Sweet Thirteen Page 10

  Isabel rummaged through her book bag until she found a tube, and handed it to Maeve. “Happy early birthday,” she said. “Never been used. It’s all yours.”

  “Thanks.” Maeve took the mascara, and a tube of lip gloss from her own purse, and Katani handed over a mirror. It took the rest of the napkins in the dispenser to clean up the mess of tears and black smears on Maeve’s face. Afterward, she still had red circles around her eyes.

  Charlotte handed Maeve her mug of iced hot chocolate. “Chocolate,” she reminded Maeve, “solves all the problems in the world.”

  Maeve took a long sip and then, finally, smiled.

  “So, what’s wrong?” Isabel asked, lightly touching Maeve’s shoulder.

  Maeve looked over at Sophie and asked, “How do you say ‘Bat Mitzvah’ in French?”

  Charlotte answered. “Since it’s a Hebrew word, just ‘Bat Mitzvah.’”

  Maeve pinched her lips together and groaned. “Figures. It’s a dumb word in any language.”

  “What’s the prob with the Bat M?” Avery sat on her chair backward, talking through bites of yogurt. “I thought you were wicked excited about your party.”

  Maeve sighed, and, although it felt like nails on a chalkboard, finally admitted to everyone, “There won’t be a party.”

  Katani nodded. “Tell them the rest,” she urged. “You can do it!”

  “There never was going to be a party.” Maeve took three more deep breaths and a big gulp of iced hot chocolate before continuing. “I just wanted one so badly, I told everyone they were invited. And when my parents said no, I thought I could still pull it off anyway. But I can’t.”

  “We are all sorry,” Sophie said kindly. “But what is the big, how you say, deal?”

  Maeve felt the tears welling up again. She swallowed hard to hold them back. “How am I going to tell the kids at school?”

  Everyone was quiet with sympathy. This was the real issue. Of course the BSG felt a little let down that the party had never been real, but they cared more that Maeve was okay. But Anna, Joline, and Kiki certainly wouldn’t feel that way.

  “No worries,” Avery piped up. “They’ll just have to deal.”

  Katani nodded. “Maeve and I talked last night, and I thought the best thing to do was just apologize and say that her parents want it to be just family.”

  “But they’re going to be so disappointed.” Maeve moaned, not quite realizing that deep down, she was the most disappointed of all. Disappointed that she couldn’t have her party, but also disappointed that she’d let her best friends down.

  “I’ve got it!” Sophie snapped her fingers. “We will send, how you say, little cards to all your classmates to explain.”

  Charlotte caught onto the idea. “They’ll be unvitations! Like invitations, only the opposite.”

  “I’ll personally deliver unvitations to Anna and Joline,” Katani offered, which broke the ice, making everyone laugh . . . except Maeve, who smiled thinly.

  “Thanks, guys.” Maeve drained the last of her iced hot chocolate and glanced in Katani’s mirror. The red circles were almost gone.

  “Of course!” Sophie put an arm around Maeve. “This is not a problème at all. Poof!” she waved her hand. “No party. Too bad for those duuuuds.”

  This made Maeve laugh for real.

  “Duuudes,” Charlotte reminded Sophie.

  “Too bad for those duuuudes,” Sophie repeated, satisfied that she’d said it right.

  Maeve sighed. “Those duuuudes are going to be mad at me. I promised them the raddest party ever.”

  “They won’t be mad,” Isabel promised. “Anyway, if they are, that’s their deal. Everyone knows that these things really aren’t about the party. Like my own confirmation. It was more about the prayers and the promises than anything else.”

  “You sound like my mom,” Maeve grimaced, rolling her eyes. “Ugh.” Then a glimmer came into Maeve’s eye and she added, “You’re right, Isabel. Being a Bat Mitzvah is not about the party.” She wrinkled her nose. “But it’s not all about the service either.”

  “It’s not?” Charlotte asked, and the other BSG echoed with, “Huh?”

  “It’s about the dress . . . right??”

  Ping-Pong

  Maeve, back to talking a million miles a minute, explained her master plan. “There may not be a party, but that dress will be my consolation prize. You guys would not believe how fabulous it is! There have to be a million sequins, and I totally think I could get away with wearing it to the Academy Awards! Thing is, I only have about forty dollars saved, so I’m gonna have to earn, like, a hundred and fifty dollars. I’m not going to be able to hang out as much with you all and Sophie,” Maeve apologized. “I’m sitting for this kid named Austin today and tomorrow after school.”

  As she said it, Maeve wondered, Did I do the right thing, taking this job? I mean, I still need to practice my Hebrew and prepare for the service, and Sophie isn’t here much longer, and I am giving up two whole afternoons. I’m not so sure. . . . Then again, Sam said they pay a TON of money, and the dress costs a TON!

  Sophie gave Maeve’s hand a squeeze. “I wish you luck in buying the dress! It sounds très chic. Maybe I can help you pick out the shoes?”

  Maeve jumped up and draped her arm over Sophie’s shoulders. “I have the best friends ever! Thanks so much, and merci beaucoup, Sophie.”

  “I think—” Charlotte wanted to let Maeve know that maybe she shouldn’t get so excited about this dress, especially since it cost so much, but Maeve was still gushing to Sophie.

  “I can’t imagine how life will be without you here! We’ll all miss you so much when you go back to Paris . . . ,” Maeve went on dramatically.

  Charlotte quietly pushed herself back from the table, trying to put a finger on her feelings. It was like Maeve didn’t even see her sitting there. Everything was Sophie, Sophie, Sophie. She wasn’t really angry or sad. So, what was she?

  Oh, no, Charlotte realized as an unsettling feeling took over. Maeve’s arm was around Sophie’s shoulder instead of hers. What’s going on?Charlotte wondered. Have I been replaced?

  At that exact moment, Nick showed up, carrying a platter.

  “Special delivery,” he said, setting a plate of French pastries in front of the girls. “Made by my mom in honor of Sophie’s visit.”

  “Merci, merci,” Sophie gushed.

  “Hey, do you guys want to go hiking with me this weekend? It’ll be fun,” Nick asked with a glance in Charlotte’s direction.

  “That’s rad, duuud!” Sophie said, making everyone at the table laugh.

  “Merveilleux!” Charlotte replied, imitating Sophie as if it was a joke, but deep down, Charlotte felt uneasy. No one heard her anyway. Nick’s sister had called him away, and everyone else was wrapped up in a new American slang lesson with Sophie.

  “Repeat after me: awesomicity,” Maeve lectured, spreading her elbows out on the table so Charlotte had to shift over to make room.

  I’m the only one who feels left out, Charlotte realized, heart sinking as the conversation shifted to the subject of French fashion. It was like she was on the outside, looking in. Not really part of the action. Just an observer. What’s wrong with me? Charlotte wondered. Why does everything feel so awful right now?

  “Hey.” Dillon came by the table just before everyone had to head out to school. “’Sup?”

  “Nothing, dude,” Sophie replied, finally getting the inflection correct, which somehow made everyone laugh even harder than when she got it wrong! She gestured across the table at Avery, “Come sit down.”

  Dillon grabbed an empty chair from the next table over and started to push it toward Avery.

  “There’s more room over there,” Avery replied, kicking Izzy under the table. Isabel nodded, trying not to laugh outright at the stunned expression on Dillon’s face, and pushed over, leaving an open space next to Sophie.

  “No, no, Isabel.” Sophie waved her hands graciously. “Dillon should sit by A
very. Parfait. Perfect. He’d be more comfortable by the window.” In a quick move, Sophie rearranged the mugs and plates on the table to leave a crumbless, open spot next to Avery. “There,” she told him. “All set.”

  Dillon pushed his chair toward the window.

  “No, there.” Avery pointed in the other direction.

  He pulled the chair back.

  “Oh, the poor boy!” Sophie exclaimed. “He is like a Ping-Pong ball!”

  Dillon stood statue still, his face turning stoplight red. Isabel’s laugh finally escaped as she realized he probably had no idea what was going on. Seeing that Charlotte didn’t seem to be following along either, Isabel whispered in her ear.

  “ Soap Opera Digest update: Dillon likes Sophie. Sophie thinks he likes Avery. Avery wants to help Dillon, and Sophie wants to help Avery.”

  All Charlotte heard was “Sophie this”and “Sophie that” and “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie . . .” This was just too much. Her friend was constantly in the spotlight, and she was invisible.

  “I don’t want to hear any more,” Charlotte mumbled, watching Dillon give up and sit at an empty table to chat with Nick. Were they talking about Sophie too?

  Maeve chimed in, “But it’s a dramatic love triangle! Intrigue and romance!” She clutched at her heart.

  Charlotte simply shrugged. “Not interested.”

  “You okay?” Isabel asked, sensing something was troubling Charlotte.

  “I’m fine,” Charlotte told her, symbolically brushing the conversation away with a sweep of her hand. “Never been better.” But inside, she was all torn up. There was no reason to be upset—Sophie was one of her closest friends. Or was she?

  Charlotte finally got a chance to take out her journal during free writing in English class.

  Charlotte’s Journal

  What’s wrong with me? One second I’m worried Sophie won’t get along with my friends, but then when she does, I’m suddenly jealous! I don’t understand how someone could be your BFF when you live in her country, but when they come to yours—it could go so horribly wrong. I wanted everyone to love Sophie, and they do, but way too much! And now I wish they didn’t. She’s forgotten all about me.

  Have I lost my friend? How is that possible? We’ve always been there for each other. Why can’t she see that I need my old BFF back?

  I feel lost.

  This must be how Orangina felt when he was lost in the tunnels, unable to get back home. I don’t know how he’s going to get out yet, but at least he has a magic book.

  If I had a magic book, what would I use it for? Maybe I’d become more stylish and cool like Sophie. I mean, Anna and Joline even want to hang out with her! Not that I care what they think, but I was never cool enough for them. Also, Nick and Dillon are so weird around her. All the boys follow her around with big puppy eyes.

  I’m so confused.

  I want everything back the way it was, when we were BFFs. That’s what I’d use the magic book for. But I guess that won’t happen, and there’s no way I can just tell her how I feel. And I can’t tell the BSG, either. They all love her so much. So what do I do? Just wait and hope it gets better? But what if it doesn’t? And what if I lose the BSG, too???

  She didn’t know how to answer her own questions, so Charlotte drew a line at the bottom of her journal entry signifying that she was done thinking about the Sophie problem for now. She turned the page and wrote: “Orangina’s Travels: Part Five. IDEAS” across the top.

  Charlotte tapped her pencil on the journal. Orangina was in a tricky situation, about to open a door when he had no idea what was behind it and lots of warning not to. But he was an adventurer, so of course he had to keep going. Maybe I could learn a few things from that silly, brave cat.Charlotte smiled to herself.

  Part Two French Mania

  CHAPTER

  11

  Queen of Chic

  Charlotte walked into the lunchroom with her journal clutched tightly in one hand and a bag lunch in the other.

  “Hey, Char!” Avery and Isabel waved her over from their usual table . . . but Sophie was sitting in Charlotte’s spot.

  Everything’s going to be fine, she tried to tell herself, placing her stuff in front of the wiggly seat across the table. Usually no one sat there, but there wasn’t another free seat. Maeve and Katani sat on either side of Sophie, sipping juice while they laughed together.

  As if they’d planned it, all three girls suddenly flipped their scarves the exact same way over their right shoulders. This was way too much! It reminded Charlotte of Anna and Joline—who always dressed and acted identically, like they alone knew anything about style.

  As if the freaky scarf thing wasn’t enough, a tall girl Charlotte recognized from music class stopped to ask Sophie, “My friends and I wanted to know . . . are there any stores in America that sell shoes just like yours? Or can you only get them in Paris?”

  How many Sophie clones are there? Charlotte wondered, trying to get comfortable in her wobbly seat.

  Avery opened her lunch bag and bent in toward Charlotte to whisper conspiratorially, “Maybe I should make a sign: ‘Sophie Advice: one dollar.’ I’d make a killing.”

  Normally, Charlotte would have chuckled at Avery’s remark, but not today. She was completely overcome with the feeling that Sophie was growing larger than life, while she was shrinking into the background.

  And things were about to get much worse.

  “QOM alert,” Avery announced in the middle of a long slurp of milk.

  Charlotte wondered if her thoughts had somehow summoned Kiki, Anna, and Joline. They hovered just far enough away to make it clear that they pitied Sophie for sitting at this unfortunate, totally uncool table.

  “Hey, Sophie. Missed you at the movie,” Anna chirped, completely ignoring Charlotte and the BSG.

  “My dad got us VIP tickets,” Kiki bragged. “We sat in the same section as JT.” Kiki shot an aren’t-you-jealous look at Maeve, who tried to pretend her square of cheese pizza was much more interesting than sitting with celebrities.

  Kiki smiled at Sophie. “Next time, maybe you’ll come with us.”

  Sophie clicked her tongue. “If you invite my friends too, but of course!”

  Kiki rolled her eyes disdainfully, as if she were preparing to make a great sacrifice. She sighed loudly, then pouted. “If Sophie comes, I suppose you all can tag along too.”

  “Your enthusiasm is sooo welcoming.” Katani’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Avery let out such a huge snort of laughter that milk came spurting out of her nose! Some of it splattered onto Kiki’s jeans, and the Empress of Mean left in a huff.

  But Anna and Joline didn’t follow. “We just love the way you dress,” Anna remarked to Sophie.

  “L-O-V-E, love!” Joline spelled out.

  “We’re going to the mall this weekend,” Anna added, her voice syrupy sweet. “Madame Brusie has a satellite store here in Brookline. Her boxy jackets are TDF! To die for!”

  “Oui, oui! I have the green coat from her last collection,” Sophie replied. It was clear to Charlotte that she was impressed anyone in America knew about the French fashionista Madame Brusie. “I was very lucky to get it.”

  “Oooh,” Joline gushed.

  “You know, you could come with us.” Anna glanced over at Charlotte and the BSG, smiling as she extended the invitation to them all with a regal wave of her hand.

  “Perhaps we will.” Sophie nodded and bit into her apple.

  “See you!” Joline squealed, and they sauntered away, whispering to each other at top speed.

  Katani pushed her tray to the side and folded her hands together. Sophie doesn’t know any better, she told herself. But it still made her uncomfortable to think about doing anything with the Queens. “Something smells fishy,” Katani spoke up.

  “And it’s not the cafeteria’s mystery meat,” Isabel added with a chuckle.

  “Not to worry so much!” Sophie brushed away Katani’s suspicions. “They are tr
ying to be nice. Maybe they are changing their ways? Oui? Relax and enjoy.”

  Charlotte couldn’t possibly “relax and enjoy.” It was all too weird. The QOM probably didn’t even know the meaning of nice. They just wanted a piece of Sophie’s popularity! Why doesn’t Sophie get it?Charlotte thought. But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything, because her “famous” friend was smiling widely and describing Madame Brusie’s spring line to Katani and Maeve.

  Didn’t Sophie understand that the only reason Anna included the BSG was so Sophie would go? Charlotte felt like it was a little too late to explain her worries, but she truly wished that Sophie had just said no. It seemed like Sophie was the new Queen—not of mean, but of what? Charlotte thought about it. Queen of Fabulosity? No. Queen of Cool? Maybe. Queen of Chic? Definitely. That was it! Sophie Morel was the newly crowned Queen of Chic. But where was Charlotte in her realm?

  How to Defreakify

  Maeve was actually relieved that the Queens of Mean stopped by during lunch. Not a single person had asked her about her Bat Mitzvah party that morning, and her luck held as Maeve trailed Sophie through their afternoon classes. The spotlight stayed firmly on AAJH’s newest French celebrity. In the hallways everyone was whispering, “Have you seen Sophie Morel? She’s amazing! Totally stylish. Where can I get a scarf like that?”

  Right before science, the last class of the day, Betsy Fitzgerald mentioned something about Maeve’s party. But thankfully the bell rang, and Betsy hurried to her seat before Maeve could cough up her disappointing answer: “There’s no party. You’ll be getting an unvitation any day now. Sorry.”

  As Sophie described her science class in Paris to a room full of rapt admirers, Maeve couldn’t pay attention. No matter how hard she tried to listen, her fight with her parents kept sneaking into her mind. She recited a little wish: Please, everyone, just pay attention to Sophie and let me conveniently forget to talk about the nonexistent party.If everything went right, this whole Bat Mitzvah disaster could disappear into the day-to-day drama of AAJH!