Sweet Thirteen Page 6

  6

  Sensei Sensation

  Sophie’s coming later,” Charlotte announced for the bazillionth time after school on Tuesday. A pair of seventh-grade girls Charlotte didn’t even know nodded and walked away.

  Charlotte had been shocked to discover that her big announcement at Henry Yurt’s Bar Mitzvah had created such a buzz! Everyone expected to see Sophie at school, and Charlotte had to keep repeating the same excuse: “My dad stayed home from work today so Sophie could unpack and recover from jet lag.”

  The BSG giggled as Charlotte rolled her eyes. “What was that, Sophie question number one thousand and forty-two?” Katani asked.

  Avery leaned up against the lockers. “QOM alert! Behind you!” she whispered.

  “So,” Joline started out, “where’s this French friend of yours?”

  “Number one thousand and forty-three!” Isabel blurted out, and Avery collapsed with laughter.

  “You girls are sooo wacko.” Anna tossed her hair. “I bet Sophie didn’t come to Boston after all,” she added.

  “You’re right,” Avery told Anna. “She heard you were here, and she got right back on that airplane.” Avery smirked, and Katani touched her shoulder. “Ave . . .” She always told the BSG it was best to just walk away from the QOM rather than trying to play their game. But this time it was a little too late.

  “Whatever,” Joline responded.

  “Yeah, at least we don’t need imaginary friends to make us popular,” Anna taunted as she walked away.

  When they reached the end of the hall, Joline turned back. “Hey, Maeve, let us know where your party is going to be. . . . That is, if it’s not an imaginary party!” And, knowing they had stung last, the Queens headed victorious to the school exit.

  Maeve’s mature reply was to stick out her tongue at the girls’ backs. She was getting good at this!

  Avery gave Maeve a high-five. “The perfect response.”

  “Anyone up for a snack?” Katani asked. “I’m dying for a Montoya’s iced hot chocolate. . . . And we could get croissants in honor of Sophie!”

  “Can’t.” Charlotte reminded them that Sophie was stopping by school. “My imaginary friend needs to meet with Mrs. Fields. Dad’s bringing her”—she checked her bangly watch—“in about ten minutes.”

  Katani smiled. “Say hey to Grandma Ruby for me.”

  “Sorry, I can’t go either,” Isabel told her friends. “I’m taking a graphic-art class over at the community center today.” She grabbed her book bag and headed out.

  “Hey, Isabel, wait up,” Maeve called. “I’ll walk with you. I have Hebrew tutoring again.”

  Avery was off to run drills with her softball team on the field behind the school, so Katani said to Charlotte, “Montoya’s is on Sophie’s calendar for later this week, anyway. I can hold off my craving till then.” She slung her yellow shoulder bag, accented with little fabric flowers, over her shoulder. “See ya.”

  Quelle Surprise

  The halls were quiet as Charlotte walked to the office. Outside the principal’s door, Charlotte paused for a moment, listening closely.

  “. . . premier séjour a Boston?” Someone was speaking French, asking about a “first stay in Boston,” and it wasn’t Sophie! Charlotte knocked lightly, and her dad opened the door.

  “Bonjour!” greeted Mrs. Fields. “I was just speaking with Sophie about her visit.”

  “In French?” Charlotte asked.

  The principal explained that she learned French in college, and even spent a semester at La Sorbonne, the most historic and famous university in Paris!

  “Quelle bonne surprise!”Charlotte exclaimed. “What a great surprise!”

  “Bien sûr! I am full of surprises,” Mrs. Fields told Charlotte. Then she explained to Sophie that she was welcome to shadow Charlotte through her whole schedule for the rest of the week.

  As Sophie nodded along and asked questions about the different classes and school rules, Charlotte noticed once again how sophisticated her friend looked. She was wearing another very cute legging outfit, this time with a plain white scarf around her neck. Charlotte looked down at her own capris and purple-striped polo shirt. When she’d put it on in the morning, she’d thought she looked cute, but now, next to Sophie, she wasn’t so sure.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Mrs. Fields asked in English.

  “I am just glad to be with my friend!” Sophie exclaimed, putting her arm around Charlotte.

  Is that perfume? Charlotte leaned in closer to Sophie’s neck. Yes. It was. Dad says I’m not old enough for perfume, Charlotte thought. Sophie’s so lucky.

  Sophie gave Charlotte a friendly little squeeze before taking back her arm and putting her hands on her hips.

  “Ready to go?” Charlotte asked.

  “Wait, j’ai une idée.”Sophie explained her idea. “I was thinking. Maybe my classmates in Paris can talk to the students here in America over the Internet.”

  “Merveilleux.” Mrs. Fields was clearly excited about the possibility. “How does it work?”

  “I might be able to help with the technology,” Mr. Ramsey offered. “I used Skype all the time when Charlotte and I lived abroad.”

  “Terrific. Let’s get it done now, while you’re here,” Mrs. Fields suggested, then turned to Charlotte. “While your dad and I get this set up with Ms. O’Reilly, why don’t you give Sophie a tour of the school?”

  “I am so glad to be here,” Sophie said as Charlotte walked her past the classrooms and the cafeteria. “It’s not so different from when we went to school together in Paris, non?”

  “Non,” Charlotte agreed. “School is school wherever you go.” For a moment it seemed as if they were together again in their old school in Paris, friends for life. Charlotte linked arms with Sophie and smiled.

  On their way to see the ball fields, and hopefully, to catch up for a sec with Avery, Charlotte and Sophie passed the gym. They could hear kids’ voices inside shouting, “Kiyap! Kiyap!”

  “What are they doing?” Sophie wondered, pausing by the door. “Une minute,” she begged, peeking into the room.

  “It’s only Dillon,” Charlotte explained, after a quick look over her friend’s shoulder.

  “Who is Dillon?” Sophie took Charlotte’s arm and led her into the gym. “We can go to the field after—ooohhh!” Sophie got all excited when she saw Dillon in his karate uniform. “I love kung fu!”

  Dillon turned from his class of elementary school kids to face the newcomers. “It’s not kung fu,” he corrected. “It’s karate. Kung fu is Chinese martial arts. Karate is Japanese.”

  Sophie shook her head. “All I know is j’adore Jackie Chan movies!”

  “That’s kung fu.” Dillon smiled brightly. “Chan is from China.” He didn’t miss a beat before adding, “I like his movies too.” His class patiently looked on. The kids had been in the middle of learning a new kick, so they were all standing with one leg out.

  “Did you see New Fist of Fury?” Sophie asked.

  “That movie was a flop!” Dillon told her. “His new stuff is so much better.” Dillon didn’t seem to notice that some of the little ones were starting to fall over onto the mat.

  “Ah, but to build on the past,” Sophie reflected. Charlotte wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but Sophie’s French accent made each word sound very important. And man, oh man, was Dillon impressed. In fact, Charlotte had never seen him like this before. Usually he was Mr. Popular, flirting with every girl in sight, but Sophie seemed to have him frozen in place, and his face was cherry red. I think Dillon’s so smitten, he’s completely forgotten about his class!

  She was right. A small boy in the front row was the only one left with his leg out. “Master Dillon,” the kid whimpered, “my leg’s getting tired.”

  “Oops,” Dillon said, quickly ending the conversation with Sophie. “You can rest now, Benny.”

  “An absentminded sensei,” Sophie teased. If it was possible for Dillon t
o get any redder, he did. Charlotte was amazed at how quickly Dillon started crushing on Sophie. The transformation took less than . . . une minute!

  “Let’s go,” Charlotte suggested. “Dillon needs to teach.”

  The girls turned back into the hallway where there were suddenly quite a few students spilling out of classrooms. After-school clubs were coming to an end.

  “Bonjour,”Sophie said repeatedly as she took time to greet some of Charlotte’s classmates and friends. Betsy Fitzgerald had a dozen questions about the French Revolution, and Sophie answered all of them! Betsy walked off grinning widely.

  Sophie’s so smooth. Charlotte remembered her own first week at AAJH. Even though she’d lived in Boston when she was little, all the years of traveling had made the city a foreign place, and, of course, the faces at school were all brand-new. On her very first day she was such a klutz that she managed to zip a tablecloth into her pants at lunch!

  That would never happen to Sophie, Charlotte realized. She’s never even been to America, but she’s so confident, like she owns the country. . . . Or at least the school. Everyone loves her.

  Charlotte especially noticed the way the boys looked at Sophie. It wasn’t just Dillon who’d gone all gaga. The Trentinis and even Henry Yurt stared a little longer than normal.

  Then she saw Nick coming down the hall, freshly showered from a pickup game of hoops on the outside court. Oh, good!Charlotte felt relieved. Nick was one boy who wouldn’t fall for Sophie. Charlotte was sure of it!

  “Hey!” Nick trotted over and gave Charlotte’s hand a squeeze. “This must be the famous Sophie Morel!”

  “Bonjour!” Sophie greeted, and gave Nick a warm smile.

  He smiled right back. “So, what do you think of America?”

  Sophie told him all her impressions—how nice everyone was, but how some people talked way too fast for her to understand. After a few minutes Sophie turned to Charlotte and said in French, “Il est très mignon! Tu as le bon goût.”

  “What? What did she say?” Nick begged.

  “Allons-y! We have to go,” Charlotte protested, pulling on Sophie’s arm. She couldn’t believe Sophie had said that out loud! Of course, Nick couldn’t understand, but still . . . No way was Charlotte translating for her crush: He’s really cute! You have good taste!

  “T’es folle?!” Charlotte griped—“Are you crazy?!”— as Sophie started laughing.

  “What did you say?” Nick turned to Charlotte, looking totally befuddled.

  Charlotte’s escape plan was disrupted by a crash as the door of the gym opened and little Benny from karate careened out into the hall, running at full speed.

  Even though Charlotte tried to step aside and avoid getting pancaked by the kid, she didn’t have even a smidgen of Avery’s agility or quick reflexes. Quite the opposite, in fact. If there was going to be an accident, it was one hundred percent certain Charlotte would somehow be involved.

  As fate would have it, Charlotte missed being plowed down by the oncoming freight train named Benny, but lost her balance as she stepped out of the way and crashed right into Sophie! The two of them tumbled to the floor. Benny, unaware of his role in the mishap, giggled and pointed at the jumble of girls.

  Charlotte had fallen clumsily a thousand times before, but she never got used to that miserable feeling of humiliation that can only come from lying on the floor, staring up at wide-eyed faces. Why today? Why now, in front of Sophie? And Nick!?

  “Oof,” Sophie said from beneath Charlotte. Somehow Charlotte had managed to get herself tangled in Sophie’s beautiful scarf. It made getting up a bit of a challenge.

  Billy and Josh Trentini came running around the corner from their lockers, looking for the source of the commotion at the same time as Dillon burst out of the gym.

  Billy got there first. “I’ll help you,” he told Sophie, pulling on one of her arms, trying to get her back on her feet.

  “No, I will,” Josh said, shoving his brother away and grabbing Sophie’s other arm.

  “I was here first,” Billy whined.

  Dillon interrupted their squabble with two quick karate wrist locks, and the twins backed away, cradling their hands. “What’d you do that for?” Josh groaned.

  “Let me help you,” Dillon offered, extending one hand.

  “You may all help me up,” Sophie said, raising her hands toward the boys. “Merci.” She gracefully got back on her feet.

  Charlotte didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was super embarrassed and at the same time, it was a riot to see the boys acting so insanely! She couldn’t wait to tell the BSG. If she’d been Sophie, she’d have told them all to go away. . . . But Sophie handled it so much more maturely. There was a small crowd around her now. Charlotte didn’t want to look to see who was over there. She could only imagine all the boys vying for Sophie’s attention, making sure she was okay.

  Charlotte was just about to get herself up, with no help from anyone, when she felt a warm hand take hers and a small breath near her ear.

  “Here, let me help you.” It was Nick. I can always count on Nick to be there for me,Charlotte realized happily.

  “Sorry, Sophie.” Charlotte squeezed her way into the crowd around her friend. “That was totally my fault just then.”

  “It is all right.” Sophie smiled. “We are all used to your, how do you say . . . futz attacks?”

  The Trentini twins laughed so hard, they nearly fell in a pile on the floor themselves. “Futz attacks!” they chortled, fake punching each other.

  “Um, the word is klutz,” Nick corrected with a sideways glance at Charlotte.

  Charlotte faked a laugh even though she suddenly felt mortified. Sophie is so perfect. . . . Why can’t I be more like her? Charlotte sighed. I wish just once I could get through a single day without falling down and being a klutz . . . or a futz, whatever that is!

  BFF = Best French Friend

  Sophie and Charlotte didn’t talk much on the way home. Or rather, Sophie talked, and Charlotte said things like “mmm” and “yeah.” Sophie seemed totally enamored with Boston, American culture, and boys. Also, she wouldn’t stop practicing the word “klutz,” and Charlotte wished she would never hear that word again! It was almost a relief to sign on to the computer later that evening and find the other BSG already chatting away.

  Charlotte moved over so Sophie could sit at the computer and type.

  Charlotte sat in her room staring at the chat screen while Sophie went to help Mr. Ramsey make a special French meal. Neither of them would tell her what they were making, but the two were up to something. They’d practically banished her from the kitchen.

  When Charlotte finished her homework, Sophie still hadn’t come back, so Charlotte stuck her head out the door and asked, “Now?”

  “We are not ready yet!” yelled Sophie. Something smelled wonderful. Like cheese and greens. Maybe it was some sort of fancy pasta?

  “Do you need help?” she called.

  “No, thanks,” her dad replied. “We’ll let you know when it’s ready!”

  Charlotte closed the chat screen and opened “Orangina’s Travels.” She’d written almost four hundred words, which was about how long her articles for the school newspaper usually ran. But the story wasn’t even close to finished.

  As Charlotte stared at the blinking cursor, two moments came together in her mind. She remembered how Sophie had said “Oof” when they fell in the hallway, and also her funny idea from the airport about tunnels connecting all the different countries in the world.

  “That’s it!” Charlotte said out loud, waking up Marty, who’d been sleeping under the desk. Charlotte massaged the dog’s tummy with her foot as she typed.

  * * *

  Part 3

  Tunnels in the Dark

  “Oof,” Orangina complained, twitching his sore tail. Cats are supposed to land on their feet, but it never seemed to work out that way. If there’s one thing he hated more than being wet, it was being down at the bottom of a
dark hole.

  “No worries, mate! We’ll be out in a jiffy!” sang a happy voice.

  So Big Bruce had somehow fallen in the hole too. Merveilleux! Orangina knew his barge was up there, moving farther and farther away. Perhaps “Big” Bruce could help him out.

  “This is my hole, mate. Leads all over the world. See?”

  Suddenly the air flared into light, and Orangina could see his newest “mate” holding up a tiny lantern with a firefly trapped inside.

  Around the two of them, tunnels branched off in every direction. A sign pointing up said “Paris.” One across the way read “Hong Kong” another “New York” and a third, “Arctic Circle.” There were too many signs to pay attention to all of them.

  “Care to see the pyramids? A cave full of crystals? What about Mount Fuji?”

  “No thank you, petit monsieur, I must return to Parrr-ee!” Orangina meant “Paris,” but he pronounced it like the French cat he was, poking around frantically with his nose for a way back up.

  “Wait!” Big Bruce swung his firefly lantern right in the cat’s face. “I came to Par-ee looking for someone cleverer than I. Will you help me?”

  Orangina didn’t answer. He was thinking of his comfy home in the captain’s cabin of his barge, his bateau. . . .

  “Ahhh, I think you will.” Big Bruce reached into a pocket and pulled out a book that somehow grew three times its size when the tiny man opened it.

  Orangina peered at the bookmarked page, and froze, hair standing on end.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Global Skyping

  Ohhh!” When Katani saw what Sophie was wearing to school, she could barely hold back her excitement. “Your outfit!” Turning quickly to Charlotte, Katani whispered, “How do you say ‘magnificent’ in French?”

  “Magnifique,” Charlotte told her softly.

  “Magnifique,” Katani repeated.

  Sophie was decked out in a short khaki skirt over stockings, a warm yellow peasant blouse, and another scarf— this one tan with pale pink roses.

  “We say yafe m’ode in Hebrew,” Maeve said. “I learned that from my tutor. Very pretty!” Secretly, Maeve wished that Sophie’s outfit had a bit more color and slightly less beige. Maeve peeked down at her own khaki skirt, which she’d paired with a yellow and pink V-neck and pink sparkling slip-on shoes. These shoes would look great with her scarf, Maeve thought.