Oopsy Daisy

by Lauren Myracle

  She just sits in the back seat of the SUV in gray sweats and a soft white T-shirt, because sorry, that’s all the Lock-In is getting from her in the way of pj’s.

  Yasaman will be wearing something proper. Most of her skin will be covered, and so will her hair. Katie-Rose will be wearing … oh, who knows? An elephant costume? A long lacy nightgown that she thinks is ironic? A pair of her brother’s Toy Story pajamas?

  As for Milla, she’ll look adorable in some flavor of adorable girl pajamas. They’ll be the sort of pajamas that are meant to be pajamas rather than ending up that way just because they’re soft and comfy.

  When Violet thinks about Milla … hmm. What sensations arise in her body? What does she feel? She feels a slight tightness around her ribs, because Milla called her mom. She told her all about the Lock-In, which Violet did at one point want to attend, only that was before she had such a good day with her mom yesterday. Maybe she changed her mind out of a superstitious fear that things could fall apart again if she wasn’t there to hold them together.

  So yeah, there was some anger at Milla for being a busybody, but Violet pretty much let it go when she saw how happy her mom was that Violet was going to a party, a real live party with friends and pizza and too much Coke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, you silly?” her mom said after getting off the phone with Milla. “I want you to have fun. If you don’t, I’m not doing my job as your mother.”

  Violet had never thought about it like that.

  “I’ve been worried about you,” her mom continued. “When I was your age, I ran all over the place with my friends. But I haven’t met a single one of your friends, Violet. Your father tells me you have friends, and that I need to give things time to readjust, but it’s hard.”

  “I know,” Violet said.

  “Well … will I get to meet Camilla when we drop you off? She sounded very nice on the phone.”

  “Of course, Mom. My three best friends will all be there. If you want me to, I’ll introduce you to all of them.”

  Her mother readily agreed, and when they pull into the Rivendell parking lot, she flips the mirror open on her visor and checks her lipstick.

  “You look great,” Violet’s dad says.

  “You smell good, too,” Violet adds. Fleur de la Fée, the violet-scented perfume that smells like it’s supposed to again, now that her mom’s acting like she’s supposed to again.

  “I don’t see many cars,” Violet’s mom muses. “I thought lots of kids were coming? I like the building, though. It looks like a very nice school.”

  “It is, and the other kids are probably already here. It started at six.”

  “At six?” Violet’s mother cries. “But it’s—”

  “It’s fine,” Violet’s dad says. “Violet will make a fashionable entrance. You can handle that, right, Violet?”

  “Absolutely,” Violet says. She’s handled so many things this week, all of them harder than making a fashionable entrance.

  She climbs out of the Range Rover. It’s so high up, she has to jump to the ground. “You two coming?” she asks her parents.

  “As long as you don’t mind,” Violet’s mom says. “And as long as you’re telling the truth when you say you don’t mind.”

  “Come on,” Violet says, linking her arm through her mother’s.

  They cross the parking lot, her father walking alongside them. They go up the stairs to Rivendell’s front door. It’s locked, probably for safety reasons since it’s a nighttime event.

  Violet’s dad raps on the glass door, and Thomas glances over. He’s walking on his hands. Who knows why? He tumbles to the floor and calls out, “Max!” That’s what it looks like he says, anyway.

  Violet and her parents are in the dark, and the Lock-In kids are inside, lit up like stars, and Violet has a moment of panic. She almost turns around. She almost decides this was a very, very bad idea.

  Then she catches the swish of blond hair from over in the corner of the commons, and Milla is dashing over with Max right behind her. She pushes open the door, and wham. Sounds grow louder and lights grow brighter. There’s lots of laughter and rowdy conversations. There are pajamas and pajamas and pajamas.

  “Violet! You’re here!” Milla exclaims. She throws herself at Violet and embraces her. Violet staggers, but keeps her balance.

  Milla pulls back. To Violet’s mother, she says, “And you’re Violet’s mom?”

  “I am,” she says. Her smile is as warm as Milla’s.

  “It’s really nice to meet you,” Milla says. She looks from Violet to her mom. “You two look alike. Do people always tell you that?”

  “All the time,” Violet and her mother say in unison.

  Milla laughs. So do Violet and her mom.

  “Two peas in a pod,” Violet’s dad says.

  “Da-a-a-ad,” Violet groans. In Atlanta, people did remark all the time about how much Violet and her mom resembled each other, and “two peas in a pod” was her dad’s standard response.

  This is the first time it’s happened in California, though. Violet doesn’t really mind her dad’s comment. She’s not mad at Milla anymore, either. Her anger just … whish. Went away.

  Milla turns and calls, “Yaz! Katie-Rose! Get over here!”

  Yasaman is already flying their way. Knowing Yaz, she noticed Violet’s presence almost as soon as Milla did. As for Katie-Rose, she seems to be having a food fight with …

  “Is that Preston?” Violet says.

  “Uh-huh,” Yasaman says, breathing slightly harder than normal. Her hijab flutters over her shoulders. “Hi, Mrs. Truitt,” she says, smiling shyly at Violet’s mom. As polite as ever, she turns to Violet’s dad and includes him as well. “Hi, Mr. Truitt.”

  Katie-Rose spots the group by the front door, and her eyes grow huge. She slaps a battered slice of pizza on Preston’s chest, and it promptly falls off.

  “Hey!” Preston complains, but Katie-Rose has abandoned him and is running over. There is pepperoni sauce in her hair. Violet looks closer. There is also an actual pepperoni in her hair.

  “Mom, this is Katie-Rose,” Violet says.

  “You’re Violet’s mom?” Katie-Rose says. “Her real live mom, in the flesh and everything?”

  “Oh good grief,” Violet mutters, but her mom takes it in stride. It occurs to Violet that she needs to trust her mom more, and also that she probably shouldn’t be surprised at how well Violet’s mom is dealing with her friends, even over-the-top Katie-Rose. Katie-Rose is no manicured mall walker, that’s for sure.

  Holding out her arm, Violet’s mom says, “Real and in the flesh. You can pinch me if you’d like.”

  Katie-Rose does, of course, because she’s Katie-Rose. She leaves pizza sauce on Violet’s mom’s skin.

  “Oopsy daisy,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.

  “No big deal,” Violet says. She holds the doors open for her parents. “Come on in—we’ll find a napkin and I can introduce both of y’all to some more people, like my teachers, for example.”

  Mr. Emerson and Ms. Perez are already heading their way, drawn by the commotion. Other kids glance over with interest. Natalia, Ava, Becca. Preston and Thomas and … whoa, Cyril Remkiwicz? Violet never would have expected to see Cyril here, but he sure seems happy, in his Eeyore way, to see her. She waves. He waves back.

  “You have a lot of friends,” Violet’s mom comments.

  I do, Violet marvels.

  “Yep, she does,” Yasaman announces. There’s something different about Yaz, but Violet can’t put her finger on it. It’s something good, whatever it is. She’ll figure it out eventually. Also, at some point, she needs to ask how the trapeze class went, for Yaz and Katie-Rose. Plus she wants to hear how things are progressing with Mr.

  Emerson and Ms. Perez, and she can’t forget to get the latest scoop on Max and Milla.

  Oh, and Katie-Rose and Preston! Is there possibly a scoop developing between them? No? Yes? Maybe? Along the same lines, is it possible that
any bottles have made guest appearances at this shindig, as in the spinning sort of bottles? If so, who spun them? Who was there when they stopped spinning and switched to pointing?

  There’s so much life going on all around her, and she almost missed it by staying home. She almost missed it, and not only that, but she almost made her mom miss it, too. Her mom’s face is bright as she makes easy chit-chat with Ms. Perez. Her dad is more reserved, but he’s certainly friendly as he shakes Mr. Emerson’s hand.

  Milla’s arm loops around Violet’s waist, and Yasaman, who’s on her other side, squeezes Violet’s hand. Katie-Rose moves behind them and throws both arms around all three of them.

  “Mmm-wah!” Katie-Rose says, planting a smooch on Milla’s cheek. She angles in and kisses Violet and Yasaman as well. “And mmm-wah and mmm-wah!”

  “Katie-Rose!” Milla says. Her hand goes to her cheek.

  “Do I have pizza sauce on me? Did you pizza-sauce me, Katie-Rose?”

  Yasaman giggles as she wipes off her cheek.

  Violet soaks up the moment and commits it to memory, hugging her friends tight.

  You make my heart sing; you give my imagination wings. Thank you … and you and you and you. You know who you are.

  *really* likes tweens and pretweens; she’d rather sit at the kids’ table than at the boring grown-up table any day. She’s written squillions of books, including the bestselling Internet Girls series and the Winnie Years series, and she is SO SUPER EXCITED about the Flower Power series. Why? Because at last she’s written books that blend the thrills of social media with the goofy, wonderful madness of fifth grade.

  Visit her on the web at laurenmyracle.com, and come hang with Milla, Violet, Yasaman, and Katie-Rose at flowerpowerbooks.info.