Stitches and Stones (7 page)

But it made her feel unsettled for the rest of the
morning. Libby could tell something was up as soon as she sat down at the lunch table.

“What's the matter, Zoey?” she asked.

Kate didn't know about the Gabe incident, but she gave Zoey a meaningful look, urging her to tell Libby and Priti about her blog problems, as they'd talked about on the bus yesterday.

“I've been having problems on Sew Zoey,” Zoey said. “There are a bunch of new readers, and they've been posting some really mean things.”

“Like what?” Priti asked. “I haven't been on the last day or two.”

“Saying that I'm a fraud and I don't even sew my own designs.”

“What?!” Libby exclaimed. “That's ridiculous! Everyone knows you do.”

“Of course
we
know it,” Kate said. “Because we
know
Zoey. But
they
don't—the people on the Internet who don't actually know Zoey for real.”

“They've said lots of other horrible stuff about my designs,” Zoey said. “I finally started blocking people so they can't add comments. But
it seems like as soon as I block one user, a new one pops up.”

“Do you think it's you know who and friends?” Priti asked.

“I don't know,” Zoey sighed. “I have no way of telling. Besides, there are a lot of new users, not just three. I've lost count. It feels like everyone is out to get me. Since when is there a We Hate Sew Zoey fan club?”

“There's got to be some way of finding out who is doing it,” Libby said.

“Ivy's been supernice in school since Ms. Austen gave them all a warning,” Zoey said. “So I don't think it's her. . . .”

“I wonder how long that's going to last,” Kate remarked.

“Me too,” Priti said.

“Me three,” Zoey said. “Because it's not going to last forever.”

It didn't.

Later that afternoon, Zoey came around the corner of the hallway and bumped into you know who
herself, trailed by Shannon and Bree. They were all dressed as punk rockers. Ivy had a fake pink wig and safety pin earrings.

“That dress looks like it's ready for the rag pile,” Bree said.

“I know, right?” Shannon agreed.

“Totally. It's hideous,” Ivy said. “I would never wear that rag to school. Or those horrible mannish boots.”

“They're called Doc Martens,” Zoey said, trying to control the shaking in her voice. “As a matter of fact, a lot of
female
punk rockers wore them.”

She walked away, ignoring the laughter and snide comments that followed her.

It was bad enough that Ivy made comments about Aunt Lulu's boots. But how dare she insult her mom's dress? That hurt Zoey in an even deeper place.

She was still upset about it when Libby's mom dropped off the girls at The Perfect Ten to get their nails painted in the school colors for the grand finale of Spirit Week. Friday was School Colors Day, and the whole school would be gathering in the
auditorium to watch the karaoke competition.

“I'm so excited for tomorrow,” Priti said. “We're totally going to win. I'm sure. Especially now that Zoey is making accessories for our outfits.”

“She is?” Kate said. “Can't wait to see them!”

“Well, they're not ready yet,” Zoey said. “But I've got the designs all worked out.”

“She's using that cool material we found in the hat closet,” Priti said.

“Let's put a top coat of glitter polish on our nails to match,” Libby suggested.

“Great idea!” Priti exclaimed. “Or maybe just glitter on the tips . . . like a sparkly French manicure.”

“You're asking for
less
sparkle?” Zoey asked Priti. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

Priti laughed. “Very funny, Zo. But, seriously, wouldn't that look cool?”

Kate, whose style was usually a little more understated—and whose mom was a little more conservative when it came to fashion—wasn't quite as enthusiastic.

“Do we have to add glitter polish? It's going to
be weird enough to have my nails painted red and silver without having them sparkle, too.”

Kate's usual nail color pick was a barely there pink, and even then she usually took it off within a day or two.

“Come on, Kate! It's only for one day. You can take it off tomorrow night if it bothers you,” Priti coaxed.

“Okay.” Kate sighed. “I guess I'll have to take some sparkles for the team,” she said.

“That's our girl,” Zoey said. “Always a team player.”

When their nails were dry, Libby's mom drove them to the Flynn house for a final rehearsal of their karaoke routine.

While Libby was searching for “Be Yourself” on her MP3 player, Zoey told her friends about what Ivy said about her mom's dress.

“Why would she say something like that?” Kate exclaimed. “I don't get it!”

“That's because you're nice,” Zoey replied. “Your life's mission isn't to make someone else miserable.”

“I don't understand why she always seems to pick on you,” Priti said. “What have you ever done to her?”

“Nothing,” Zoey said. “At least nothing I know of. I try to ignore her like everyone says. ‘If you don't react, she'll stop.' But she doesn't. She keeps going. If anything, she's getting worse.”

“Zo, I know you don't want to tell your dad about what's been going on, but I think you should,” Kate said, her brow creased with concern.

“Kate's right,” Libby said. “It's out of control.”

“But don't you think that'll just make things worse?” Zoey asked.

“She's already making you miserable,” Priti pointed out. “How can it get much worse?”

Zoey could think of plenty of ways. But she started to think maybe her friends were right and it
was
time to talk to her dad.

“I guess I'll talk to him when he gets home tonight,” she said. “I just hope he doesn't go overboard—you know, going to see Ms. Austen and making me shut down Sew Zoey. That would be worse thing ever.”

“I can think of something worse,” Priti said quietly.

“What?” Zoey asked, exchanging concerned looks with Kate and Libby, as if to say,
Did you hear that?

Priti's expression changed from downcast to perky in a flash. “Oh, who knows!” Priti said. “I'm just being dramatic. Forget about it. You know, we really need to practice our karaoke routine. Especially since Ivy, Bree, and Shannon are competing, too, and we don't want to lose to them!”

That
would
be the worst,
Zoey thought. She didn't want to lose to anyone, but beating those girls was a matter of pride.

“No way!” Libby said. “Come on, let's do it!”

Priti grabbed Kate's and Zoey's hands, dragging them onto the imaginary stage. They practiced the routine for an hour, stopping when Mrs. Flynn brought them milk and cookies to keep them going. Then she sat on the sofa to be their audience for another run-through.

She clapped loudly when they finished.

“Great job!” she said. “I'd run through the dance
sequence in the bridge one more time—that's the only part that's a little shaky.”

Priti made them run through it five more times, not just once. Zoey was exhausted and starving for dinner by the time Mrs. Mackey came to drive her and Kate home.

“My feet hurt,” Zoey complained as she slid into the backseat of the car. “I still have to make the accessories tonight too.”

“Do you want me to come over and help after I finish my homework?” Kate asked.

“Yes, please!” Zoey yawned. “I'm not sure I'll get them all done otherwise.”

Zoey called for her dad as soon as she walked in the door, hoping to talk to him about the Ivy situation before dinner. She got Marcus instead.

“Dad's not here,” he said. “He had to work late again. He said to say sorry it's been such a crazy week. I'm going to order pizza from Villa Camillo. Do you want any extras? Garlic knots? Salad? Toppings?”

“No.” Zoey sighed. Now that she'd made the decision to tell her dad her problems, she wanted
to talk to him. Now. Tonight. Before anything made her change her mind about it.

“You okay?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah. Just tired,” Zoey said. “And I have to make accessories for tomorrow. Kate's coming over later to help.”

“Okay—you go sew. I'll give you a shout when the food gets here.”

Zoey dragged herself up to her room, tired and miserable. She'd been so looking forward to Spirit Week, but instead of boosting her spirits, it had left her down in the dumps.

She turned on her laptop to check her blog and her e-mail before she started cutting fabric for the accessories.

There were more nasty comments on her blog from usernames she didn't recognize.

Zoey had enough. She went to the administrator page to block the new users. This time she saw that there was a way to delete the blocked user comments from her blog. She pressed delete and breathed a sigh of relief. When she looked back at her blog, the mean comments were gone.

At least all her regular readers were supportive of her, telling her she was right to block the users who weren't being constructive. Still, Zoey wished she didn't have to deal with blocking anyone at all.

Her e-mail, at least, brought her quite a nice surprise—a note from Allie Lovallo, the teen who lived nearby and wrote the Always Allie Accessories blog. She said she was soooooooooo excited about the
Très Chic
feature and asked Zoey if she wanted to meet. Best of all, she suggested meeting at A Stitch in Time because it was her favorite store!

Zoey wrote back:

I'd love to meet you! A Stitch in Time is my favorite store too! I have to check with my dad though, because I don't have my license yet since I'm only in 7th grade. Maybe this weekend?

She pressed send and then went to her worktable and picked up her scissors. Working carefully from the patterns she'd made from her designs the night before, she cut the material for four scarves,
four cuff bracelets, and four small fascinators to go in each of her friends' ponytails.

The fascinators were going to be the most fiddly, so Zoey got to work on those first. She could have Kate hem the scarves when she came over later.

Zoey was so involved with carefully sewing the sequin fabric around the wire structures she'd created that she didn't even hear Marcus calling her to tell her the pizza arrived. When he burst into her room, she was so surprised, she pricked her finger.

“Ouch! You scared me!”

“Didn't you hear me shouting?” Marcus asked.

“No. I was trying to make sure the fabric sat flat instead of puckering.”

“So your ears don't work when you're sewing?” Marcus asked with a grin.

“I was
concentrating
,” Zoey explained, putting down the fascinator she was working on.

“Well, come concentrate on dinner before the pizza gets cold.”

Over dinner, Zoey told Marcus about Allie's e-mail.

“I can drive you if Dad's busy,” he said. “As long as he says it's okay for you to go meet some random girl off the Internet.”

“She's not
random
,” Zoey argued. “She's going to be in
Très Chic
's online feature on teen designers. Just like me.”

“Whatever. You haven't met her before and Dad needs to say it's okay.”

“I know,” Zoey said, taking a bite of pizza.

The doorbell rang. Zoey started to get up, but Marcus said, “Finish your slice. I'll get it.”

He came back in with Kate.

“I'm done,” Zoey said, getting up and putting her plate in the dishwasher. “Can't wait to show you the fascinators!”

After Kate ate a slice of pizza—she was always game for a snack—they went to Zoey's room to look at the hats.