the très CHIC dress sketch I’ve been working on and get her opinion. I pointed out the off-the-shoulder look, the details along the hemline, and that I planned on coloring it black. (The most chic of all the fashion colors, of course!) And guess what?

  SHE LOVED IT!!!

  She also asked me why I wasn’t turning in a REAL dress.

  How did she KNOW???

  There are only a few people who know I design clothes to ACTUALLY WEAR, and Mrs. Gibson is one of them. But how did she guess I’d already started cutting out some of the black fabric, just for fun?

  I’d only had the nerve to carry one of my purses to school and wear one of the belts I’d made. There was NO WAY I could wear a homemade dress as long as Miranda Maroni was in the building.

  Then Mrs. Gibson reminded me that artists have to be proud of their creations. “Even van Gogh had to be willing to let other people see his work,” she said.

  “I just know you’re going to wow me with your entry!”

  Mrs. Gibson did have a point about needing to be proud of my work. I need to check out van Gogh’s stuff online.

  NOTE TO SELF:

  GOOGLE VAN GOGH ON THE COMPUTER TONIGHT.

  I could NOT concentrate for a SINGLE MINUTE when I went on to Mr. Finkleman’s science class. Instead of filling out the worksheet on atoms, I zoned out and wrote in my diary:

  Four Reasons Why I Should Talk to Josh

  1. He is the cutest boy in class.

  2. I notice him pray before lunch, which is totally cool.

  3. He might even help me with my MATH—which I STINK AT!

  4. I MUST go to the spring dance or be EMBARRASSED FOR LIFE!

  Three Reasons Why I Should NOT Talk to Josh

  1. He probably wouldn’t even speak to me anyway, due to the broccoli humiliation.

  2. Besides being smart in math, he’s also the captain of the basketball team. He probably thinks art kids are WEIRD.

  3. He actually SPEAKS to Miranda, so obviously there is something very wrong with him!

  Then I got busted. Mr. Finkleman saw what I was doing and gave me “the look.”

  I FELT HORRIBLE.

  Luckily, he didn’t send me to detention! But now Finkleman was upset with me, AND Mrs. Gibson was expecting me to WOW her with my art entry.

  AGAIN—NO PRESSURE!!!!!!!!!

  This put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day. And to make matters worse, it happened to be a S.A.D. night at home.

  I do NOT feel like sitting at the dinner table and thinking up something good to say about my day. But I have no choice. . . .

  Mom’s Good Day Fact: Every kid was well behaved at the dentist’s office today, and not a single kid had a cavity. She also said that she could take me dress shopping on Friday. YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Dad’s Good Day Fact: He received a letter from Spirit Ministries, and they can’t wait to see all of us soon.

  (The only way I’m going on a road trip is if Rosey stays at home or in another galaxy!)

  My Good Day Fact: TOTAL BLANK.

  I thought and thought and thought. I finally mentioned, “Mrs. Gibson really likes my idea for the art contest. That’s about it for me.”

  The Germ’s Good Day Fact: Rosey has now learned to sit on command, roll over, and use the toilet in the bathroom.

  OUR bathroom?????

  GRRROOOOSSS!!!!!!!!!

  I will NEVER EVER use that bathroom again—EVER!

  To keep from strangling the Germ, I decided to get on the computer and google: Vincent van Gogh. ANYTHING to quit thinking about a skunk sitting on my toilet!

  After looking at a few of the images, I could see why Mrs. Gibson liked van Gogh’s paintings. Every single painting is colorful, bright, and swirly. I think my favorite is his self-portrait, even though he looks sort of sad. The website said the only person who wanted to buy van Gogh’s art was his brother, Theo, who felt sorry for him. Everyone else made fun of him. Van Gogh died before ever knowing how
popular his work would become. Some of his paintings are now worth MILLIONS of dollars.

  I know how van Gogh must have felt. When I overhead Miranda making fun of my drawings, it really hurt. At least I have Sophie to lean on, just like van Gogh had his brother. Thankfully, ALL of us have Jesus to lean on, no matter what! On some days, it seems like He’s the only one who understands. . . .

  ADD TO PRAYER LIST: Thank God that He’s

  always there for me and understands my feelings.

  Tuesday, March 30

  ANOTHER T.T.

  (Better known as Terrible Tuesday)

  I didn’t do it today.

  I tried.

  But. I. Could. Not. Speak. To. Josh.

  I thought about it at our lockers since his is only a few down from mine. But all I could do was THINK about it. Josh was talking to Tyler, so it should have been easy. Tyler always says, “Hey, Catie” in the hallway, so I KNOW at least one of them would say something.

  BUT I FROZE

  . . . . AGAIN.

  What is wrong with me???

  Obviously there’s nothing wrong with Miranda Maroni. She and Emily waltzed right up to Josh and Tyler and talked to them like it was the easiest thing ever!

  “Hey Josh! Very cool shirt you have on,” Miranda said, smiling like some weird model in a toothpaste commercial. (I could even see her batting her eyelashes all the way from where I was standing!)

  Emily was being nice too. “It’s nice to meet you Tyler. If you need help with finding any of your classes, just ask. I hope you really like it here.”

  And to make matters worse, both Tyler AND Josh smiled and actually TALKED to them!

  That Miranda! She. Is. Boy. Crazy. And she makes it look like fun. I just wish she’d leave Josh alone.

  I just wish . . . I wish I could talk to boys like she does.

  I couldn’t wait until school was over. I went home, grabbed a snack, went up to my room, and hid for the rest of the evening.

  I tried to forget all about the locker drama and brainstormed on my art project, the très chic dress sketch. I even got the fabric out and sewed together a couple of pieces just to see how it looked. Then I went back to my sketch.

  I kept remembering what Mrs. Gibson said about being confident in my work. Still, I wasn’t so sure. . . .

  I might even talk to Mom about it. She has pretty good taste . . . for a mom. She even surprised me by picking up some new pastel pencils on her way home from work. I’m not sure what’s gotten into her, but I’m not going to complain.

  Maybe I should ask for that new cell phone???

  I could hardly wait for Friday to get here! I love looking at fashion—and I was dying to find the perfect dress for the dance. I hope, hope, HOPE someone (Josh???) asks me. But the way my luck was going, I would be tagging along with Sophie. Which would be MORTIFYING.

  Sophie messaged me on my computer this evening, trying to cheer me up:

  Sophie: Catie, CHILL. I’m sure you’ll be at that dance. Seriously, you’re freaking out over nothing.

  Me: Easy for U to say. At least u know who will ask U.... Everyone knows Matt Hutchinson has a crush on U.

  Sophie: Well, he hasn’t asked me yet. lol.

  Me: I know he will. PRAY THAT JOSH ASKS ME!!! I SOOO want to go to the dance with him!!!

  Sophie: Just quit thinking about it. Go sketch some of your fashions or something. Ttyl. Oh, and I have a plan for school 2morrow. Stay tuned.

  I can hardly wait to go shopping with Mom.

  I already know what color dress I want: TURQUOISE. It’s one of my favorite colors. Maybe with silver sequins and silver earrings? And I’m sure I can find some silver heels at the mall with just a touch of bling. CUTEEEEEE!

  Oh how I wish Friday would hurry and get here!!!!!!!!!!!

  But I might as well wear a paper bag over my head if no one asks me to the dance.

  I don’t know WHY I’m even THINKING about a dress! I’m almost positive I’ll be stuck at home with the Germ . . . and Rosey.

  THIS CANNOT HAPPEN. I REPEAT:

  THIS CANNOT HAPPEN!!!!

  Add to Prayer List: Trust in God to work everything out. He promises that, after all!

  Wednesday, March 31

  Today was supposed to have been THE DAY.

  BUT IT WAS NOT.

  BLAME IT ON THE HAMBURGER!!!!!!

  Sophie and I were sitting at our usual table in the cafeteria and discussing her plan, OPERATION: SPRING DANCE. (Looking back on it, I wondered what had been going on in that brain of hers!!!)

  Josh and the rest of the basketball team always sat together. They were usually the first ones to inhale their food and had even invited Tyler to sit with them.

  I didn’t have much time to put our plan into action, and it was just my luck that we had hamburgers for lunch. UGH!

  We had two HUGE choices: a hamburger with cheese or a hamburger without cheese. Yeah, big selection. We had to go to the salad bar if we wanted anything else. THAT’S WHERE MY PLAN WAS SUPPOSED TO GO INTO ACTION.

  So this is how it all went down. . . .

  Sophie: Okay, Catie, so when you see Josh going up to the salad bar to squirt ketchup on his burger, you go up there and put mustard on yours at the same time.

  Me: But I don’t even LIKE mustard on my burger!

  Sophie: Do you want a date to the dance or not?

  Me: Okay, okay . . . good grief!

  Sophie: Just say something like, “Hey, Josh. How’s it going?” Then wait and see what he says.

  Me: THEN what do I say?

  Sophie: How should I know? You can handle it from there.

  Me: This has to be the dumbest idea ever, but okay. Wish me luck.

  Josh went up to the salad bar just like we’d planned. After a sharp elbow in the side from Sophie, I walked up to the salad bar too. Josh had on the coolest blue T-shirt ever, and he even looked at me and SMILED!

  He SMILED!!!

  Then I did something TOTALLY DUMB: I noticed that I’d forgotten to bring my hamburger with me to the salad bar! What was I thinking? My mind went blank, and I couldn’t help but look over at Sophie. Luckily she mouthed the words and reminded me what to say.

  “Uh, how’s it going, Josh?” I asked quickly. I suddenly felt dizzy and stuck out my arm to lean onto the salad bar.

  Fainting was NOT an option.

  Just as Josh was opening his mouth to say, “Hi Catie, how’s—“

  THE DISASTER HAPPENED.

  I had accidentally leaned over onto the mustard pump and—

  KA-WHAM!!!!!!!!

  Mustard squirted ALL OVER Josh’s shirt! IT WAS RUINED! He looked like a human hotdog. Everyone in the entire cafeteria saw it and CRACKED UP. I WANTED TO CRAWL UNDER THE TABLE AND HIDE!

  “Oh, I’m SO SORRY, Josh!” I think I might have raised my voice. “I’m really REALLY sorry!” I grabbed as many napkins as I could from the dispenser and tried to help him wipe the mustard off. But the more I tried, the worse it got.

  “No big deal,” Josh mumbled and then bolted toward the bathroom. He even almost wiped out on a giant blob of mustard on the floor. THIS COULD NOT BE HAPPENING. Maybe this was a bad dream and I’d wake up from it later? It was like everything was going on in SLLLOOOW MOOOOTION. . . .

  That’s when Miranda had to come by and put her two cents in. She was the LAST girl on Earth I wanted to see. “Way to go, Catie,” Miranda said. “Maybe you can serve hotdogs at the next basketball game. You sure know how to use the mustard pump!”

  UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  It took more strength than Samson to hold my tongue and just walk away.

  My FIRST YEAR OF MIDDLE SCHOOL COULDN’T GET ANY WORSE!!

  Maybe I could talk Mom and Dad into letting me switch schools. But what school would even want me? Embarrassing
junk like this travels fast. I’m sure every kid in middle school has texted about it all over town.

  As soon as I got home, I went straight to my room and cried . . . and prayed . . . A LOT. Dad was home and could tell that I was upset. It’s SO HARD explaining stuff like this to my parents.

  Me: Dad, today was the worst day I’ve ever had in my entire life! I’m serious. It was horrible. I really think I need to switch schools.

  Dad: Whoa, hold on a second, Catie. Perhaps you should start from the beginning. Now slowly tell me what happened. It can’t be as bad as you’re saying.

  Me: To start with, in a few weeks, we’re having the goofiest dance ever at school. Some of the girls are going to the dance with guys. But I don’t even know if I’m going! Nobody’s asked me to go.

  Dad: Why don’t you just go with your friends and have fun? Is that what this is all about?

  Me: Yes! I was HOPING Josh Henderson would ask me to go with him. But NO, I had to squirt mustard all over him in the cafeteria today! My life is ruined.

  Dad: Josh Henderson from church? I’m sure he’s already forgiven you, honey. I can tell this dance is important to you, but your life isn’t ruined. I think the best thing to do is pray about it. Take this to God, and then trust that He’ll handle it.

  Me: Oh, okay . . .

  whatever, Dad. Thanks.

  I know Dad was trying to make me feel better, but sometimes he just doesn’t get it. I did take his advice, though, and read Jeremiah 32:27: