Mia's Baker's Dozen Read online

  Middle school can be hard . . .

  some days you need a cupcake.

  Everything finally seems to be going Mia’s way. She loves all her friends in the Cupcake Club, and things are good at home with her new stepdad, Eddie, and stepbrother, Dan. School is fine too, with one exception—Mia is failing Spanish! Sure, she can speak it at home with her family, but writing it is a different story. And when parent-teacher night comes around, Mia has a new dilemma: Who goes to that? Mom and Eddie? Mom and Dad? All of them? Mia soon comes to realize that sometimes having an extra (or a “baker’s dozen”) of something can be a very good thing!

  Mia’s

  baker’s

  dozen

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  SIMON SPOTLIGHT

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved,

  including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks

  of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Text by Tracey West. Designed by Laura Roode.

  Manufactured in the United States of America 0112 OFF

  First Edition

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  ISBN 978-1-4424-4613-7

  ISBN 978-1-4424-4614-4 (eBook)

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2011942937

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  I’ll Definitely Finish It Tomorrow . . .

  Me llamo Mia, y me gusta hornear pastelitos.

  That means “My name is Mia, and I like to bake cupcakes” in Spanish. A few months ago, I could never have read that sentence or even written it. Maybe that doesn’t sound like a big deal. But for me, it totally was.

  Here’s the thing: I’m good at a bunch of things, like playing soccer and drawing and decorating cupcakes. Nobody ever expected me to be good at them. I just was.

  But everyone expected me to be good at Spanish. My whole family is Latino, and my mom and dad both speak Spanish. I’ve been hearing it since I was a baby, and I can understand a lot of it and speak it pretty well—enough to get my point across. But reading and writing Spanish? That’s a whole other thing. And the fact that I was bad at it got me into a big mess. Well, maybe I got myself into a big mess. But Spanish definitely didn’t help.

  The whole situation kind of blew up this winter. You see, when I started middle school in the fall, they placed me in Advanced Spanish with Señora Delgado because my parents told the school that I was a Spanish speaker. At first I did okay, but after a few weeks it was pretty clear to me that I was in over my head. I could speak it but not write it. The homework kept getting harder and harder, and my test grades were slipping.

  One night in February, I was trying really hard to do my Spanish homework. Señora asked us to write an essay about something we planned to do this month. I decided to write about going to see my dad, who lives in Manhattan. I visit him every other weekend, and we always go out to eat sushi.

  It sounds simple, but I was having a hard time writing it. I always get mixed up with the verbs, and that was the whole point of the essay—to use future indicative verbs. (Yeah, I’m not sure what those are either.) Anyway, I was trying to write “We will eat sushi,” and I couldn’t get the verb right.

  “Comemos? Or is it comeramos?” I wondered aloud with a frown while tapping my pencil on my desk. My head was starting to really hurt, and it wasn’t just because of the homework.

  “Dan, TURN IT DOWN!” I yelled at the wall in front of me. On the other side of the wall, Dan, my stepbrother, was blasting music like he always does. He listens to metal or something, and it sounds like a werewolf screaming in a thunderstorm. He couldn’t hear me, so I started banging on the walls.

  The music got a little bit softer, and Dan yelled, “Chill, Mia!”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

  I looked back down at my paper, which was only half finished. Where was I again? Oh, right. Sushi. At least that word is the same in any language.

  My brain couldn’t take any more. I picked up my smartphone and messaged three of my friends at once.

  Anyone NOT want to do homework right now? I asked.

  Alexis replied first. She’s the fastest texter in the Cupcake Club.

  Mine is already done!

  Of course, I should have known. Alexis is one of those people who actually likes doing homework.

  It’s better than babysitting my little brother! came the next reply.

  That’s my friend Emma. I actually think her little brother, Jake, is kind of cute, but I also know that he can be annoying.

  The last reply came from my friend Katie.

  Let’s go on a homework strike!

  I laughed. Katie is really funny, and she also feels the same way I do about a lot of things (like homework). That’s probably why she’s my best friend here in Maple Grove.

  Where are we meeting tomorrow? I asked.

  I think I mentioned the Cupcake Club already. That’s a business I started with Alexis, Emma, and Katie. We bake cupcakes for parties and other events, and we meet at least once a week.

  We can do it at my house, Emma replied.

  Works for me! Alexis texted back at light speed.

  Alexis always likes going to Emma’s house, and it’s not just because she and Emma are best friends. She used to have a crush on Emma’s brother Matt. He’s pretty cute, but Emma’s brother Sam is even cuter.

  Alexis texted again.

  Everyone come with ideas for the Valentine’s cupcakes.

  Ugh! I hate that holiday! Emma complained.

  But there’s candy! Katie wrote.

  And everything’s pink, I reminded Emma since pink is her favorite color.

  K, you have a point. But still. We have to watch all the couples in school make a big deal out of it, Emma replied.

  And watch all the boys go gaga for Sydney, Alexis chimed in.

  Sydney is the president of the Popular Girls Club, and Alexis is right—lots of boys like her.

  Any boys who like Sydney have cupcakes for brains, Katie wrote.

  I laughed.

  Got to go! Twelve more math problems left! Emma wrote.

  I have 2 go study, Alexis added.

  I thought you were done? Katie wrote.

  This is just for fun , Alexis wrote back.

  If u want to have fun u can do my homework, Katie typed.

  Or mine, I added.

  LOL! CU tom, Alexis typed.

  I said good night to my friends and put down my phone. I stared at my paper for a few seconds and then I picked up my sketchbook.

  My Spanish class isn’t until after lunch, so I figured I could finish the essay then. I couldn’t concentrate now anyway. Besides, I was dying to finish a sketch I had started earlier.

/>   My mom’s a fashion stylist, and she’s always taking the train to New York to meet with designers and boutique owners. I guess I take after her because I am totally obsessed with fashion and I love designing my own clothes. Once in a while, Mom takes me to meetings with her and I get to see all the latest fashions before other people do.

  Lately I’ve been trying to design a winter coat that keeps you warm but isn’t all puffy. I hate puffy coats. I thought maybe the coat could be lined with a fabric that kept you warm and looked streamlined. Maybe cashmere? But that would be really expensive. Flannel might work; and it would be so cozy, like being wrapped up in your bed’s flannel sheets!

  I opened up my sketchbook, a new one that my dad gave me. It’s got this soft leather cover and really good paper inside that makes my drawings look even better. I picked up a purple pencil and started to finish my sketch of a knee-length wraparound style coat.

  There was a knock on my door, and then Mom stepped in.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said. She nodded to the sketchbook. “Done with your homework?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  Mom smiled and walked over to look at my sketch. “Very nice, mija,” she said. “I like the shape of those sleeves. And purple is a very nice color for a winter coat. Most winter coats are black or brown or tan. They’re so boring.”

  “Thanks!” I replied, and she kissed me on the head and left the room. I started to feel a little guilty about lying about my homework, but I pushed the feeling aside. I was definitely going to finish it tomorrow, so no problem, right?

  Actually, it was a problem . . . a big one.

  CHAPTER 2

  Señora Is Not Happy

  I know how to say all the colors,” Katie said helpfully. “Red is rojo. Blue is azul. Yellow is amarillo. I’m not so good at pronouncing that one because I can’t do that thing with the two l’s.”

  It was lunchtime, and I was frantically trying to finish my essay while eating the chicken salad sandwich that Eddie, my stepdad, had made for me.

  “Thanks, Katie,” I said. “But I don’t think the colors will help. I need future indicative verbs.”

  Katie frowned. “That sounds painful. But maybe you could, you know, pad it. Like say the sushi restaurant has red chairs and a blue rug and yellow walls.”

  I laughed. “Can you imagine if a restaurant was really decorated like that?”

  “Rainbow sushi!” Katie exclaimed. “I think it would catch on.”

  I sighed. “Anyway, I need verbs.”

  Alexis and Emma walked up to the table carrying trays of spaghetti and salad. Alexis nodded at my notebook.

  “Cupcake ideas?” she asked.

  “I wish,” I replied. “It’s my Spanish homework.”

  Alexis’s green eyes widened in horror. “You mean you didn’t finish it?” Most people have nightmares about monsters, but Alexis wakes up screaming if she dreams she hasn’t done her homework.

  “It’s hard!” I complained. “I’m supposed to be writing about when I go see my dad. Now I’m trying to say, ‘We will visit my grandmother.’”

  Alexis frowned. “We haven’t done a lot of future tense in our French class yet. Spanish must be a lot harder than French.”

  I shook my head. “It’s because I’m in Advanced Spanish,” I said with a moan. “That’s why we’re already on this.”

  “But you speak Spanish, Mia,” Alexis said. “I’ve heard you!”

  “Yes,” I replied. “But I’ve never taken a Spanish class. I took French in my old school. And when we moved here, my mom thought I should get some formal training in Spanish. She told the guidance counselor that I spoke Spanish at home, and they put me in the advanced class. Without even asking me!”

  “So it’s not easier because you already speak it?” Katie asked.

  “No way,” I said. “It’s like, when I hear people talking in Spanish, I can understand most of it. And if someone asks me a question, like my abuela, I can answer her. But my main language growing up was English.”

  I took a sip of my water. “And think about it,” I said. “You learned how to speak English before you could learn how to properly write it, right? You can say to a baby, ‘Show me your nose,’ and the baby will point to her nose. But she isn’t able to write, ‘My nose is on my face.’”

  Katie nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I can see why it’s more difficult to learn how to write a language than to speak it.”

  I picked up my sandwich, and Katie eyed it. “Did Eddie make you chicken salad again?”

  “Uh-huh,” I answered, taking a bite.

  “He’s a really good cook, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “His chicken salad’s pretty good,” I admitted.

  “But believe me, you do not want to eat his Mystery Meat Loaf.”

  Katie looked thoughtful. “Maybe he can be my top chef when I open up Katie’s Rainbow Restaurant,” she said.

  “Ooh, that’s a great idea,” Emma said. “You could divide the menu into seven colors, and people could pick one food from each color.”

  “That’s way too much food,” Alexis objected.

  “Well, you wouldn’t have to order all seven,” Katie pointed out. “You could order three dishes of your favorite color, if you want.”

  Did I tell you that my Maple Grove friends are a little bit crazy? They always make me laugh. Maybe “creative” is a better word than “crazy” to describe them. Everybody always has lots of ideas. A rainbow restaurant! Only one of my friends would dream up something like that.

  When I look at our lunch table, I sometimes think we are like a rainbow of hair colors. Emma’s hair is pale blond, the color most women in Manhattan pay a fortune to try to get. Alexis has gorgeous, curly red hair. Katie’s hair is light brown and wavy, and mine is black and really straight.

  “We could all be waitresses,” I suggested. “We could each wear a different color uniform.”

  “I’ll be violet!” Katie cried. She loves purple.

  Emma frowned. “There’s no pink in a rainbow.”

  “You could be red,” Alexis suggested.

  “Red is so not pink,” Emma protested.

  “I’ll be red,” I said. Then I took out my sketchbook and started drawing our uniforms.

  Before I knew it, the bell rang. Lunch was over, my assignment wasn’t done—and I had to go to Spanish class.

  “Wish me luck,” I said.

  “Everybody forgets their homework at least once,” Katie said, trying to cheer me up. “It’ll be okay.”

  The problem was, I hadn’t forgotten to do it—I just couldn’t do it. There’s a big difference. If you forget to do your homework, it’s a one-time thing. But if you don’t know how to do it, it’s a huge problem. And I didn’t expect things to get easier.

  I gathered my books together and headed to Señora Delgado’s class. The only good thing about that class is that I sit next to Callie, who’s pretty nice. She used to be Katie’s best friend, but that’s kind of a long story. And she hangs out with Sydney and is in the Popular Girls Club. And Sydney doesn’t really like me, but that’s another long story.

  Anyway, I like Callie, and it’s nice sitting next to her in class. Especially when things get confusing. She’s really helpful.

  Callie gave me a smile when I slid into the seat next to her.

  “Nice shirt,” she said, admiring my boxy blue knit shirt. I had accessorized it with a necklace one of my mom’s designer friends had given me—a silver chain with a chunky silver circle pendant.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I like your scarf.” Callie was wearing one of those loopy big infinity scarves in red and black that looked nice with her black sweater.

  “Thanks,” she said back.

  Callie is into fashion too. That’s one of the reasons we get along. But our little mutual admiration session was the highlight of my Spanish class.

  “Hola, clase,” Señora Delgado said when she walked into the room. That means “Hello, class.�
�� In advanced class we’re supposed to speak Spanish all the time, which is pretty easy for me. (But since you might not speak Spanish, I’ll do all the dialogue in this class in English.)

  Señora began by asking us each to say a few sentences about what we did the day before. That’s so we could practice our past tense. I was able to do that okay.

  “I did my homework, talked to my friends, and drew in my sketchbook,” I told her, and Señora smiled.

  “Perfect pronunciation and accent as usual, Mia,” she said. “Good job.”

  But Señora wasn’t smiling at me after she asked us to hand in our assignments. I handed it in and held my breath. Señora went through the pile of papers and then frowned.

  “Mia, this is only half finished,” she said.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  Señora shook her head. “You are getting lazy these days, Mia. This is not acceptable. See me after class. I’m giving you an extra worksheet for homework tonight.”

  “Yes, Señora,” I said.

  Callie gave me a sympathetic look, and I slunk down in my seat. This was just what I needed. More homework that I didn’t understand.

  I know what you’re probably thinking right now. Why didn’t I just tell my parents the truth? That I shouldn’t be in Advanced Spanish.

  Well, I just felt like I couldn’t. What would they think? The truth was that their only child, Mia Vélaz-Cruz, the daughter of proud Spanish-speaking parents, couldn’t read or write the language. I didn’t think they could handle the truth. It would have to be my secret. Hopefully they would never find out.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sweet and Spicy

  At least I didn’t have to face Mom right after school because we had an official Cupcake Club meeting. Emma lives close to the school, on the same street as Alexis, so the four of us walked to her house. It was cold out, and there was still some snow on the lawns from a storm the week before. My red winter jacket kept me nice and warm, though, and for once I didn’t mind its general puffiness.

  When we got inside, Mrs. Taylor was sitting at the dining room table with Emma’s little brother, Jake. He was taking the books out of his backpack.