Cinderella Smith (5 page)

I laughed because I was so surprised by her saying that. I leaned over to her. “Is liking chicken tenders and pineapple a secret?”

“No,” she whispered back. “I'm just trying to bug the Rosemarys.”

“Oh,” I said. I glanced over at the Rosemarys and saw that they kept staring. “I think it's working. By the way, I have a great idea about that thing we were talking about at first recess.”

We finished eating, headed outside, and sat on one of the benches.

“Solving the problem of your possibly wicked stepsisters is complicated,” I said.

“I agree,” said Erin.

“We need a Process,” I said.

Erin looked interested.

“There will be a lot of information, so I'm going to make three pages.”

Erin scooted closer to me on the bench so she had a good view of the notebook.

“This page is for
NOT-WICKED THINGS
.” I wrote that big across the top and turned the page. “This is for
POSSIBLY WICKED THINGS
.” I turned the page again. This is for
FOR-SURE WICKED THINGS
.”

“Great,” said Erin.

“So, ready for some questions?” I asked.

“Yes!” she said.

“Do your possibly wicked stepsisters have big feet?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she said.

I turned to the
POSSIBLY WICKED
page and wrote:
Maybe big feet
.

“Are they messy?”

“I don't know.”

“Are they loud and bossy?”

“I don't know,” said Erin.

“Are they lazy?” I asked.

“I'm not sure,” she said.

“Do they stare in the mirror all the time?”

“I told you; I haven't met them yet!” She sounded a little frustrated.

“Maybe I should talk to someone who knows them better,” I said. “Like your stepfather or your mom.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Let's have a playdate so we can figure this all out,” I said.

“Great!” she said.

“It can't be today though,

because my mom likes some warning,” I said. “And it can't be tomorrow, because I have my first dance class of the year.”

“Oh,” said Erin, and she sounded sad.

“Do you like to dance?” I asked. “Maybe you could sign up for it too. Lots of girls from our class are in it.”

“I usually play soccer in the fall,” said Erin, “but I can ask my mom.”

“You should,” I said. “Because the more the merrier!”

Chapter 7
Tap Shoes with Clip-on Orange Bows

I
was very, extremely excited Thursday for the first dance class of the year. I carpool with Rosemary T. since we're neighbors, and that used to be fine and dandy; but this year it's a little bit of an
Alas
.

“Mrs. Smith,” said Rosemary T. “My mom brought home the leftover brownies you brought to the PTA meeting. They were delicious.”

“I'm glad you liked them,” said my mom.

“My mom asked if she could have the recipe,” said Rosemary T.

“Of course,” said my mom. “I'll email it to her.”

Rosemary T. and my mom talked on and on about cooking. I was only half listening, though, because my mind was on dance class.

“It's been a long time since I've danced,” I said. “I hope I didn't forget everything.”

“You should have gone to dance camp this summer with me and Rosemary W.,” said Rosemary T.

I shrugged my shoulders and acted like I didn't care, but I did.

“We learned a whole bunch of new steps,” said Rosemary T. “And when dance camp was over, we practiced a lot. If you're way behind, I could give you some private lessons.”

I couldn't think of anything worse than that, but my mom said, “That's a nice offer. Thank you, Rosemary.”

Luckily we pulled up to the dance studio right then so I didn't have to say thank you too.
Phew!

I remembered pretty much everything though, even with the summer in between. I put my shoulders back and walked around in my ballet slippers with my toes pointed all through our warm-up. When we changed into our tap shoes, I remembered even better. I step-ball-changed and step-ball-changed like there was no tomorrow. And that just means I was having fun, fun, fun.

After we danced for a while, Miss Akiyama, our dance teacher, sat us down to have a serious talk about the Autumn Recital. She said our class would be doing two dances. One dance was called the Pumpkin Prowl, and the other was called Pumpkin Blossoms.

Rosemary T. just couldn't wait to tell her mom all about it on the drive home. She talked a blue streak, which means very fast without stopping.

“The Pumpkin Blossoms dance has a solo part,” she said. “One person gets to be the Pumpkin Blossom Fairy and wear a special tutu and a crown and clip-on orange bows on her tap shoes. Rosemary W. thinks I would make the best Pumpkin Blossom Fairy in the whole class.”

“I'm sure you would do a fine job,” said Mrs. Taylor.

“Miss Akiyama said we could invite anyone we wanted,” said Rosemary T. “Let's invite everyone we know. Maybe I'll make special invitations on the computer.”

“People would like that,” said Mrs. Taylor. “Who will you invite, Cinderella?”

“I will for sure invite my mom and my dad and Tess,” I said, “and also my grandmothers. I
might even invite the new girl, Erin. Usually I wouldn't invite a kid, but she's thinking about taking dance class, so she can see what it's all about.”

“I was going to invite Erin,” said Rosemary T. “I was going to send her one of my special invitations.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“But getting two invitations is dumb,” said Rosemary T.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it just is,” said Rosemary T.

We pulled up in front of my house.

“Mom, do you think it's a good idea if the person who gets the solo part gets to invite Erin?”

“That seems fair,” said Mrs. Taylor.

Rosemary T. crossed her arms and smiled like she'd just won. I climbed out of the car feeling like I'd lost, but then I had an
AHA!
Miss Akiyama hadn't picked a Pumpkin Blossom Fairy yet. I had as much chance of getting picked as Rosemary T., even if I didn't go to summer dance camp.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said to Mrs. Taylor. And “It's a deal,” I said to Rosemary T.

Chapter 8
White Mary Janes with Little Heels

I
t turns out that when you move you get very busy going to new doctors and dentists and orthodontists. Finally Erin had a free afternoon, and we got to schedule a playdate. While we waited for her mom to pick us up after school, she told me we had to be a little sly about her possibly wicked stepsisters.

“My mom is tired of answering questions about them,” she said.

“I know all about moms getting sick and tired of talking about things,” I said. “We have two subjects that are strictly off-limits at our house: getting a dog and getting my ears pierced.”

“There's my mom,” said Erin when a periwinkle blue Beetle bug car pulled up to the curb.

“You must be Cinderella,” her mom said.

“Yep.” I held out my hand.

She reached her hand right out the window, and I gave it a good shake, with a good grip, like my dad showed me. Nobody likes a limp-noodle hand.

“This is a very cute car,” I said, making polite conversation.

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“It's also in my favorite color,” I said.

“It's in my favorite color too,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The girls will be wearing periwinkle blue dresses in the wedding.”

“Cool!” I said. “I wish I could see them.”

“You can,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The dresses arrived last week.”

“I tried mine on right away,” said Erin.

“And she looked very cute,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Now we just have to hope that Anna and Julia will look as good.”

My ears perked up because I figured I knew who Anna and Julia were. I also figured, since Mrs. Devlin started it, I could ask a few questions. I pulled the
WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK
out of my backpack
.
“Who are Anna and Julia?”

“They're Erin's soon-to-be stepsisters,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“Those are nice names,” I said.

“They are,” said Mrs. Devlin, but then she didn't say any more.

“I have a sister,” I said, trying to stick to the subject at hand. “Her name is Tess.”

“That's a nice name too,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“If she was a boy she was going to be named Chester,” I said. “That always makes me think of
The
Cricket in Times Square
. And that cricket could be very loud sometimes, like sisters,” I said.

Mrs. Devlin laughed.

I waited a second, but she didn't say anything else. I wrote
Maybe loud
on the
POSSIBLY WICKED
page.

“Here we are,” said Mrs. Devlin.

We jumped out of the car, and she opened up the trunk to get the groceries.

“Your car even has a cute trunk,” I said.

“It's small,” she said. “We'll have to use a bigger car to pick people up from the airport.”

“I see,” I said.

“I bet you girls would like a snack,” she said. “Why don't you show Cinderella your room, and I'll call you when it's ready.”

I followed Erin upstairs. There were different stripes of color on one wall and boxes everywhere. “I'm still unpacking,” she said, “and picking out a paint color.”

“I wish I could change my room color. It's still light yellow from when I was a baby.” I plopped down on her mattress, which was right on the floor, and kicked off my shoes. I opened my notebook. I wrote
Maybe lots of luggage
before I forgot.

She plopped down next to me. “What did you write?”

“I wrote ‘Maybe lots of luggage' on the
POSSIBLY WICKED
page,” I said. “They might be bringing a ton on account of needing a bigger car to pick them up from the airport.

“Luggage is wicked?” she asked.

“Not regular amounts of luggage, but loads of it are,” I said. “Also, your mom didn't say if they're loud or not, so that means they could be.”

“I guess they could,” she said.

“So that goes on the
POSSIBLY WICKED
page.”

Erin scrunched her eyebrows together and got all quiet.

“What's up?” I'd figured out that scrunched eyebrows meant she was thinking hard.

“I'm kind of loud,” she said.

“Me too!” I said kind of loud. Then I got a big idea and so I said a big
AHA!

“‘
AHA!
' what?” she asked.

“
AHA!
You're going to be a stepsister too!” I said. “We should put you in this notebook.”

She scrunched her eyes almost closed and smiled. “Let's start.”

I wrote on the
FOR-SURE WICKED
page:
Erin=Kind of loud.

“Snack's ready!” Mrs. Devlin called.

“BE RIGHT THERE!” Erin yelled at the top of her lungs.

A big bowl of popcorn and glasses of lemonade were waiting on the counter for us.

I tossed a kernel up in the air and caught it in my mouth. “My record is eight in a row. I want to beat the world record, but I'm not sure what it is.”

Erin tossed a kernel up, but it hit her chin. “I'm terrible at this.” She tossed another one up, and it bounced off her cheek.

When the fifth one landed on the floor, Mrs. Devlin said “Erin” very serious.

“If you have a rule about no playing with food,” I said, “I started it.”

“It's not a rule,” said Mrs. Devlin. “I just don't like to waste too many.”

“You don't have the law of three seconds here?” I asked.

“What's the law of three seconds?” asked Erin.

“Scientists studied how fast things that fall on the ground pick up germs,” I said. “If you pick up food before three seconds, it's just fine to eat it.”

“I'll have to think about that one,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Are you going to show Cinderella your dress?”

“Sure!” We ran back upstairs to Erin's room.

Erin opened her closet. There were so many clothes on so many hangers that everything was all squashed together.

“Your closet is packed full to bursting!” I said.

“I collect T-shirts,” said Erin. “They're my favorite thing to wear, but I was afraid it would be too rainy and cold to wear them now.”

“Everyone thinks that about Seattle,” I said. “But it's nice in the fall at least until Halloween. Then it starts to rain.”

“Do you get wet when you trick-or-treat?” asked Erin.

“Sometimes.” I looked through her T-shirts.
“AHA!”
I said.

“‘
AHA!
' what?” Erin asked.

“You have lots of clothes.” I picked up the
WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK
and wrote
Erin=Lots of clothes
on the
FOR-SURE WICKED
page.

“I have an
AHA!
too!” said Erin. “I'm lazy. Look at all this stuff I still have to unpack!”

“‘
AHA!
' is right!” I wrote:
Erin=Lazy
on the
FOR-SURE WICKED
page.

“Here's my dress for the wedding.” She pulled the periwinkle dress out of the closet. It was long and slippery soft and shiny.

“It's very pretty,” I said.

“I guess so,” said Erin. “I don't really like dresses, though, and this goes all the way to the floor. These are the shoes.” They were white Mary Janes with little heels. “I have to be careful not to trip. Want to see Anna's and Julia's?”

“Definitely,” I said.

“Follow me,” said Erin.

“They're in the guest room.”

I followed Erin to the room next door carrying the
WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK.
“The first thing is that the closet is very big,” I said. “So writing ‘Maybe lots of luggage' on their
POSSIBLY WICKED
page was probably right.”

“When I went to Disneyland last year, my mom and I were going to share a suitcase,” said Erin. “We had too much stuff, though, so we each had to bring our own.”

“Good remembering.” I wrote:
Erin=Lots of luggage
on the
FOR-SURE WICKED
page. “The next thing is that that is a very big mirror on that closet door. That probably means they like to stare at themselves a ton.” I wrote:
Mirror-starers
on the stepsisters'
POSSIBLY WICKED
page. “Do you look at yourself a lot?” I asked.

“I'm not sure,” she said.

“I have been lately,” I said, “because I'm trying to learn to raise one of my eyebrows at a time like my mom.”

We both stared in the mirror and made weird faces at each other.

“Cinderella, your mom's here!” called Mrs. Devlin.

“I'll be right there,” I called back. “Start paying attention to if you look in the mirror a lot.”

“Okay,” said Erin.

We headed out of the guest room to the stairs.

“Don't forget your shoes,” said Erin.

“Oops,” I said. “Thanks.”