Mia's Baker's Dozen (2 page)

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Authors: Coco Simon

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Works for me!
Alexis texted back at light speed.

Alexis always likes going to Emma's house, and it's not just because she and Emma are best friends. She used to have a crush on Emma's brother Matt. He's pretty cute, but Emma's brother Sam is even cuter.

Alexis texted again.

Everyone come with ideas for the Valentine's cupcakes.

Ugh! I hate that holiday!
Emma complained.

But there's candy!
Katie wrote.

And everything's pink,
I reminded Emma since pink is her favorite color.

K, you have a point. But still. We have to watch all the couples in school make a big deal out of it,
Emma replied.

And watch all the boys go gaga for Sydney,
Alexis chimed in.

Sydney is the president of the Popular Girls Club, and Alexis is right—lots of boys like her.

Any boys who like Sydney have cupcakes for brains,
Katie wrote.

I laughed.

Got to go! Twelve more math problems left!
Emma wrote.

I have 2 go study,
Alexis added.

I thought you were done?
Katie wrote.

This is just for fun
,
Alexis wrote back.

If u want to have fun u can do my homework,
Katie typed.

Or mine,
I added.

LOL! CU tom,
Alexis typed.

I said good night to my friends and put down my phone. I stared at my paper for a few seconds and then I picked up my sketchbook.

My Spanish class isn't until after lunch, so I figured I could finish the essay then. I couldn't concentrate now anyway. Besides, I was dying to finish a sketch I had started earlier.

My mom's a fashion stylist, and she's always taking the train to New York to meet with designers and boutique owners. I guess I take after her because I am totally obsessed with fashion and I love designing my own clothes.
Once in a while, Mom takes me to meetings with her and I get to see all the latest fashions before other people do.

Lately I've been trying to design a winter coat that keeps you warm but isn't all puffy. I hate puffy coats. I thought maybe the coat could be lined with a fabric that kept you warm
and
looked streamlined. Maybe cashmere? But that would be really expensive. Flannel might work; and it would be so cozy, like being wrapped up in your bed's flannel sheets!

I opened up my sketchbook, a new one that my dad gave me. It's got this soft leather cover and really good paper inside that makes my drawings look even better. I picked up a purple pencil and started to finish my sketch of a knee-length wraparound style coat.

There was a knock on my door, and then Mom stepped in.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said. She nodded to the sketchbook. “Done with your homework?”

“Yes,” I lied.

Mom smiled and walked over to look at my sketch. “Very nice,
mija
,” she said. “I like the shape of those sleeves. And purple is a very nice color for a winter coat. Most winter coats are black or brown or tan. They're so boring.”

“Thanks!”
I replied, and she kissed me on the head and left the room. I started to feel a little guilty about lying about my homework, but I pushed the feeling aside. I was definitely going to finish it tomorrow, so no problem, right?

Actually, it
was
a problem . . . a big one.

CHAPTER 2

Señora Is Not Happy

I
know how to say all the colors,” Katie said helpfully. “Red is
rojo
. Blue is
azul
. Yellow is
amarillo
. I'm not so good at pronouncing that one because I can't do that thing with the two
l
'
s.”

It was lunchtime, and I was frantically trying to finish my essay while eating the chicken salad sandwich that Eddie, my stepdad, had made for me.

“Thanks, Katie,” I said. “But I don't think the colors will help. I need future indicative verbs.”

Katie frowned. “That sounds painful. But maybe you could, you know, pad it. Like say the sushi restaurant has red chairs and a blue rug and yellow walls.”

I laughed. “Can you imagine if a restaurant was really decorated like that?”


Rainbow sushi!” Katie exclaimed. “I think it would catch on.”

I sighed. “Anyway, I need verbs.”

Alexis and Emma walked up to the table carrying trays of spaghetti and salad. Alexis nodded at my notebook.

“Cupcake ideas?” she asked.

“I wish,” I replied. “It's my Spanish homework.”

Alexis's green eyes widened in horror. “You mean you didn't finish it?” Most people have nightmares about monsters, but Alexis wakes up screaming if she dreams she hasn't done her homework.

“It's hard!” I complained. “I'm supposed to be writing about when I go see my dad. Now I'm trying to say, ‘We will visit my grandmother.'”

Alexis frowned. “We haven't done a lot of future tense in our French class yet. Spanish must be a lot harder than French.”

I shook my head. “It's because I'm in Advanced Spanish,” I said with a moan. “That's why we're already on this.”

“But you speak Spanish, Mia,” Alexis said. “I've heard you!”

“Yes,” I replied. “But I've never taken a Spanish class. I took French in my old school. And when we
moved here, my mom thought I should get some formal training in Spanish. She told the guidance counselor that I spoke Spanish at home, and they put me in the advanced class. Without even asking me!”

“So it's not easier because you already speak it?” Katie asked.

“No way,” I said. “It's like, when I hear people talking in Spanish, I can understand most of it. And if someone asks me a question, like my
abuela
, I can answer her. But my main language growing up was English.”

I took a sip of my water. “And think about it,” I said. “You learned how to speak English before you could learn how to properly write it, right? You can say to a baby, ‘Show me your nose,' and the baby will point to her nose. But she isn't able to write, ‘My nose is on my face.'”

Katie nodded. “You're right,” she said. “I can see why it's more difficult to learn how to write a language than to speak it.”

I picked up my sandwich, and Katie eyed it. “Did Eddie make you chicken salad again?”

“Uh-huh,” I answered, taking a bite.

“He's a really good cook, isn't he?” she asked.

“His chicken salad's pretty good,” I admitted.

“But believe me, you do not want to eat his Mystery Meat Loaf.”

Katie looked thoughtful. “Maybe he can be my top chef when I open up Katie's Rainbow Restaurant,” she said.

“Ooh, that's a great idea,” Emma said. “You could divide the menu into seven colors, and people could pick one food from each color.”

“That's way too much food,” Alexis objected.

“Well, you wouldn't have to order
all
seven,” Katie pointed out. “You could order three dishes of your favorite color, if you want.”

Did I tell you that my Maple Grove friends are a little bit crazy? They always make me laugh. Maybe “creative” is a better word than “crazy” to describe them. Everybody always has lots of ideas. A rainbow restaurant! Only one of my friends would dream up something like that.

When I look at our lunch table, I sometimes think we are like a rainbow of hair colors. Emma's hair is pale blond, the color most women in Manhattan pay a fortune to try to get. Alexis has gorgeous, curly red hair. Katie's hair is light brown and wavy, and mine is black and really straight.

“We could all be waitresses,” I suggested. “We could each wear a different color uniform.”

“I'll be violet!” Katie cried. She loves purple.

Emma frowned. “There's no pink in a rainbow.”

“You could be red,” Alexis suggested.

“Red is
so
not pink,” Emma protested.

“I'll be red,” I said. Then I took out my sketchbook and started drawing our uniforms.

Before I knew it, the bell rang. Lunch was over, my assignment wasn't done—and I had to go to Spanish class.

“Wish me luck,” I said.

“Everybody forgets their homework at least once,” Katie said, trying to cheer me up. “It'll be okay.”

The problem was, I hadn't forgotten to do it—I just
couldn't
do it. There's a big difference. If you forget to do your homework, it's a one-time thing. But if you don't know how to do it, it's a huge problem. And I didn't expect things to get easier.

I gathered my books together and headed to Señora Delgado's class. The only good thing about that class is that I sit next to Callie, who's pretty nice. She used to be Katie's best friend, but that's kind of a long story. And she hangs out with Sydney and is in the Popular Girls Club. And Sydney doesn't really like me, but that's another long story.

Anyway, I like Callie, and it's nice sitting next to her in class. Especially when things get confusing. She's really helpful.

Callie gave me a smile when I slid into the seat next to her.

“Nice shirt,” she said, admiring my boxy blue knit shirt. I had accessorized it with a necklace one of my mom's designer friends had given me—a silver chain with a chunky silver circle pendant.

“Thanks,” I said. “I like your scarf.” Callie was wearing one of those loopy big infinity scarves in red and black that looked nice with her black sweater.

“Thanks,” she said back.

Callie is into fashion too. That's one of the reasons we get along. But our little mutual admiration session was the highlight of my Spanish class.


Hola, clase
,”
Señora Delgado said when she walked into the room. That means “Hello, class.” In advanced class we're supposed to speak Spanish all the time, which is pretty easy for me. (But since you might not speak Spanish, I'll do all the dialogue in this class in English.)

Señora began by asking us each to say a few sentences about what we did the day before. That's
so we could practice our past tense. I was able to do that okay.

“I did my homework, talked to my friends, and drew in my sketchbook,” I told her, and Señora smiled.

“Perfect pronunciation and accent as usual, Mia,” she said. “Good job.”

But Señora wasn't smiling at me after she asked us to hand in our assignments. I handed it in and held my breath. Señora went through the pile of papers and then frowned.

“Mia, this is only half finished,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “I'm sorry.”

Señora shook her head. “You are getting lazy these days, Mia. This is not acceptable. See me after class. I'm giving you an extra worksheet for homework tonight.”


Yes,
Señora,” I said.

Callie gave me a sympathetic look, and I slunk down in my seat. This was just what I needed. More homework that I didn't understand.

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