by Alex Morgan
What do u mean? Jessi asked. Of course it’s a double date.
But I thought we were just going to the mall, I typed.
That’s a date! Jessi texted back.
That’s when I noticed that we were at a stoplight—and my dad was looking right at the phone in my lap.
“Nobody says this has to be a date,” he said.
I groaned and put my head in my hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Listen, it’s not a big deal,” Dad said. “In fact, it shouldn’t be, especially at your age. Just hang out and have fun.”
“Exactly!” Jessi piped up.
“But what if they think it’s a double date?” I asked.
“Then just tell them your dad said you’re not allowed to date until you’re sixteen,” Dad said.
“Sixteen!” I wailed, but part of me was glad he had said that.
Dad pulled up to the mall entrance. “Where are they meeting you?”
“By the arcade,” Jessi replied. “Cody texted me.”
“Okay, then,” Dad said. “Don’t leave the mall. Keep your phone on. And I’ll meet you right here at six.”
I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Dad.”
Jessi and I headed into the mall and up the escalator. We found Cody and Steven hanging outside the arcade, just like Jessi had said.
“Hey,” Cody said, nodding.
“Hey,” Jessi said.
Steven smiled at me. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said back.
Then nobody said anything for a minute, and I worried that “hey” and “hi” were going to be all anybody could say all night. Then Jessi broke the ice.
“I am undefeated on this thing!” she said, running over to the Dance Party! machine by the front of the arcade. It was one of those arcade games where music played and you had to follow the arrows on a screen and step on the arrows that lit up on the floor.
I nodded. “She is seriously awesome. I’ve seen her.”
Jessi slid a dollar into the machine. “Watch.”
Music started pumping from the machine, and Jessi began to dance, her feet moving like lightning on the pad. A bunch of other kids gathered around to watch.
When the song ended, she jumped off the pad. “And that is how it’s done!” she said, grinning.
Cody jumped up. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, putting a dollar into the machine.
Cody was pretty good, I had to admit—but not as good as Jessi. When he finished, his score was fifty thousand points less than hers.
Jessi smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m hard to beat.”
“My turn!” Steven yelled, and he put his dollar in. The music started, and Steven started . . . well, it wasn’t exactly dancing. He waved his arms around and he stomped on the arrows but never the right ones, and in the middle of the song he tripped over his own feet and had to grab on to the bars on either side of the platform to keep from falling.
It took me a minute to realize that Steven wasn’t a terrible dancer—he was just having fun. I started cracking up, and then I noticed that Jessi was laughing so hard, she was doubled over.
“Dude! You stink!” Cody yelled over the music.
“I’m awesome!” Steven yelled back.
Finally the music ended, and Steven jumped off the machine.
“The master,” he said, bowing. “Your turn, Devin.”
I shook my head. “No way. I can’t follow any of that.” I nodded toward the basketball machine. “Come on. I’m really good at that one.”
So I made ten perfect shots in the basketball machine, and we played some more games, and then we were thirsty and we got lemonade, and before I knew it, it was time to go. Cody and Steven didn’t say anything about dating at all. Basically we just hung out and had fun.
Sometimes I hated it when my dad was right. This time I was really glad that he was.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Hit the lights!” I called.
“On it!” Jessi yelled back.
The bedroom that Zoe shared with her sister went dark before her laptop lit up the room. When we’d gotten to Zoe’s house, Jessi had confiscated Zoe’s laptop and uploaded the video from her phone onto it without telling Zoe what it was. We wanted it to be a surprise.
Frida’s smiling face filled the screen. She was wearing the black fringe dress that Zoe had picked out for her, and she turned from side to side, modeling it for the camera.
Zoe clapped her hands together. “You went to Debi’s!”
“Surprise!” Emma cried. “We all went there this morning for our fittings, and Jessi took a video with her phone so you could see how they looked on us.”
Emma appeared on the screen next, wearing the long, shimmering dress. She tried to twirl around but stumbled and had to grab on to the mirror next to her to keep from falling. You could hear the rest of us giggling and Debi’s loud groan of frustration in the background.
“That Debi needs to chill!” Jessi said. “Hey, I wonder if she’s married. We could introduce her to Coach Valentine.”
We all cracked up.
“Actually, it wouldn’t work. As dorky as it is, at least Coach Valentine has a sense of humor. Debi doesn’t!” I said, just as I saw myself on the video. The blue dress with silver flowers was the prettiest I had ever worn. I smiled at the camera, my hands on my hips.
Next up was Jessi, looking so cute in the sparkly silver dress. She had given me her phone so I could take the video. Jessi posed confidently for the camera, a huge grin on her face.
“You guys look so awesome!” Zoe was all smiles.
“It’s all thanks to you,” I told her. “You should be a stylist. The dresses you picked out for all of us are amazingly perfect!”
Zoe blushed. “It was really fun.”
“And you’re really good at it!” Emma added. “Now you don’t have to worry about our dresses anymore. So you can cross it off your bat mitzvah to-do list!”
Zoe sighed. “That’s great, because I accidentally added another thing to my list. Check this out.”
Zoe held up her phone, showing us a picture of her in a one-shoulder dress. The top was black-and-white sequined stripes flowing into a fluffy black tulle skirt.
“That dress definitely has the drama factor,” Frida said.
“Now I have three dresses I can’t decide between!” Zoe said. “My mom and I went back to Debi’s last night. I was going to only try on the pink and black dresses so I could finally make up my mind. But then I saw this one and I couldn’t resist trying it on.”
“It’s supercute!” Emma said. “But I think I still like the pink one the best.”
Zoe frowned. “I’ve got to make a decision soon!” She sighed, but then her face brightened. “Thanks for coming to help today. I thought we could all work on my party favors. Everything is set up in the craft room. Let’s go!”
Zoe lived in one of those ranch houses with two levels. We walked downstairs through the family room to a small room next to the laundry room.
“Dad wanted this room for a man cave, but with four daughters, he got outvoted,” Zoe joked as she opened the door. Three walls were all shelves, filled with baskets, books, binders, and jars; everything was perfectly organized. The fourth wall had a workstation with a computer and a sewing machine.
In the middle of the room was a square table with six chairs around it. Round black-and-white striped boxes sat on the table along with brown paper bags, hot-glue guns, and other crafting items.
“My party favor theme for the girl guests is Beauty in a Box,” Zoe explained. “I’m going to fill these boxes with bubble bath, makeup, a pedicure kit, the kind of things to pamper yourself and feel pretty with. My sisters and I already finished the gift boxes for the boys,” she said, gesturing to a row of blue-and-white striped boxes on the shelf. “They’re filled with sunglasses and body spray. I still wanted to keep the fashion theme for the boys, but it was hard to figure out what to give them!” She pulled a finished black-
and-white box off a shelf. It had a hot-pink bow on the lid and rhinestones all around. “So would you guys help me sparkle up the girls’ boxes, like this? I’ve got everything. We’ve just got to hot-glue them on.”
“Fun!” Emma said. “But I have to warn you, once I hot-glued my fingers together.”
“Um, Emma, I was there,” Jessi said, and grinned. “You hot-glued your fingers to your cousin’s dog, remember?”
Emma laughed. “First I hot-glued my fingers together. Then I tried to wipe them off. I mistook Daisy for a fluffy white towel! My aunt Jae was so mad.”
We all giggled as we started working on the boxes. I glued the pink bow on top of the box and admired my work. I wasn’t a real crafty person, but it was fun and actually kind of relaxing.
“I can’t believe my bat mitzvah is less than a week away!” Zoe said as we worked. “I feel like there’s still so much I have to do. And now we have the regional game that day.”
I nodded. “The game is in Brightville at eleven a.m. I mapped it out. It’s about an hour away.”
“An hour?” Zoe’s face crumpled. “So we’ll have a long drive and a game. Perfect.”
“We’ll be fine,” Emma said cheerfully as she glued a rhinestone onto the box and not her fingers. “Don’t worry.”
“But I have the temple service at four o’clock, before the party,” Zoe said, looking panicked. “So we’ll have to rush home and get changed in a hurry if we want to be on time.”
“Well, if we get back home by two, you’ll still have a couple of hours to get ready,” Frida offered. “It’s like changing in between scenes when you’re in a play. It’s hectic but fun. And a huge adrenaline rush besides.”
Zoe sighed. “I guess it’ll be okay,” she said nervously. “I’m so glad now that we decided to do the sunset service instead of a morning one. Then it would have been totally ruined. But it’s still going to be crazy!”
Jessi and I exchanged worried glances, but I didn’t know what to say to make Zoe feel better. She was right. It was going to be a hectic day.
Just then Zoe’s mom came into the room.
“Hi, girls,” she said. “Thanks for helping Zoe with the party favors. I just got back from picking up the red carpet runner. Do you all want to see?”
Zoe’s frown was quickly replaced by a smile. “Yes!” We followed into the family room, where a plush red carpet was rolled out across the floor.
Zoe gave a squeal of delight. “Thanks, Mom!” she said as she gave her mom a big hug. “It’s perfect.” She turned to us. “It’s for all of the party guests to walk down, just like at a big-name designer’s fashion show!”
Mrs. Quinlan smiled. “I’m glad you like it. You all must be hungry. I’ll go fix you some snacks,” she said, heading back upstairs.
Frida immediately stepped onto the carpet and struck a pose, one hand on her hip, her head turned and an eyebrow arched. Then she began strutting down the carpet, pretending to wave at her fans. “No autographs, please,” she said, putting a hand dramatically on her forehead.
“Wait! We need music.” Jessi pulled her phone out of her pocket and pressed a button. A song with a bouncy beat filled the air.
“Perfect!” Jessi said. She walked down the carpet, her hips swaying back and forth to the music. When she got to the end, she pretended to stop and pose for a photographer. She whirled around and looked over her shoulder, smiling prettily.
I took my turn afterward, walking down the carpet with a hand on my hip, as if I were a model on a runway. But halfway through I burst out laughing.
“I feel so silly!” I said.
“You’ve got to be fierce!” Frida told me. “Work it like you own it!”
I tried sucking in my cheeks and arching my eyebrows, hoping that looked fierce, but everyone just started laughing instead.
“My turn!” Emma said.
But Jessi stopped her. “You should practice with your heels on. That’s what you were wearing at Debi’s this morning.”
Emma grinned sheepishly. “That’s why I tripped on the video. I’ve got them in my bag. Wait a sec.” She disappeared up the stairs toward Zoe’s room.
“My mom is letting me wear heels for the first time for the party,” Jessi told us while Emma was gone. “They are supercute! The heel isn’t that high, though.”
I shook my head. “I just want to be comfortable. I’ll stick to flats, or better yet, flip-flops!”
Emma came back down the stairs, carrying the gold, sparkly heels like they were a snake about to bite her. She held the heels by the tips of her fingers, as far away from her body as possible.
“They are too cute!” Zoe gushed. “The heel isn’t that big.”
“Yeah, but I can trip in my bare feet,” Emma reminded her.
Emma sat on the bottom step and put the shoes on. “Here goes nothing,” she said as she stood up. Emma was pretty tall, but in the heels she looked even taller. She took a few cautious steps, and her face brightened. “Not too bad,” she said as she stepped onto the plush red rug.
Jessi held up her phone, and the music filled the air. Emma struck a pose and then launched down the carpet, bouncing to the beat as she went.
“Go, Emma!” Frida hooted, while Zoe and I clapped.
“I’m doing it!” she cried. In her excitement she began to walk even faster. Her heel caught the edge of the carpet, and a look of panic filled her face.
“Help!” she called, her arms flailing wildly in the air.
Zoe and I rushed over to catch her, but it was too late. Emma sat in a crumpled heap on the red carpet, her face buried in her hands and her body shaking.
“Emma! Are you okay?” I leaned over her, worried.
Emma looked up. Her face was bright red, but she wasn’t crying. She was laughing!
“I guess my career as a model is over before it even started,” she said between giggles.
Zoe sat down next to her and put an arm around her. “Maybe we should go shopping for some flats.”
“And a helmet and some elbow pads,” Emma said. “I think I need safety gear on at all times.”
We started laughing hysterically.
“See, Zoe,” Emma said after she caught her breath. “You don’t have to worry about Saturday. No matter what happens, we’ll have a good time.”
I laughed. “But bring some safety gear just in case!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I was still smiling when my mom picked me up at Zoe’s house later that afternoon. We’d finished the party favor boxes, and they looked great. Zoe seemed a lot more relaxed about the game and her bat mitzvah on Saturday, although she was still obsessing about all the last-minute details.
“You look like you had a good time,” my mom remarked as I got into the van.
I told her all about Emma’s adventures in heels. “But I’m going to stick to flats. Or how about a pair of sparkly flip-flops?”
My mom laughed. “You’ve been living in flip-flops ever since we moved to California.”
She was right. I had a pair in just about every color.
“I have something I want to talk to you about,” my mom said, in that serious tone of voice she usually reserved for when I was in trouble. I racked my brains. I couldn’t think of anything wrong I had done! But I was off the hook. Sort of.
“That reporter from the Kentville Chronicle, Cassidy Vale, called while you were at Zoe’s,” my mom said.
“Ugh!” I said angrily. “What did she want?”
“She wanted to interview you before the regional play-off game,” Mom said. “What do you think?”
I groaned. “No way! She never even admitted she was wrong. What if she gets my words mixed up again? I can’t risk it.”
Mom nodded. “I understand. But your dad and I were talking about it. What if you wrote a letter to the newspaper? That way it could be in your own words and you could keep a copy, so if anything got printed wrong, you would have proof.”
Hmmmm. That was an interesting
idea. “Kind of like a letter to the editor?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Mom said.
I smiled. “I’ll write it as soon as we get home!”
As soon as we pulled into the driveway, I was out of the van like a shot. I raced upstairs and sat down at my computer, eager to finally get my side of the story in print. When I wrote a paper for class, sometimes I felt like I was having a staring contest with my computer screen. I couldn’t think of what to say and I’d just look at my screen, hoping the words would magically appear. But I didn’t have that problem at all today. The words came out in a rush, almost faster than I could type them.
Dear Kentville Chronicle,
My name is Devin Burke, and I am a seventh grader at Kentville Middle School. But more important, I am one of the Kicks. And the Kicks will be playing in the regional play-offs against the Brightville Bolts this Saturday.
When I first joined the Kangaroos and became a member of the Kicks, the team’s record was not great. But we all worked together as a team, each and every one of us, and we worked hard to get where we are today, which is the Kicks’ first play-off season in almost twenty years. We did it together, and every single person on the team made it happen.
In an article that ran earlier in the Chronicle, I was misquoted as saying “I don’t know where my team would be without me.” What I really said was, “I don’t know where I’d be without my team.” I want to say it again: I don’t know where I’d be without my team. They’ve shown me that anything is possible if you work hard. And we’ve all become friends. In fact, we’re more like a family. And whether we win or lose, we’ll always be a team.
Go, Kicks!
Sincerely,
Devin Burke
I let out a big sigh as I finished. It felt good to get that off my chest. I would ask my mom to read it before I e-mailed it to the newspaper. I only hoped the Chronicle would print it!
The next day after school we had practice—still without Coach Flores. But I was strangely getting used to Coach Valentine. His method of coaching might have been strict, but it had its upsides too.
“Hustle, hustle, hustle!” he yelled as we were dribbling through the cones. I used to jump every time he yelled, but now it just made me go faster.
