Fashion Academy (4 page)

On the bus ride home, Mickey thought hard about her Apparel Arts homework assignment, closing her eyes and trying to picture what her shirt might look like. She saw swirls of color and an array of textures—but what were they? She was completely lost in thought until a banana peel came sailing through the air and landed on her head.

The boys in the last row of the bus were having a food fight.

“Settle down!” the bus driver barked. “No throwing garbage on my bus!”

Mickey was about to stand up and hurl the peel back at the unruly group, when a brilliant idea suddenly came to her. She just needed to get home before Aunt Olive!

When the bus finally pulled up to her corner, Mickey jumped off and bounded up the stairs to her aunt's apartment. She let herself in and headed straight for the kitchen. She glanced at the bird clock on the wall—it was four fifteen. Her aunt would be home from work by five thirty, so there was no time to waste or even sketch. She pulled the white T-shirt out of her backpack and threw it down on the kitchen table. Then she began rummaging through the fridge and cupboard shelves. Amazingly, she found just what she needed: beets, raspberries, blueberries, and a bag of dried cranberries. She crumpled the shirt into a large mixing bowl, then began crushing the beets and berries till the garment was streaked with purple, red, and blue smudges. Using a needle to pierce the cranberries, she secured them with thread to the neckline of the shirt.

She stood back and admired her handiwork. It still needed something. But what? She opened the fridge again and spied the perfect thing: a huge head of red cabbage. She quickly stripped off the leaves and sewed them to the hem of the shirt. From a distance, they looked like purple-and-white ruffles.

Just then, she heard Olive's key in the door. She quickly swept all the leftover food and mashed berries into the garbage and tried to wipe the red stains off the countertop.

“Mackenzie? Are you home?” her aunt called.

“Um, I'm in the kitchen. Be out in a sec!” She carefully folded the shirt into a plastic bag and stuffed it in her backpack just as her aunt was walking into the kitchen.

“You can help me sauté the red cabbage for dinner,” Olive said, going to the sink to wash up.

Mickey gulped. “The red cabbage?”

Olive opened the fridge and searched. “Yes, I was sure I put it right here in the crisper.”

Mickey thought quickly. “Oh,
that
red cabbage. I'm so sorry, Aunt Olive. I ate it for my after-school snack.”

Olive stared. “You ate an entire head of red cabbage? Raw?”

“Yeah, it was really yummy. I couldn't help myself.”

“Well,” Olive replied, wiping her hands on her apron. “I'll just have to run out to the grocery and get another. And if you like it so much, I'll get you one for tomorrow as well.”

• • •

Mickey breathed a huge sigh of relief. She waited till she heard the door slam to call her mom at Wanamaker's and fill her in on her first day.

“How was it, Mickey Mouse?” Her mom was dying to know.

“It was good, just different,” Mickey explained. “I'm really excited for my Apparel Arts assignment that's due tomorrow. I think I rocked it.”

“Of course you did,” her mom replied. “I would expect nothing less. Did you make friends?”

“Um, yeah, a couple. This boy JC seemed nice.”

“Is Aunt Olive driving you up the walls yet?” her mom pushed. “Is she making you eat kale milk shakes for breakfast?”

“She just went out to get us some dinner,” Mickey said. “Don't worry, Jordana. I'm fine.”

She heard a client in the background asking her mom something about waterproof mascara. “Gotta run, Mouse! Call ya later!”

Convincing her mom FAB was fab was one thing; convincing her best friend was another.

“Are the kids stuck up?” Annabelle wanted to know when Mickey called her next. “I bet they are, right?”

Mickey told her all about Jade and Jake's grand entrance, and how JC carried his Chihuahua everywhere. “There are kids named Mars and South East in my design class,” she added.

“They sound really weird,” Annabelle said. “I got my schedule today, and it's awesome. I have Dance for first Arts Rotation!”

“Cool,” Mickey said, trying to sound excited for her friend. If she had stayed in Philly, they would have been walking to school together every day.

“Oh! And my mom took Becky Adams and me for froyo after school! They've got this awesome new flavor that tastes exactly like chocolate milk!”

Mickey missed Annabelle. And froyo. And chocolate milk. “So you and Becky are now besties?” she asked, fingering the silver thimble charm around her neck. “I thought you hated her because she made fun of your braces last year?”

“Nah, she's okay. We share a locker, and she's in my Spanish and math classes.”

Mickey nodded. “Sounds cool.”

“Well, I gotta run, Mick. I have tons of homework!” She hung up before Mickey could say good-bye.

• • •

Olive walked back into the apartment and placed two red cabbages on the kitchen table. “I had to hike all the way to 90th Street to get organic ones,” she said, out of breath from climbing the stairs. Then she noticed Mickey's long face.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. My best friend just seems really busy.”

Olive handed her a pot to put the cabbage in. “You know what they say, ‘Out of sight, out of mind…'” her aunt reminded her. “People have to get on with their lives whether or not you're there.”

Mickey knew that was true. She didn't expect her mom to stop working or Annabelle to stop going to their favorite froyo place. But she also didn't expect to miss them so much.

“How was your first day of school?” Olive asked. “Everything you thought it would be?”

Mickey didn't feel like fibbing anymore. “It was hard. I couldn't find my classes, and the kids thought I was weird and kind of ignored me.” She waited for her aunt to say something, anything, to make her feel better.

Olive pursed her lips. “I'm not sure I'm the best person to give you advice, Mackenzie. I've never been a mother, and I don't have very many friends.”

Well, that was true…

“But I do know that most birds will eventually find a flock to fly with. Give it time.”

The next day, Mickey couldn't wait till third period to present her World Hunger shirt. She made sure she dressed the part: a pale-blue vintage silk blouse over red plaid leggings and mismatched sneakers—one blue, one red. She topped it off with a blue feathered fascinator hat—just like she'd seen Kate Middleton wear on many a royal occasion. The outfit made her feel regal and smart at the same time. Yet when she climbed on the bus, the whispers started.

“What is she wearing on her head?” one boy asked, snickering. “It looks like a dead pigeon.”

“And who wears two different colored sneakers?” another girl remarked. “That is so elementary school!”

Mickey pretended not to hear, but the comments hurt. When she got to her Apparel Arts class, things weren't any better.

“Do you own a mirror?” Mars asked her. “I mean seriously—what are you wearing?”

Mickey knew what she wanted to say: “I don't care what you think about my style, because that's just it—it's
my
style!” Instead, she shrugged. “I was trying something a little different.”

“A little different?” South chuckled. “That's putting it mildly! Ouch! It hurts my eyes just to look at you!”

Thankfully, Mr. Kaye walked in before anyone else could poke fun at her outfit. “Take out your homework assignments,” he instructed them.

Mickey opened her backpack and dug inside for her shirt. She noticed that something smelled sour as she pulled it out, but she decided to put it on and model it anyway.

“What
is
that?” Mars asked, checking out her work. “Is it tie-dye?”

“Kinda,” Mickey replied. “But all natural—I used fruit.”

Gabriel pushed in to get a closer look, then suddenly backed away. “It's not bad looking, but what's that smell?”

South sniffed Mickey. “OMG! I thought I stepped in something, but it's your project!”

Mickey noticed that her cabbage trim had wilted and did smell a bit like spoiled coleslaw. In fact, her whole backpack did and now so did she.

Mr. Kaye clapped his hands together. “All right, who's ready to present first?” he asked, rubbing his palms together. “I'm eager to see what you've come up with.” Mickey noticed that everyone had put their shirts on the dress forms next to their desks. No one else was modeling their look but her.

Gabriel sat back down at his desk and fanned the air with his folder. “I'll go first,” he volunteered. “If I can be excused after. The smell of her homework is making me wanna barf!”

Mr. Kaye wrinkled his nose. “Something does smell a bit foul in here,” he commented, sniffing around Mickey's desk. “Good heavens! What is that odor?”

Mickey felt like she was back in fourth grade all over again being forced to defend her spring skirt in home ec class. No, her T-shirt didn't look like everyone else's. And yes, it was a bit wilted. But it was one hundred percent original—didn't that count for something?

Mr. Kaye covered his nose with a handkerchief but continued to inspect Mickey's design. He motioned for her to rotate. “This dyeing technique—what is it?”

“Berry juice. I crushed berries into the fabric. And those are dried cranberries for the piping around the neck and cabbage leaves for the ruffle trim. I wanted my shirt to be completely made from food to show how important it is to the world.”

“That is so gross!” South exclaimed. “Who uses spoiled food on a shirt?”

“It wasn't spoiled when I sewed it on yesterday,” Mickey insisted. “I guess I didn't think about what would happen if I kept it in my bag overnight.”

Mr. Kaye borrowed Gabriel's folder to fan the air. “Let's move on, shall we? And Miss Williams, please take off your design and deposit it in the trash outside of the room.” He cracked open the window and inhaled some fresh air. Sadly, Mickey took the shirt off and placed it in the garbage can. When she returned to her seat, her cheeks were red with embarrassment.

No one had used food instead of fabric. Mars manipulated patches of different colored fabric to make a world map and accessorized with a matching macramé necklace; Gabriel drew a globe on his tee with fabric markers and used the blue scraps he wrestled away from Mars to create letters that spelled out “FEED ME” on the back. South sewed a hundred-dollar bill smack in the middle of her shirt.

“It's a bit minimalist, don't you think?” Mr. Kaye asked her. “What does it say to you?”

South stepped back and admired her work. “It says
money
. Which is what the World Hunger Council really wants, isn't it?”

Mr. Kaye thought it over. “I suppose so. But next time, I'd like to see you make more of an effort in your assignment. And I'm deducting points for going over the ten-dollar budget.”

South frowned. “But the hundred-dollar bill didn't cost me anything! My dad just gave it to me.”

As the students packed up to get to their next class, Mr. Kaye called Mickey over to his desk.

“I know you're disappointed with the outcome of your first assignment,” he told her. “But part of being a successful designer is considering how the market will react,” he said. “Clearly, your design was not well received.”

Mickey didn't know what to say. It had seemed like such an amazing idea at the time to use food and not fabric to decorate her shirt.

“That said,” Mr. Kaye continued, “I do wish to commend you for your creativity. Your work shows great promise.”

Mickey's eyes lit up. Was he telling her he liked it? Or even better, that she'd earned a four on this first assignment?

“I am giving you a three, but I know you'll do better next time. I see great potential in you, Miss Williams.”

• • •

Even if she had earned some kind words from Mr. Kaye, Mickey couldn't help but notice the stares from her peers as she walked into the crowded sixth- and seventh-grade lunch period.

In the center of the room, she spied Jade and Jake surrounded by a posse of kids. South had already elbowed into the group. Mickey assumed it had something to do with her bragging about her dad's new duet with Jay-Z—or maybe she gave Jade the hundred-dollar bill from her T-shirt?

When Mickey walked by with her lunch tray, the group grew silent.

“That's her,” she heard South telling Jade. “Don't let her sit here. She stinks like rotten cabbage!”

But instead, Jade called after her. “Do you want to sit with us?” she asked Mickey, shoving her brother over to make room.

“Um, sure, I guess,” Mickey hesitated.

As she edged closer, Jade suddenly slammed her binder down on the empty seat. “Oops, sorry! No fashion faux pas allowed!” The kids at the table all roared with laughter.

Mickey didn't know what to do—hiding in the first-floor girls' bathroom with her lunch tray seemed like a definite possibility. Then she noticed JC waving at her from a corner table.

“I can squeeze you in,” he teased as Mickey took a seat at the otherwise empty table.

He noticed she wasn't smiling. “Bad time in Apparel Arts?” he pressed her for details.

“Epic fail. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“You don't have to,” he replied. “Gabriel filled me in.” He sniffed the air. “But he wasn't kidding—you really do kinda stink.”

Mickey shot him a look. “You're not making me feel any better.”

“I'm not the one who told you to take a bath in eau de cabbage,” he joked.

“I didn't do it on purpose,” Mickey said. “I was just trying to stand out from the crowd.”

JC patted her feathery blue hat. “Well, mission accomplished. You stick out, all right. Look around, Mickey. Do you see anyone who looks like you?”

Mickey surveyed the room—there wasn't a silly hat in sight and not a single pair of mismatched shoes. Maybe she had gone a
tad
overboard with her outfit and her homework assignment.

“I'm not saying it's a bad thing to be a fashion original,” JC continued. “Not if you're Lady Gaga, for example. Or the world's coolest Chihuahua…” He tossed part of his meatloaf sandwich into his bag to feed Madonna. “I'm just saying sometimes less is more. Dial it down a notch.”

“I don't know how to dial it down,” Mickey admitted.

“When's your next assignment for Mr. Kaye due?”

Mickey checked her class schedule. “Three weeks.”

“Great!” JC said, dipping a french fry in a puddle of ketchup on his plate. “That gives us tons of time.”

“For what?” Mickey asked.

“For an extreme makeover!”