Alexis and the Missing Ingredient (9 page)

“You say it like it's a bad thing!” I said, kind of joking but a little hurt.

“It's a good thing,” said Mr. Cruz. “Trust me.”

“That's why we keep you around!” joked Katie. But it didn't really come out as a joke.

“Ha-ha,” I said lamely, but there was an awkward silence, and I think everyone was wondering for a minute if that
was
why they kept me around. Or at least I know
I
was wondering.

“Why do you keep
me
around?” Ava asked lightly, but I could tell she was kind of fishing.

“Because you know me . . . You've known me longer than anyone, and you're fun,” said Mia decisively.

“Ahem,” said Mr. Cruz.

“Sorry, longer than anyone except my parents!” said Mia, laughing and shaking her head again. “You see? I can't win!”

“Okay, so why do you keep
me
around?” asked Katie.

“Because you're fun also, and you make me laugh,” said Mia.

“And what about me?” said Mr. Cruz. “Why do you keep me around?”

“Because you pay for everything!” Mia giggled.

“Ohhhh!” said Mr. Cruz, pretending Mia had shot him in the heart, and then we all laughed. Another crisis averted.

W
e took the subway uptown and began walking up Sixth Avenue and suddenly, things began to look familiar.

“Hey! It's Radio City Music Hall!” I cried. “I've been there!” I was thrilled to finally have a point of reference, someplace to prove I'd spent
some
time in New York before. “We came in to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular there once!” I looked proudly at Ava, as if to say,
So there
, but she was chatting with Katie and hadn't heard me.

“Isn't it a classic?” asked Mr. Cruz. “I just love it. I should take you this year,
mi amor
,” he said to Mia. “I'll get us some tickets.”

Katie and Ava turned to see what he was so excited about.

“Oh, I'd love to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular with you,” said Mia.

“No way! This is a
Nutcracker
year!” exclaimed Ava, grabbing hold of Mia's hand and swinging it.

“Oh!
The Nutcracker!
I've seen that too, a few times. At Lincoln Center,” I said. I practically felt like the mayor at this point!

“We always go,” said Ava. “I haven't missed a year since I was three.”

“Wow,” I said.

“I'd love to go to both,” said Mia diplomatically.

“What's
The Nutcracker
again?” asked Katie.

Ava's face lit up. “It is a great ballet about a Christmas party, where a girl gets a magical nutcracker as a gift, and then she and her little boyfriend go on a ride to a magical land of sweets. The dancing is amazing, and the costumes are so, so beautiful, and the music!” Ava began singing and dancing along the sidewalk. She was actually pretty good. I noticed she didn't make fun of Katie for not knowing what
The Nutcracker
was. Still, I was trying to be the peacemaker.
Celebrity Ballroom,
I thought.

“Hey, that's right! You're a ballerina!” I said.

“Well, I study ballet,” Ava admitted modestly.

“Oh, you should see her. She's amazing!” Mia said proudly.

“Gosh, I love dance. Of all kinds. Have you ever danced in
The Nutcracker
?” I asked.

“Well,” said Ava, looking down shyly. “I might this year. I'll know soon!”

“Whaaat? Oh, Avy! You didn't tell me you'd tried out!” squealed Mia.

Ava blushed. “I didn't want to say anything until I heard.”

“So when do you hear?” asked Mia.

“Next week!” cried Ava.

“Ooohh!” She and Mia held hands and jumped up and down.

“I tell you, walking down the street with this gaggle is pretty wild!” said Mr. Cruz.

“Oh, Papi, you ain't seen nothin' yet!” said Mia with a laugh.

I noticed Mia hadn't given Ava a hard time about not telling her what she was up to. I wondered if it was harder to be the one who leaves or the one who is left. I guess it's hard both ways.

At the MOMA, which turned out to stand for the Museum of Modern Art (I figured it out on my own!), Katie and Mia were obsessed with seeing paintings by this artist, Wayne Thiebaud, who was having a big show there. It turns out he's known for
painting pictures of stuff in bakeries, like cases full of pies or slices of cake lined up on plates, and the paint's so thick, it looks like real frosting and real filling. The paintings were actually all delicious-looking, so it turned out to be a really fun show to see.

I wasn't that into the rest of the art, and luckily, neither was Katie. She and I kind of hung back while the New Yorkers, Mia and Ava, raced from room to room, visiting sculptures and paintings, like they were old friends. Mia's dad was into it too, which made sense, I guess, since he is an architect.

“I guess it would be pretty cool to grow up here,” admitted Katie as we sat on a leather bench and watched Mia and Ava fearlessly go up to a tour leader and start asking questions.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It would be different, that's for sure.”

We were quiet for a minute, and then Katie said, “What did Madame Khalil tell you about yourself that you didn't already know?”

I thought for a minute, then I looked at Katie and giggled. “Not much. What about you?”

She started laughing really hard. “Nothing! Isn't that funny?”

She started copying Madame Khalil, saying, “You have a very strong head line. You are very, very smart lady! I think you are getting the good grades in school, no?” The two of us were gasping from laughing.

Soon Mia and Ava spied us and came over to see what was so funny. But neither of us wanted to hurt Mia's feelings by criticizing Madame Khalil, so we said it was a little boy we spotted picking his nose who'd made us laugh.

Mia kind of laughed a little at that, and I, for one, felt bad about lying, but it had to be done.

“Mia, what was it like to grow up here? Compared to Maple Grove, I mean,” I asked.

I don't think she was expecting the question, so it took her a little by surprise.

“Seriously? Or are you joking?” she asked.

“No, seriously.”

She thought for a minute. “Well, here it's not as much about fitting in, so that's easier. You can do your own thing. But it's more about finding your way, which can be harder, because there are a lot more choices here than there, you know? Sometimes it's better to have fewer choices.” She shrugged. “Sometimes not.”

“Here is way more fun,” added Ava. “No offense.”

Katie and I looked at each other, then back at her. “None taken,” I said.

“It's sort of like . . . New York has different things for different moods. If you feel one way, you do one thing; if you feel another, you do another,” said Mia.

“Kind of like friends?” I asked. Everyone looked at me, so I elaborated. “Like, some friends are fun to do certain kinds of things with, and some friends are fun to do others.”

“Yeah,” agreed Mia. “Or maybe some friends get you to do one kind of thing, because you share those interests or maybe they push you to do things you wouldn't normally do, and other friends have other purposes.”

We were all quiet, thinking about this. I don't think anyone wanted this time to ask what their purpose was in Mia's life. At least I didn't. What if she said I had no purpose? (Other than always being prepared, obviously.)

“Wow, I think this museum's making us think too much,” said Mia. “Let's get out of here!” She jumped up and, with a grin, waved us on to find her dad.

I, for one, was sorry Emma had missed the Wayne Thiebaud show, but I wasn't about to say that out loud.

We walked uptown a little more and cut through Central Park to get to Bloomingdale's. I'd never been before, but Emma had told me about it, and she was pretty impressed by its size and everything they had for sale. I'd also heard Dylan talk about it extensively, so I decided it would be a good place to buy her a souvenir.

Mr. Cruz told us he'd go have a coffee in the café and read the paper. He said he needed a break from all the girliness. We just laughed, and Mia told him he was lucky to get such an insider's view of the world of women. We would meet him in an hour.

I couldn't stop marveling at all the inventory they had in the store. I mean, they must have had millions of dollars of stuff just sitting there, waiting to be bought. I suddenly remembered that Ava was into economics, so we struck up a conversation about trade and importing and sweatshops, where they have kids sewing clothes for pennies a day in poor countries.

“How do you know so much about all this?” asked Ava. I could tell she was impressed, and it made me like her a little more than I had yesterday.

“Well, my parents are both in finance, so we talk
about this kind of stuff at dinner, at home.”

“Me too!” exclaimed Ava. “My mom is in finance, so she reads us articles from the newspaper at the breakfast table, and then we discuss them.”

Up ahead, I saw Katie and Mia swoop down on some cool clothes.

“Was Mia always really into fashion?” I asked. Part of me hated to admit Ava might be the expert on Mia; I didn't feel like giving her a bigger head than she already had on that subject, but part of me also felt like she did deserve some credit as Mia's oldest friend.

“Yes, always! Like, obsessed! My mom has pictures of us playing dress up in nursery school, and Mia is decked out. Full-on jewels, accessories, high heels, a purse, sunglasses—you name it!”

We started laughing, and Katie and Mia turned back. “What's so funny?” asked Mia.

“Oh, Ava's just telling stories about when you were little, how fashion obsessed you were.”

“Ava?” a voice called from the other side of a display. “Avaluna Ahnamana-Maniac?!”

Mia, Katie, and I looked at one another in confusion, but Ava's face lit up.

“Caroleena-in-a-Betweena-Jelly-Beana Phelan? Where are you?” she cried.

What on Earth?

A tiny girl with flaming red hair and a zillion freckles popped out her head from behind a rack of clothes. “It's you!” she exclaimed, and then she raced out and flung herself into Ava's arms.

“Hiiiii-eeee!” squealed Ava, hugging this creature mercilessly.

“Where have you been all weekend? I've been calling and calling!” accused Caroleena.

“I've been . . . I've been around! Where have you been?” Ava asked.

Around?
Mia, Katie, and I exchanged another look.

“I thought we were doing something after school yesterday, but then you took off! Since when do you just take off like that?”

“Sorry! I just . . . My friend surprised me. My friends, I mean,” Ava corrected herself. “Here! Meet Katie and Alexis, and this is my old friend Mia I told you about, remember? Who moved away before you came?”