Katie's New Recipe Page 4

  Emma shuddered. “It was so sticky and disgusting! And everyone was laughing at me. It was awful.”

  “But you were just an uncoordinated third grader back then,” I said. “I bet you’d do just fine if you did it today.”

  “Can I switch with Emma? I’d rather do the egg race than wear a sweatshirt,” Mia said.

  I shook my head. I was enjoying this. “No way. It has to be something that counts. Only then will you know how I truly feel inside about this cupcake issue.”

  Mia turned to Alexis. “What about you?”

  “I still can’t think of anything,” Alexis replied.

  “I know!” I cried out. “Alexis, you hate spicy food, right? So you have to eat something spicy.”

  Alexis made a face. “Seriously? You want me to risk a painful mouth burn for you?”

  “You cannot burn your mouth eating spicy food,” I said.

  “Oh yes, you can,” Alexis insisted. “The oils in those spicy peppers can really mess you up.”

  “How about medium spicy, then?” Mia suggested. “One step above mild.”

  Alexis looked like she was going to protest, but Emma nudged her.

  “All right,” Alexis said with a sigh. “I’ll do it. This means we can do the peanut-butter-and-guava-jelly cupcakes, right?”

  “Right,” I said, and suddenly the idea didn’t seem too scary anymore. I guess change isn’t so bad as long as your friends have to change along with you.

  CHAPTER 8

  Mia’s Fashion Splash

  The next morning Mia went to stay with her dad in Manhattan, but I made sure she didn’t forget her end of our deal.

  Don’t forget 2 wear ur sweatshirt 2morrow, I texted her on Sunday.

  Noooooooooo! Mia replied. But I knew she would do it. Mia is the kind of friend who keeps her promises.

  So when I got on the bus to school on Monday morning, I wasn’t disappointed. Mia was sitting in her usual seat in the sixth row, wearing a blue “I ♥ NY” sweatshirt. She looked miserable.

  “Mia, you did it!” I said happily, sliding into the seat next to her.

  Mia looked down at herself, sighing. “I don’t even own a sweatshirt, so my dad bought this for me at the train station before I came home. I hope you don’t mind, but it looked so awful that I had to change it a little bit.”

  “Really? I didn’t even notice,” I said.

  “Well, the long sleeves were really too hot for spring, so I cut them off and then made pockets out of them. I also fixed the neckline a little bit,” she explained.

  Then I saw what she had done. The short sleeves were pushed up and attached with silver buttons. The neckline was more of a V shape, and the pockets in front looked kind of cute. Mia had layered the shirt over a thin white one with long sleeves. She had rolled the bottom of her jeans above her white sneakers, and she had pulled her hair back into a sporty ponytail.

  “It looks really nice,” I said. “You could make anything look good, Mia.”

  Mia smiled a little. “Thanks. But I still cannot believe that I am going to school in a sweatshirt!”

  Poor Mia. I knew this was hard for her. That just goes to show you what an awesome friend she is!

  Alexis and Emma were waiting for us on the front steps when the bus pulled up.

  “Wow, Mia, you did it!” Emma said. “I think you look great.”

  Mia looked around. “Everyone is staring at me; I know it!”

  “If they are, it’s just because you look good,” I said.

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “Mia, you have it so easy! At least you don’t have to risk injuring yourself.”

  “By eating delicious food? You don’t know how lucky you are,” Mia shot back. “At least you don’t have to do your new thing in front of the whole school!”

  We went inside, and Emma and I went to our homeroom. I saw Mia again after that, during math class with Mr. Kazinski, and she seemed a little better. She was even happier during third-period gym class.

  “Finally, I’m out of that sweatshirt!” she said, looking down at her T-shirt and shorts. “I’m free!”

  Ms. Chen, our gym teacher, blew her whistle. “Line up, everybody! Let’s get moving!”

  I once got the nerve to ask Ms. Chen if she had ever been in the military, because she runs the class like an army commander. (I left that second part out.) She claimed she hadn’t, so I guess she was just born that way. Sometimes it can make gym class very stressful, depending on what we’re doing.

  After we did some jumping jacks and squat thrusts. Ms. Chen made us count off (“One! Two! One! Two!”) and divide into two teams. I like it when she does that, because then nobody has to get picked last (usually, it’s me).

  Ms. Chen set up some orange cones. “We’re going to do relay races today. I want each team to line up behind a cone.”

  I was kind of relieved to hear that we were doing relay races. I stink at a lot of sports, but I’m a pretty good runner. I had been a number two, so I lined up with my other teammates. I’m lucky that all my good friends are in my gym class, so I’m usually never alone on a team. This time, I was on a team with Alexis and George.

  Everybody raced to line up behind the cone, and I ended up last. I started to panic a little. In a relay race, winning or losing often depends on the very last runner.

  “Hey!” I called to George, who was in the middle of the line. “Shouldn’t somebody else be last?”

  George smiled at me. “Don’t worry, Katie. You can do it!”

  I anxiously looked over at the other line and was surprised to see Callie in last place. She and I used to be best friends since we were babies. But now she’s head of the BFC, and we don’t talk much anymore. Callie plays sports, so she’s pretty fast. I started to get nervous all over again.

  “Ready, set, go!” Ms. Chen yelled.

  The first runner from each team took off across the gym, circled the cone at the far end, and then ran back, tagging the next runner. Things were moving pretty quickly, and I knew my turn was coming up soon.

  The teams were pretty much even. George ran and then stopped by me on his way to the back of the line.

  “Just stay focused,” he advised. “Don’t look at the other person running.”

  I nodded. “Okay, coach.”

  Then it was Alexis’s turn, and my heart was pounding. She rounded the cone and then came back and tagged me just as Maggie, another member of the BFC, tagged Callie.

  Don’t look at her, I reminded myself, and I took off as fast as I could. I stayed focused, and I could feel my legs moving faster and faster. All that running I’ve been doing with Mom is paying off, I thought, because I’m a better runner than I was last year.

  I ran back to the cone and slapped the hand of the first person on line. Suddenly, my team started cheering.

  It was like I was in a daze or something. I looked at the other team and saw Callie slap her teammate’s hand just seconds after I had finished.

  “We won! We won!” Alexis cried, hugging me.

  I couldn’t believe it! I’m not using to winning at stuff, especially in gym. George came up and high-fived me.

  “I told you you’d be great!” he said. “I hope you’re on my team on Spirit Day!”

  I know I blushed a little, and Alexis nudged me.

  “He soooo likes you,” she whispered. Alexis might be the most serious of all my friends, but she’s also the most boy-crazy, too.

  “I don’t care if he does or not,” I said. “I’m just glad he’s my friend.” Which was kind of a lie. Inside, it feels kind of good to think that a boy likes me, especially a nice one like George. But I’m not good at talking about it, not even with Mia or Alexis.

  After gym we have lunch, which is okay except sometimes it’s gross to eat when you’re hot and sweaty. But all that running had made me hungry, and I was happy to eat the P-B-and-J sandwich and carrot sticks that Mom had packed for me.

  Mia was next to me, eating some yogurt, when she suddenly put
down her spoon.

  “Oh no,” she said. “The BFC is talking about me!”

  We all looked over at the BFC’s table. The members of the Best Friends Club are Callie, Maggie, Bella, and Olivia, the new girl who I told you about who made friends with Mia. They kept looking over at our table and then looking at one another and whispering.

  “Maybe they are, but you never cared about that before,” I said.

  “Well, I never wore a sweatshirt before,” Mia said. “They’re probably talking about what a dork I look like.”

  Alexis scowled. “Let them come over here and say something to your face.”

  “Honestly, I think you look nice,” Emma said. “Kind of sporty chic, like the way we dressed for my brothers’ party.”

  “Yeah, the one where Olivia ended up covered in cupcakes,” I said, and we laughed, remembering. Even Mia was smiling.

  “Yeah, I guess that is a little more embarrassing than wearing a sweatshirt,” Mia admitted. “But I’ll still be glad when this day is over.”

  By the end of the day, Mia didn’t even mention the sweatshirt anymore, so I guess she made peace with the whole thing. She didn’t say a word about it on the bus. When I got home, I did my homework until Mom came back from work.

  “Did you have a good day today, Katie?” she asked me.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “My team in gym won the relay race, and I was the last runner, so that was pretty cool.”

  “Wow, that’s great!” Mom said. She reached into the refrigerator and took out a package of ground beef. “I’m going to make some meat loaf for dinner, okay?”

  Mom’s meat loaf is okay, but it’s not my favorite. “Couldn’t we make tacos instead?” I asked.

  Mom frowned. “We could, but I don’t have any taco shells in the cupboard, and I think we’re out of lettuce, too.”

  “Pretty please?” I asked in my sweetest voice. (Yes, I was still taking advantage of Mom’s good mood. But wouldn’t you if tacos were at stake?)

  “Okay,” Mom said with a smile. She grabbed her car keys from the counter. “Back in a flash!”

  I started to feel a little guilty as she left, so I made up for it by emptying the dishwasher and setting the table without being asked. I’m not all bad! After dinner Mom and I went for a run together, and there was no sign of the guy in the blue sweatsuit. I was starting to hope that maybe the whole thing was over. But then again, she was still wearing lip gloss, so I wasn’t sure.

  The next morning Mia was in a much better mood when I got on the bus. She had gotten pretty dolled up in a dress with a pink and purple flower pattern, and a black belt around her waist. She had her hair down, and long, dangly silver earrings in her ears.

  “Wow, you look nice,” I said.

  “I wanted to burn the sweatshirt the minute I got home from school yesterday, but Eddie said we have to wait until we set up the fire pit this summer,” Mia said. “I am so happy to be back to normal.”

  After we got off the bus, we were heading to the front steps to meet up with Alexis and Emma when I noticed the BFC walking down the street together. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  I poked Mia. “You’d better look at this.”

  Mia turned and her eyes got wide. Every member of the BFC was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, just like Mia had the day before! They had changed their sweatshirts too, cutting off the sleeves and adding the pockets and stuff. They all had their hair pulled back into ponytails.

  “You know what?” Mia said. “They actually look pretty cute.”

  “We tried to tell you,” I said.

  The BFC walked by us. Callie looked in our direction and nodded.

  “Hi, Katie. Hi, Mia.”

  “Hi, Callie,” I said. “Like your outfit.”

  Callie smiled, and the girls kept moving. I turned to Mia, shaking my head and laughing.

  “I guess you are a real trendsetter,” I told her.

  Mia smiled. “Hmm. Maybe I won’t burn that sweatshirt after all. It’s an original design!”

  CHAPTER 9

  Things Suddenly Get Weird

  We got together at my house after school on Wednesday for a special Cupcake Club meeting. Mom was in her home office, doing some stuff on her computer, and the Cupcake Club was in the kitchen, working on a display idea for the PTA dinner.

  Mia had out her sketchbook. “Okay, so maybe we should first figure out how to decorate the cupcakes. The icing is pale brown, which is not exactly exciting.”

  “Well, we’re doing a twist on classic pairs. Maybe we could do two hands shaking or something?” I suggested.

  Mia frowned. “Hands are hard to do, especially if we’re cutting them out of fondant.” Fondant is a sort of dough you make out of sugar, and you can use it to make decorations for your cupcakes and cakes. We use it sometimes, but it’s not my favorite way to decorate our cupcakes. Mia and Emma are the best at working with it.

  “We could write ’PTA’ on them, or ’PSMS’ for ’Park Street Middle School,’ ” Alexis said.

  Mia started sketching. “Not bad. But not supercreative, either.”

  Emma spoke up. “I like it when the decorations are done with food in a pretty way, you know? Like an edible flower.”

  Mia nodded. “That could be nice.”

  “Ooh, I know!” I said. “We could pick something that goes with the peanut butter and guava flavors. Like maybe some candied ginger.”

  “Isn’t that spicy?” Alexis asked worriedly.

  “A little, but when it’s candied, it’s mostly sweet,” I said. I took out my phone and then started to look for a picture to show everyone. “See? It’s pretty, like a little jewel or something.”

  Everyone gathered around my phone. “That’s really nice,” Mia said. “Understated, but classy.”

  Alexis nodded. “I could see that appealing to the PTA parents. And it’s unusual.”

  “I’ll pick some up the next time I go back to that gourmet shop in town,” Emma volunteered. “It’s fun in there.”

  “Can I go with you?” I asked. “I haven’t been yet.”

  “Sure,” Emma replied.

  Just then I heard a ping on my phone. It was an e-mail. I don’t get a lot of those; mostly texts from my friends. Sometimes Grandma Carole sends me photos by e-mail, so I opened up the e-mail screen.

  “It’s from someone named Marc Donald,” I said, reading the name in my in-box. “But I don’t know any Marc Donald.”

  “Ooh! Maybe it’s from a secret admirer,” Alexis teased.

  I blushed. “I don’t have one. It’s probably just spam.”

  “Or maybe it’s George Martinez, using a fake name,” Emma said.

  “Well, it’s definitely from a boy,” Mia chimed in. “Open it!”

  I was curious, and moved to push the button to read new messages.

  “No, wait, don’t!” Alexis cried out. “Remember all that stuff we learned about online safety? Your mom will kill you. Besides, it’s not George, see? The whole address is marcdonald@thebrowns.com.”

  “The Browns?” Mia asked. “That’s your last name. Maybe it’s a cousin or something.”

  I thought about it, but I don’t have any cousins or uncles named Marc. “I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Maybe it’s someone who did one of those family tree things online, and they tracked you down!” Emma said excitedly.

  “One way to found out,” I said. “MOM!”

  Mom came into the kitchen, frowning. “We do not yell in this house, Katie. This is not a football stadium.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just, I got an e-mail from a boy I don’t know, and I didn’t want to open it.”

  Mom smiled. “Well, that was smart. Now I know I can trust you with your e-mail.” She raised her eyebrows. “So, a boy, huh?”

  I handed her my phone, and her smile immediately faded. She turned pale. “Oh,” she said. “Maybe we can open this later, Katie.”

  “Why later?” I asked, more c
urious than ever. “Is it a long-lost relative or something?”

  “Sort of,” Mom answered. “Let’s read it later.”

  “Come on, please!” I begged. The suspense was too much. “I really want to know.”

  Mom nervously looked around the room. “Why don’t you come into my office?”

  I shot a questioning look at my friends, but followed Mom out of the kitchen. I was starting to feel a little nervous. What was the big deal about the e-mail?

  As soon as we got into her office, I asked, “Mom, do you know who Marc Donald is?”

  Mom took a deep breath. “Katie, Marc Donald is your dad.”

  I was shocked. That didn’t make sense at all. “But Dad’s name is Donald, and the e-mail was from Marc Donald.”

  “His full name is Marc Donald Brown. He’s always gone by Donald, though,” Mom replied. She and I stared at each other for a little bit. Obviously, the situation was weird for both of us.

  “So, what does he want?” I finally asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Mom confessed. “Why don’t you have fun with your friends? I’ll read the e-mail, and we’ll talk about it after they leave, okay?”

  This was the first time in weeks I’d seen Mom looking unhappy. I realized I wasn’t so curious to find out what was in the e-mail anymore. I didn’t feel excited—just weird.

  I went back into the kitchen, and my friends pounced on me.

  “Who was it? A boy?” Mia asked.

  “No,” I said, and then I just blurted it out. “It’s my dad.”

  Everyone got really quiet. I barely ever talk about my dad. Mia knows more than Emma and Alexis do, and even she doesn’t know that much.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Alexis asked.

  “My mom says I was about two,” I explained. “He left, and he moved across the country and then started this whole other family. He used to send me a Christmas card every year, but I stopped getting them recently.”

  Emma’s eyes got wide. “Do you mean you have brothers and sisters who you’ve never met?” She looked really upset, and I could tell she was thinking about her own brothers.