Sweet Thirteen Read online

  “Tell us what you might wear to a party in Africa,” Ms. O’Reilly prompted her.

  “A dashiki shirt over American jeans.” Charlotte explained how she used to wear the African designed multicolored blouses with her own pants. “Or if it was a more formal party, a sarong. That’s a special kind of dress you can wear in different ways by wrapping it around yourself.”

  Charlotte perked up a bit as she answered the teacher’s questions, but after every one, the class always asked about France.

  “How do you pick what to wear at home in Paris?” Joline asked.

  “Well, I usually picked out a color that fits my mood, first—,” Charlotte started.

  “In Paris,” Sophie explained, inadvertently cutting Charlotte off before she was finished, “we are inspired by what we see on television or in the magazines, but sometimes I get ideas just from people I pass on the streets!”

  Charlotte’s spirits fell as hands waved in the air. No one had wanted to ask her about fashion in Paris, Tanzania, or even the Great Barrier Reef.

  “All the top designers come from France,” Katani added.

  “Except for you, Katani,” Isabel noted.

  Sophie smiled. “I am certain you will be at the top one day, Kgirl!”

  Ms. O’Reilly cleared her throat. “Fashion is also important in many different cultural traditions. Can anyone think of an example?”

  “I wore a sweet crown at my Bar Mitzvah!” Henry Yurt broke in. He leaped up from his desk and held out his arms. “All hail King Yurt!”

  The Trentini twins bowed, and the class broke into laughter.

  The Apology

  As the class compared what they all wore to birthday parties, dances, Easter services, Bar Mitzvahs, and even Halloween, Maeve slumped down in her seat. Her unvitations seemed to burn through the pink canvas of her book bag. She’d printed out more than a hundred copies last night on her computer. Enough to pass out to the whole seventh grade.

  Maeve tried to imagine herself handing out the papers, and failed completely. With a sigh, she opened a new text file on her laptop.

  * * *

  Maeve’s Notes to Self

  1. In the future, never EVER invite people to a party that doesn’t exist.

  2. Leave the unvitations in the cafeteria and hope people find them.

  3. Move to France until this whole thing blows over.

  4. Buy the Think Pink dress first. I bet they adore sequins in France!

  Maeve leaned back in her desk, visualizing her dress. . . . Well, the one that would be hers if she could just handle Austin for a few more afternoons.

  When the bell rang, Maeve jumped, slightly caught off guard, then asked Isabel what the homework assignment had been.

  “Didn’t you hear?” Isabel wondered while the group walked out of the classroom.

  “No, I was thinking”—Maeve reached into her backpack and slowly, painfully withdrew a stack of papers, which she then sadly handed to Isabel—“about these. I think I’ll just leave them somewhere in the cafeteria.”

  Isabel nodded and gestured for the BSG and Sophie to follow her off to one side of the hallway where they could talk without anyone, especially not Anna and Joline, hearing.

  Isabel thrust the unvitations out toward the others. “Maeve . . . made these . . . to . . . hand out.” Isabel said loudly, over-pronouncing everything. The rest of the BSG got her secret meaning immediately. They had to stop Maeve from handing out the apology notes!

  Katani took one of Maeve’s unvitations and held it up.

  “Very nice!” she complimented Maeve. “I like the fancy border, and the font makes it so classy.”

  “I figured if I was going to have to apologize,” Maeve said with a small shrug, “I should do it with ultimate style and grace.”

  The girls passed one of Maeve’s notes around.

  “Wow! If I ever have to make unvitations, I’m putting you in charge!” Avery exclaimed.

  “The French is a very classique touch,” Sophie noted.

  Charlotte put an arm around Maeve’s shoulders. “You managed to write it so graciously.”

  Maeve smiled at her friends’ approval. The cards were elegant. Just like something Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind would have written. So why did the mere thought of handing them out make Maeve’s heart race and her palms go all sweaty?

  “There are just a couple of, ummm, problems with the unvitations,” Isabel said out of the blue.

  Behind Maeve’s back, Isabel opened her eyes wide, silently begging her friends for help.

  “Um, yeah,” Charlotte put in. “The borders are . . . black-and-white!” She groaned slightly at her own lame suggestion.

  “They really should be in color,” Sophie smoothly amended.

  “I can help with that!” Isabel quickly offered. “I have colored pencils in my bag.”

  “And you spelled ‘forth with’ wrong. It’s actually one word,” Charlotte pointed out. “I can fix it without you even reprinting anything. I’ll just write a dash in there on the copies.”

  “We can take care of these little fixes and hand them out for you later,” Katani offered.

  “Yeah,” Avery put in. “So you don’t have to just leave them in the cafeteria.”

  On the sly, Isabel winked at Katani while saying, “Don’t worry. We’re going to take care of all of it for you, Maeve!”

  Maeve almost threw the entire stack of invitations in the air, like confetti, she was so happy! “You are the greatest BFFs EVER!” she gushed. “Thanks so so so so so much!” She hugged each of them in turn, then hurried off to switch her books for the next class.

  “We’ll be the greatest BFFs if we can pull off this party!” Isabel mentioned to the group once Maeve was out of hearing range.

  “That’s for sure,” Avery agreed.

  “Do you really think we can organize a surprise party in just one week?” Katani worried.

  “We also have to figure out where to hide her unvitations,” Charlotte put in.

  “C’est la vie!” Sophie said with finality.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Sophie Mania

  When Charlotte and Sophie walked into the lunchroom, they were greeted by walls plastered with bright red and blue French Club posters and a surprising lunch menu.

  Charlotte stared at the menu. Whose idea was this? She had planned to make croque-monsieurs for Sophie over the weekend! It was her specialty, and she even had all the ingredients already.

  “Over here!” Avery waved from a spot near the end of a very long lunch line where she, Isabel, Maeve, and Katani had saved a spot. It seemed the entire school wanted to try the French food!

  “I brought my lunch today, but I think I’d rather try that salad nick-oise thingy!” Avery announced.

  “It’s sah-lad nis-wahs,” Sophie corrected. “And it’s délicieux! But I will have a croque-monsieur, my favorite!”

  Charlotte’s mood sank. Would Sophie want to have the same lunch again this weekend?

  Betsy Fitzgerald waltzed into line behind the BSG. “What do you think?” she asked, eyes glittering. “I spent hours after school this week, talking to Mrs. Fields and the cafeteria staff. They finally agreed to kick off AAJH’s very first French Club with a Parisian luncheon!”

  “It’s . . . ,” Charlotte started.

  “Fantabulawesome!” Maeve finished, making up a new word on the spot.

  “I am feeling right at home!” Sophie smiled, and Charlotte sighed. Suddenly it felt as if the whole world were conspiring to tear Sophie away from her. What happened to our friendship? It lasted even when there was a whole ocean between us!Now Sophie was standing right next to Charlotte, but she might as well have been across the world. Charlotte shrank back against the wall as Sophie’s fans crowded around, chirping with excitement about the menu and Betsy’s new club. If Sophie was BFFs with everyone in the entire school, was there any room for Charlotte?

  When the BSG finally got through
the line, lunch was half over. Charlotte plopped down on the wiggly seat next to Avery, setting down a tray with a slightly soggy croquemonsieur. Sophie was lagging behind. Of course, everyone wanted her to sit with them. Right now Anna and Joline had her cornered by the snack machines.

  “No, thank you, I already have a place to sit. Maybe next time?” Charlotte overheard Sophie say.

  Help! I’m losing my oldest friend, and I don’t know what to do,Charlotte cried out inside as Sophie seated herself across the table, between Katani and Maeve. There was a group of scarf-clad girls forming a sort of line, waiting to talk to her. What happened to the special week we were going to spend together, just us? Like it always was before? Charlotte smooshed up her face and stared at her lunch.

  “Char, what’s bugging you?” Isabel asked, taking a bite of her quiche.

  “Nothing,” Charlotte grumped, poking at her soggy ham and cheese. If she’d made croque-monsieurs for everyone, they would have been perfect.

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Katani prodded, worried.

  I didn’t know I was so transparent, Charlotte thought. “It’s nothing, really.” She couldn’t tell them how neglected she was feeling with Sophie sitting right there!

  “Okay.” Avery shrugged. “Just tell us when you’re ready. No frowns allowed in the Scarfless Wonders Club!” Avery stood up in her seat and leaned over the table to tap Sophie on the shoulder. “Speaking of eating, are you going to finish the rest of your croak-monsore?” Avery was obviously never going to learn the intricacies of French pronunciation. She rubbed her belly. “It looks yum.”

  Charlotte noticed that Sophie was having trouble eating anyway, what with so many admirers gathered to speak to her. Her lunch had barely been touched when Sophie passed it over to Avery.

  “Did you see my posters? I have handouts, too.” Betsy had made it through the lunch line, and now cut into the Sophie line, balancing a bowl of soup on her tray with one hand as she passed out papers with the other. She looked even more serious than usual, wearing a dark blue silk scarf with a button-down shirt.

  Katani managed to snag one of the papers and read it out loud to the BSG. “‘Come learn the language of love! AAJH’s first official French Language Club begins at three o’clock today in the social studies room. Hosted by club president Betsy Fitzgerald, with special guests Mrs. Fields and Sophie Morel.’”

  “I thought we were going to the art museum after school today?” Isabel glanced at Charlotte, who nodded. It was written in on Katani’s schedule.

  Sophie didn’t even bat an eye. “There will be time!” she said cheerfully.

  “First, we all have to learn the language of love!” Maeve gushed. “There are sooo many fabulous old movies in French. Have you guys ever seen La Belle et la Bête, the first and greatest Beauty and the Beast film?”

  The BSG shook their heads at Maeve’s movie obsession. This happened almost every day, and they’d never once heard of any of the movies she mentioned, unless she’d brought one to a sleepover.

  “I’ll be in your club, Fitzgerald!” Dillon tossed in. He’d been hovering near the Sophie line, as if trying to get up the courage to talk to the Queen of Chic. “I can’t wait to speak-a-ze French,” he said in the nutty accent he’d somehow acquired during social studies.

  “You can’t wait to parler français,” Sophie gently corrected Dillon, causing him to blush yet again.

  Avery swallowed the last bite of Sophie’s abandoned lunch and thought, If Dillon doesn’t get control of himself soon, his face might turn red permanently. She laughed to herself, picturing his face like a tomato.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Betsy!” Anna came rushing up. Joline was hot on her heels. They pushed and shoved their way through the crowd to get to Sophie.

  “Joline and I already started a French club. Ours are the red signs. We’re meeting after school today, and Sophie is coming to our meeting!” Anna gave Sophie her sugary-sweet smile.

  “S’il vous plaît,”Joline added with wide puppy eyes directed straight at Sophie. “It’s a French fashion club!”

  With a small spin, Joline showed off the paisley- patterned yellow and beige scarf she was wearing. Anna had on the exact same one, and they were both tied off to the side, exactly how Sophie had taught Maeve to tie hers.

  “Très chic? Don’t you think?” Anna asked, flipping the end of her scarf over her shoulder.

  Sophie paused, as if mulling it over, then declared, “Yes, very nice.”

  All the girls in the crowd murmured in agreement, as if they’d been waiting for Sophie’s reaction . . . not hanging on Anna’s every word, like usual.

  “Come on.” Betsy turned around and threw up her hands at the crowd. “Sophie is way too smart for you. She would rather be involved in instructing linguistics than presenting fashion to a bunch of copycats.”

  Charlotte wondered which club Sophie had agreed to be involved with. Or had she agreed to both? The look on Sophie’s face was fading from permanently cheery to something more worried as the push and pull escalated.

  “You stole our idea,” Anna accused Betsy. “We had our French fashion club going before you started your lame language one.”

  “Linguistics,” Joline mocked the word that Betsy used. “What does that even mean?”

  “It’s the study of language,” Betsy replied. “Not that the two of you even know English very well!”

  “You are so not invited to our fashion club,” Anna snipped.

  Betsy stepped closer to Anna. “You couldn’t make me join your club if you begged.”

  “Paix!” Sophie clapped her hands once and stood up between a serious-looking Betsy and the pouting QOM. “That means ‘peace’ and is the first word we learn today.” Sophie put her hands on her hips. “There is no reason to argue. Non. We will have both. Fashion club and Français club! Today after school, okay?”

  Betsy and Anna glared at each other for another long moment, then stalked away. But the buzz in the crowd was palpable. Everyone wanted to know who was going to which club! And how would Sophie come to both?

  “She’ll have to switch back and forth,” one girl said to her friend.

  “Or maybe they’ll have the clubs back-to-back,” the friend answered.

  Katani mouthed to the BSG, “No time for the art museum?”

  Isabel nodded. “It’s okay,” she mouthed back. She could go to the museum any old day, but Sophie was only here to teach them French and fashion for one more week!

  Charlotte sighed. She’d much rather head on over to a museum with her friends than hang out in the background at school while everyone worshipped Sophie. But what could she do? It looked like the BSG had made their decision. Katani was even debating with Maeve whether they should go to the fashion club! How could they even think of joining a club that the QOM started? That’s just asking for trouble!The whole world seemed to be turning inside out and upside down.

  Sitting at the table, head in hands, Charlotte began to wonder if anyone remembered her existence at all. I could lead a French club, Charlotte thought. I’m fluent, just like Sophie. But no one ever asked me. It was so confusing. One minute Charlotte was worried about Sophie fitting in with the BSG. The next . . . Sophie was taking AAJH by storm and leaving the BSG and her in the dust.

  One Rare Tulip

  Charlotte cleared her lunch tray, alone, feeling her throat tighten. I won’t cry, she told herself. I feel absolutely miserable, but I won’t!

  “Charlotte,” Ms. O’Reilly called her name as she set her tray down at the window. “Have a moment?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Sure.”

  Ms. O’Reilly, who was on lunch duty that day, brought Charlotte to a quiet corner of the cafeteria and said, “So, your friend has become quite popular, hmmm?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I know.”

  The kind social studies teacher patted an empty on-duty teacher seat. “I’ve been watching you and Sophie, and I have a story you might like to hear.”
>
  A story?Charlotte’s mind instantly raced to Orangina’s story. He was still stuck at the end of a dark tunnel, about to open a mysterious door. Hopefully Ms. O’Reilly’s story was happier than that. “Okay,” she said, although she felt a little like a teacher’s pet sitting over here. Not that anyone would notice. . . .

  “Sometimes,” Ms. O’Reilly began, “people go crazy over something because it’s new and different. But then, when the craze is over, everyone is left wondering what happened.”

  It didn’t take a brain surgeon to realize that this was no random story Ms. O’Reilly was telling. She’s talking about Sophie,Charlotte realized. She recalled her own first days in Australia, Tanzania, and Paris. She’d been new and different and sort of cool for a little while . . . until she ruined everything with the inevitable klutz attack.

  Charlotte was drawn out of her thoughts when Ms. O’Reilly’s story took a strange turn into world history. “In the early seventeenth century, the tulip was new to Holland. It didn’t take long, though, before everyone saw how pretty and wonderful and chic the flower was.” Ms. O’Reilly smiled warmly at Charlotte. “Suddenly the flower became very, very popular. So popular, in fact, that bulbs sold for incredibly high prices—thousands of florins.”

  “What’s a florin? Their money?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes. And a normal yearly salary in Holland at the time was only three hundred florins! But the fancier and rarer bulbs you owned, the more you could sell them for and the better your status was in society.”

  I get it now. Charlotte considered. Sophie is a rare tulip. “So is that all? Everyone just bought more and more tulips?” I wonder how the roses felt. . . .Charlotte thought.

  “Well,” Ms. O’Reilly went on. “By the end of 1636, there was total tulip mania in Holland. Traders earned more money than they ever imagined. People all over were clamoring to get better and fresher and brighter flowers. But fads don’t last forever.”

  Ms. O’Reilly paused dramatically.

  “There were too many tulips?” Charlotte guessed.