Katie and the Cupcake War (11 page)

Mia didn't hesitate.
Do u have ur white flats?

I quickly checked my bag. Yes! I had them.

Yes!
I said.

Good. Wear those. Any sweaters?
Mia asked.

I looked through my bag again.

Green with short sleeves or white with long sleeves,
I wrote.

Try the green,
Mia texted back.

I wasn't sure if the green would go with orange and pink, but then again, I love to wear lots of colors together. I tried it on, took another picture, and texted Mia. I had to admit that it looked pretty good.

Great!
she replied.
Will bring a necklace 4 u that'll look great with your outfit.

Then my phone started to ring. It was my mom.

Gotta go,
I texted, then I answered the phone.

“Hi, sweetie, how's it going?” Mom asked.

“How's Grandma?” I asked her back.

I heard Callie's footsteps on the stairs, so I quickly left her bedroom. I went into the bathroom and then closed the door behind me.

“She's doing great!” Mom said, and she sounded happy and relieved. “She's awake and alert. The doctors say the surgery went well, and she can go home in a few days.”

“That's great!” I said. I suddenly felt a lot lighter, as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't realize how much I had been secretly worrying about Grandma until Mom said she was going to be all right.

“So how did the fund-raiser go?” Mom asked.

“Well . . . ,” I began, and then I told her the whole story.

“That's terrible!” Mom said. “You and I know that Callie would never put alcohol in cupcakes.”

“I know, Mom,” I said. “But I guess they're in trouble because . . . well . . . it's complicated.”

“Did you tell Principal LaCosta that you make those cupcakes with her every year?” Mom asked.

“No,” I said.

“You could vouch for her, Katie,” Mom said. “That's what friends do.”

“But we're not friends anymore, Mom,” I said, and my voice was angry. “I keep telling you that!”

Mom was quiet for a minute. “Well, you used to be,” she finally said. “I'm surprised at you, Katie. Keeping quiet is the same thing as not sticking up for someone. You would want her to do the same thing for you.”

“But
she
wouldn't!” I said, and I know my voice was really loud—that's how upset I was. “She's changed, Mom! She's mean and terrible, and she wouldn't stick up for me. Ever!” Why couldn't she just understand?

Mom sighed. “Just because Callie isn't behaving nicely, doesn't mean that you shouldn't.”

“I guess,” I said, but I did not feel like being nice to Callie right now. She got herself into this mess—and now she'd have to deal with it.

W
hen I opened the bathroom door, Callie was standing there. I felt scared for a second. Had she heard what I said to my mom?

“Are you done yet?” Callie asked in a really snotty voice.

“Yeah,” I replied, and I quickly went down the stairs.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were waiting in the living room.

“Katie, you look so pretty!” Callie's mom exclaimed.

“Thanks,” I said.

Mr. Wilson shook his head. “I can't believe how fast you girls are growing up. When Callie comes down, I'll take a picture of you both.”

So we waited for Callie to get dressed. And we waited. Finally, Mrs. Wilson yelled up the stairs.

“Callie, are you ready yet?” she called out.

Callie stomped down the stairs wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“I'm not going,” she said, flopping down on the sofa. “It was unfair, and we aren't going to win, so what's the point?”

Mr. Wilson shook his head. “You're not being a good sport, Callie.”

“Honestly, Callie, I had to plead with Principal LaCosta not to ban you from the dance,” Mrs. Wilson said. She sounded really frustrated. “And now you're not going to go?”

Callie shrugged. “You can't make me.”

Mrs. Wilson looked at her husband, and they must be telepathic or something, because the next thing I knew, Mr. Wilson said, “Okay, Katie. Looks like it's just you and me. I'll give you a ride.”

Riding to the dance without Callie was pretty awkward, but I was also relieved to be away from her for a while.

“I'm sorry about Callie's behavior tonight,” Mr. Wilson said. “She just hasn't been herself this year.”

“Yeah, I know,” I agreed. And then the next
thing just slipped out. “Or last year, either.”

Mr. Wilson nodded. “Callie's having a hard time figuring out where she belongs,” he said. “She's still the same Callie, though.”

I didn't agree with him, but I didn't say anything. I was really glad when he pulled up in front of the school.

“Your mom arranged for Emma's mom to drop you off after the dance,” he said. “See you later, and have a good time!”

“Thanks,” I said, and then I headed inside the school gym.

The place was packed with middle school kids and the parents who were chaperoning. This year, there was a big blue-and-yellow balloon archway over the dj table that looked really cool. Blue-and-yellow crepe paper was strung all across the ceiling.

I spotted Emma, Alexis, and Mia over by the watercoolers. Emma had a pink headband in her hair, and she wore this really cute white dress with tiny pink flowers on it. Mia looked superfashionable, as always, in a dress with a big red-and-purple pattern. (She told me later it's called color blocking.) And Alexis's curly hair was straightened, and she had on a black dress, and her heels were kind of high.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Dylan got to you.”

Alexis nodded. “I couldn't escape.”

“Well, I think you look nice,” I said. “You look like you're in high school.”

Alexis blushed. “Thanks!”

“You all look nice,” I said.

“You do too,” Emma told me.

I looked at Mia. “Thanks to you. If I didn't have my own personal fashion consultant, I'd be lost.”

Mia laughed. “Hey, you're my first client! And here's the necklace I promised you.” She put it on me, and she was right—it was perfect.

As we were talking, I got that weird feeling someone was looking at me. (Has that ever happened to you?) When I turned around, I saw that Maggie and Bella were sitting at a table, and they were surrounded by a bunch of girls. The girls were pointing and whispering.

I frowned. “What's that about?” I asked my friends.

“They've been talking to anyone who'll listen,” Alexis said. “They keep saying the whole contest was fixed.”

“That's crazy,” I said. “They ruined things for themselves.”

Then I heard Maggie get really loud. “Principal
LaCosta just didn't want us to win,” she said. “We were beating the Cupcake Club, and she didn't want to see her teacher's pets lose.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if those Cupcake girls were the ones who told on you,” said one of the girls at the table.

I was getting really mad. “That is ridiculous!” I said.

“They can talk all they want,” Alexis said. “We raised almost five hundred dollars. We're definitely winning.”

But the idea of winning didn't seem so important anymore—especially if people didn't think we deserved it. I spotted Principal LaCosta over by the food table, and I decided to do something, right then and there.

“Be right back,” I told my friends.

Usually I would be afraid to talk to Principal LaCosta, but I guess I was just feeling tired of all the rumors and lies and stuff.

“Principal LaCosta, can I talk to you, please?” I asked.

She turned and saw me. “Oh, hi, Katie. Of course.”

“It's about the Best Friends Club's cupcakes,” I said. “I used to make those cupcakes with Callie
every year, and I know there's no rum in them. She uses imitation rum extract. So maybe you could let them back in the contest. I know they sold a lot of cupcakes, and if they sold the most, then they deserve to win.”

“It's nice of you to stand up for your friend,” Principal LaCosta said. “But the girls' parents already told me about the imitation rum. That's not the issue here. The issue is we simply can't have students promoting alcohol use, even if they're just joking about it. Do you understand?”

I nodded. Mrs. Wilson had said the same thing.

“Thanks,” I said, and then I felt nervous for real, so I walked away. I noticed Maggie and Bella staring at me, and I wondered if they had heard.

I hoped they did, but it didn't matter. I stood up for Callie, and I felt a lot better.

Then Mia ran up and grabbed my arm. “I love this song!” she cried, and then we were all dancing, and suddenly things were fun again.

T
here's a funny thing that happens at a middle school dance. When it starts, most of the girls stay on the left side of the gym, and most of the boys hang out on the right side of the gym. The girls dance with girls, and the boys dance with boys. Then, as the night goes on, everyone starts dancing with one another, boys and girls together. And sometimes boys even ask girls to dance.

About halfway through the dance, I was standing around talking to my friends. Sophie and Lucy were with us, and Beth came over with some girls who I think are all into art, because they were dressed really funky, like Beth. Anyway, we were just talking and laughing and having a good time when the subject turned to boys.

“We need more cute boys in this school!” Sophie was wailing.

“I think Eddie Rossi is cute,” admitted Lucy, and Sophie looked shocked.

“He's, like, two feet taller than you!” Sophie squealed.

“Eddie has a crush on Katie,” Alexis blurted out, and I felt my face get red.

“Alexis! He does not!” I protested.

“Well, I think George Martinez has a crush on Katie,” Sophie said.

I wished I could turn invisible. “How do you know that?” I asked her.

“Because he's waving at you,” Sophie said, pointing across the gym.

I looked, and Sophie was right. George was walking toward us, and he was smiling and waving at us.

Mia grabbed my arm. “Oh my gosh! He's going to ask you to dance!”

“He is not!” I said, but secretly I hoped she was right. Or wrong. I'm not sure! I was so nervous.

Before George could get there, Eddie Rossi walked up from the other direction. And he was walking right toward me.

My friends were stunned. Mia was practically pulling off my arm. I could tell she was dying to
say something, but thankfully everyone kept quiet.

“Hey, Katie,” Eddie said. “I . . . I've been meaning to talk to you about something since school started.”

My heart was pounding so fast. “Oh?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, it's kind of hard to explain, but . . . well, I want to apologize to you.”

That was definitely not what I thought he was going to say!

“Apologize for what?” I asked, confused.

“For the way I made fun of you last year in gym class,” Eddie said. He took a deep breath. “I went to camp this summer with my little brother, and he got teased a lot. It was hard to see. And then we had this whole meeting where we learned about bullying and stuff, and I realized that I did it too.”

I was shocked by Eddie's confession. I didn't think people could change like that.

“I'm sorry your brother got bullied,” I said.

“Thanks. And I'm sorry too,” Eddie said. “For the stuff I said to you. That's one of the things they told us. That it's never too late to apologize.”

“Everything's cool,” I told him. “I really appreciate how you've been sticking up for me lately.”