The Brightest Stars of Summer (3 page)

“I
can't believe Aunt Sunny's getting married to Tony!” Marigold said, leading the way along the shady path through the sycamore and oak trees.

After the surprise phone call from Aunt Sunny, the Silver family had headed to Griffith Park for some fresh air and a chance to digest their breakfast and the big news that Aunt Sunny was getting married in less than a month. They were on the wide dirt trail that snaked up the steep hill through the chaparral to the observatory. Outside the observatory the views stretched out over the sprawling city in every direction, from the San Gabriel Mountains in the east to the ocean in the west. Inside the observatory were all kinds of cool exhibits and a planetarium.

But to Marigold the whole point of coming to Griffith Park was to be outdoors. Her favorite season here was
the spring, after the rain, when the air was cool and the butterflies and bees fluttered among wildflowers. Right now, in the middle of June, it was almost too hot for a hike, but for the first time since yesterday, Marigold wasn't totally and completely bummed out to the point of not even bothering to accessorize.

“I've never been to a wedding,” Zinnie said. She'd found a long stick, which she'd declared her walking stick, and she tapped the ground with it as she walked behind Marigold.

“Why are they getting married so soon?” Marigold asked.

“Because love is the eternal flame that draws the heart like a moth!” Zinnie said, quoting the
Night Sprites
movie. Marigold glanced over her shoulder to give Zinnie a look of warning. She was not in the mood for
Night Sprites
quotes.

“Sorry,” Zinnie said, wincing. “I couldn't help it. It's just such a good line!”

“Tony's son, Paul, is in the army,” Mom said, defusing the tension. “And he's heading back to Syria for a whole year or more. So when Tony proposed last night, he and Aunt Sunny decided to get married as soon as possible. Tony couldn't imagine a wedding without Paul. And of course Aunt Sunny can't imagine a wedding without you three girls as part of the ceremony, which is why we are going to go to Pruet earlier than we planned.”

“I can't wait to be a flower girl,” Lily said. She was holding Dad's hand and swinging his arm. “I'll give everyone roses as I walk down the aisle. Will I get to carry a basket?”

“I'm sure Aunt Sunny won't object if that's what you want,” Dad said as a pair of joggers running downhill split apart to pass them.

“And it makes total sense that Zinnie and I will be bridesmaids, since we fixed them up,” Marigold said, wiping some sweat from her brow.

Zinnie had been the one to talk Aunt Sunny into the idea of seeking love again since her husband, Ham, had died many years ago. And all three of them had opened Aunt Sunny's eyes to the fact that Tony had a crush on her. But Marigold thought that she probably deserved the most credit for the romance. Normally, Aunt Sunny didn't wear makeup or anything fancier than shorts and T-shirts, but on the night of the town dance, Marigold had found a closet full of vintage outfits and selected the perfect ensemble for Aunt Sunny, complete with dangly earrings and silver shoes. They were flats, but still. Aunt Sunny had looked beautiful that night and Marigold was certain that was when they had fallen in love.

“We could open a matchmaking business!” Zinnie said as they entered a welcome stretch of shade.

“You can call it the Kissing Store,” Lily said, kicking up dust as she ran in front of Marigold and batting her
eyelashes like a love-struck cartoon character. “Everything inside will be pink and purple hearts. Like, even the couches and chairs. And we'll have puppies there, too. To help people fall in love!”

“Good idea, Lily,” Marigold said. “Mom, do you think Aunt Sunny will let me design my own bridesmaid dre—” But she couldn't finish her sentence, because ahead, coming down the very path that the Silvers were hiking up, was a group of girls Marigold recognized even from a distance.

The Cuties.

They were easy to identify by their matching bobbed haircuts, coordinated outfits, and synchronized laughs. They had probably just been to see the new planetarium show. As they came closer, Marigold realized there was a new member of their clique. She had a jet-black bob and was a wearing a T-shirt Marigold would've recognized anywhere because she had a matching one.
Pilar.

Marigold had texted her last night and asked her to hang out. Pilar had told her that she had to stay home to pack and get ready for her trip to Mexico, where she was going to get to see her grandmother. But that had been a lie! She'd gone hiking with the Cuties! The worst part was, she'd cut her hair without even checking with Marigold!

She's one of them now,
Marigold thought. Her pulse quickened and her mouth went as dry as the
drought-stricken dirt beneath her feet. The momentary forgetfulness of being cut from the movie came to a screeching halt. She felt the pain of not being in
Night Sprites
, but also the betrayal of Pilar, and on top of that the prickly embarrassment of having boasted about her movie role. Now her whole class would think that she was not only a bragger, but also a liar and a fake. And eighth grade, she'd heard, was even more grueling than seventh. How was she going to handle it without Pilar by her side? In the heat of the midday sun, Marigold thought she might collapse.

“Marigold, are you okay?” Dad asked. “You look pale.”

“I think I see a deer!” Marigold said in a hoarse whisper, the idea coming to her in a moment of panicked clarity. She pointed into a wooded area. “Shhh, be quiet and come look! Hurry, quick! Oh yes, way over there. There's a whole family of them!”

“Cool,” Zinnie said as they all followed Marigold off the path in search of the fictional wildlife. “But I don't see anything . . .”

“Shhh! We have to be silent because we don't want to scare them,” Marigold said.

A cold sweat dampened her face as she heard the Cuties approaching. She knew she was going to have to see them at some point. The movie was coming out on July first, which was so soon, and the shame and disappointment that were now private would soon
become public.
I'm safe for the moment,
she thought as they walked by. She was hiding behind a sycamore tree, but she couldn't hide forever. She gripped the tree and held her breath. The sound of Pilar's laughter echoing though the canyon was like a beesting right on her heart.

“S
orry, but you can't go to Pruet early,” Mom said as she filled the teakettle and placed it on the stove. “You have camp.”

“Please, Mom,” Marigold said. “I really think that I could be a big help to Aunt Sunny. Just hear me out.”

Marigold glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was 1:07 a.m., way past her bedtime—and her mom's too. But Marigold hadn't been able to sleep. She wanted to get out of Los Angeles—as far away as possible as soon as possible.

Sometime after midnight, after pacing around her room at least a hundred times, she thought of the perfect escape: Aunt Sunny's. Not only was it far away from all her problems, but Aunt Sunny probably needed help getting ready for her wedding. Marigold
had woken Mom up to talk through the idea. At first Mom just told her to go back to bed, but Marigold was as distraught and determined as she'd ever been. She begged Mom to listen to her, until finally Mom agreed and they headed to the kitchen for a middle-of-the-night mother-daughter meeting.

“I think you'll really regret not going to camp,” Mom said now, turning on the stove to heat the teakettle. She took two mugs from the cabinet and put them on the counter. “Shakespeare in a cool outdoor theater with a bunch of other great kids? Sounds awesome to me.”

“But I don't want to act anymore,” Marigold said.

“That's how you feel right now, and it's understandable. You've had some setbacks.” Mom placed chamomile tea bags in the mugs. “But what would Ronald say? What would Jill tell you to do?”

“Ronald always says that show business is a hard road, and if there's anything else you can do that makes you happy, you should do it. Even you and Dad have said that. And Jill would probably tell me to move to Costa Rica!”

“Okay.” Mom acknowledged this point with a smile. “But you've been looking forward to this for months.”

“And then there's the deposit to think about. It was expensive, and I doubt we'll be able to get it back at this point.”

“I'll pay you back with babysitting,” Marigold said.

“That's a lot of babysitting,” Mom said, leaning against the counter. “Is this really just about acting?”

“Not exactly,” Marigold said. “There's this clique at school. The Cuties.”

“Ah,” Mom said. The water in the kettle rumbled. “Tell me more.”

“They dress alike and have inside jokes that they call ‘location jokes' and they're all on the swim team together and they talk about boys a lot.”

“Boys?” Mom asked as the teakettle whistled. “Do they have boyfriends?”

“I think so,” Marigold said.

“What do you think they mean by boyfriends?” Mom asked. She poured the hot water over the tea bags.

“I'm not really sure,” Marigold said, thinking about it.

“What does having a boyfriend mean to you?” Mom asked. She carried the steaming mugs to the table and sat next to Marigold.

“I guess it means hanging out with a boy who you really like who also likes you back. And you dance together at the dances and go to the movies together and stuff.” Marigold grabbed the bear-shaped container of honey and squeezed some into her tea.

“Is that what it means to these girls?” Mom asked, blowing on her mug of tea.

“I wouldn't know. It's not like they invite me
anywhere. They sit at a lunch table with only eight seats, so no one else can sit with them.”

“These girls sound mean, honey,” Mom said,. “Why do you care what they think?”

“They're the cool kids.” Marigold sipped her tea.

“I'm going to let you in on the secret to being cool,” Mom said. “Just be yourself.” Mom beamed as if this would solve all of Marigold's problems.

“Mom,” Marigold said, “you sound like a cheesy TV show.”

“Fine, don't believe me,” Mom said. “But I'm right.”

“No one wants to be unpopular.”

“All you really need is one good friend. And you have Pilar.”

“Not anymore,” Marigold said, feeling her lower lip start to tremble.

“What?” Mom's sympathetic look brought tears to Marigold's eyes. Marigold told Mom about how Pilar had been with the Cuties yesterday—there hadn't actually been any deer.

“Oh, sweetheart, you and Pilar can work this out,” Mom said, touching Marigold's cheek. Her hand was warm from holding her mug. “You've been friends for so long. Why don't I take you two to the Farmers Market tomorrow for some frozen yogurt?”

“She's going to Mexico to see her
abuela
really soon. I think the day after tomorrow.”

“You need to talk to her before she leaves. But this
is another reason you should go to camp. You'll make tons of new friends there.”

“Not if I'm totally miserable.” Marigold sighed. “Remember when you said that I could quit acting if it stopped being fun? Well, it's not fun anymore.”

“I just want to make sure that dropping out of camp is about acting and not about the girls in your class.” Mom looked deep into Marigold's eyes.

“It's both,” Marigold said, wiping her teary face with the backs of her hands. “I thought that if I was in the movie, the Cuties would think I was cool and they'd want to be friends with me, even if I didn't want to be friends back. And because I'm not on
Seasons
anymore and I'm not in the movie, I can't stop worrying that I'm not good enough. What if I'm not cool enough or good enough?”

“Of course you're cool enough and good enough. You know what?” Mom said as she smoothed Marigold's hair behind her ear. “I think you're right. I think a couple weeks in Pruet is exactly what you need.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Marigold said, throwing her arms around her mother's neck and hugging her. “Thank you so much.”