Mia's Recipe for Disaster (3 page)

And the ideas kept coming. “Oh, what if we used those thin licorice whips to make spider legs?” I said. “See? The round cupcake is the body of the spider. We could stick four legs on each side. Then we could get those little candy eyes they sell and put them where the eyes would go. Or draw them on with icing.”

Katie hugged me. “That is why you are going to win that contest,” she said. “There is nobody out there as creative as you.”

I could feel myself blush. “You're my best friend. You have to say that. But . . . it doesn't mean I don't love hearing it.”

“Well, I agree,” Alexis said. “If you can tap into your creativity, your dress is sure to be a winner.”

Emma nodded. “You're going to do great, Mia.”

I know it might sound a little conceited, but
I agreed with them. I knew I could make a great dress—a winning dress. It's in my blood, thanks to Mom. It's what I was born to do.

I couldn't wait to get started!

Trouble with Katie

I
ended up filling an entire sketchbook with ideas for my fantasy dress. I thought about what my friends liked, and I sketched a superflouncy, pink, flowery dress that Emma would like, and a dress with removable sleeves for Alexis. I still had cupcakes on my mind, and I made a dress with lace spiderwebs all over the front, but that definitely looked like a costume. (Although I know Katie would have loved it.)

But the inspiration for my final dress didn't hit me until I was in the shower one night. I'm not sure why it happened—maybe it was the soothing sound of the water or the warm steam, but suddenly all the confusing thoughts cleared out of my head and I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I was so excited to sketch it out that I didn't even dry my hair! I quickly combed it and then sat down at my desk and got to work. When I was done, I knew it was the right one. I could feel it in my bones.

I put the sketch neatly in a folder and tucked it into my backpack. The next day at school, my hair was frizzy, but I didn't care. I couldn't wait to show the sketch to my friends.

I didn't talk about the sketch at all until lunch. After everyone ate, I made my announcement.

“I have something to show you,” I said. “I finished my sketch for my fantasy dress. Ta-daaaa!”

I took out the sketch from the folder and held it up. I was so proud! The idea I had come up with was sort of a little bit Emma and a little bit Alexis. The main piece was a long, strapless gray evening gown. The design was pretty simple, but I had added a slit on the right side, which would reveal that the dress was lined in pink satin. Then I had designed a short cape that could go with the dress. It was gray on one side and pink on the other.

“It's so pretty!” Emma squealed.

Alexis leaned closer. “So the cape is reversible? I like that. It's like getting two capes in one.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And, Emma, when you walk in it, you'll be able to see the pink lining through the slit.”

“It's gorgeous,” Emma said. “Sophisticated and sweet at the same time. And the pink is subtle, so you have to really look at the dress or watch someone walk in it to see it. Like a little secret.”

“Would you want people to watch you walk the whole night?” Katie joked, but nobody was really paying attention to her. Emma and Alexis were oohing and aahing over the dress, and I was just taking it all in. I felt really great about what I had designed.

Then Katie piped up again. “It's nice,” she said hesitantly. “But I'm not sure if it's contest worthy, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's really pretty, but it's . . . plain. And when I watch that fashion contest show with you on TV, those dresses that win are always complicated and have interesting features. The simple stuff doesn't get much attention. I'm just saying.”

I couldn't help feeling annoyed. Emma and Alexis saw how special the dress was—why couldn't Katie, my best friend?

“It's deceptively simple,” I explained. “The pink lining is going to be satin, which is an extremely
difficult fabric to work with. It's very slippery and bunches up easily, so it takes real talent to line a dress with it smoothly.”

Katie nodded. “I get it. I'm just saying that to win you might need something that looks more . . . spectacular. I don't know. Some sequins, maybe? A big pink bow or shiny ribbons somewhere?”

I sighed. I love Katie, but she doesn't know anything about fashion. She
didn't
get it—that was the whole problem. And I didn't feel like I had to explain myself to her. I mean, I've devoted my whole life to fashion.

“It doesn't
need
any bows or sequins,” I said. Then because I was still feeling annoyed, I added, “And it's kind of funny that you, of all people, have such a strong opinion on this. I mean,
your
biggest fashion decision is usually which T-shirt is clean enough to throw on with your faded jeans.”

I gave a little laugh when I said it, but from the expression on Katie's face, I could tell she didn't think it was funny. I quickly changed the subject and turned to Emma.

“Emma, the contest rules say I have to send a photo of someone wearing my creation,” I told her. “Will you model my dress for me?”

Then I looked at Alexis. She recently grew, like,
three inches overnight (or that's what it seemed like, anyway), and now she has this perfect body for modeling clothes.

“Or you could do it, too, Alexis! A gray gown would look gorgeous with your red hair!”

“Wow, that's flattering,” Alexis said. “But Emma is the real model of the group. She should definitely do it.”

Emma smiled shyly. “I would love to model for you.”

Fortunately, I always carry a measuring tape with me, so I jumped up.

“Stand up, Emma!” I commanded. “I need to take your measurements so I know what size to make the dress.”

Emma giggled. “Mia, we're in the middle of the cafeteria! Did you forget?”

“Nobody will notice,” I said.

“Everybody will notice,” countered Alexis.

“Anyway, I just had my measurements taken for my last modeling job. I'll write them down for you, okay?” Emma asked.

I sat down and slid my sketchbook over to Emma. “Thanks.”

Emma picked up the book and then looked over at Katie. She was extremely focused on a chocolate
pudding cup, jabbing a plastic spoon into it over and over again.

“Katie, what's wrong?” Emma asked.

Katie put down her spoon and looked right at me. “So I guess I'm not pretty enough to model your dress? Well, don't worry. I wouldn't want to wear your boring gray dress, anyway.”

At first, I just got mad that Katie called my dress boring. Then I realized I had asked Emma and Alexis to model, and not Katie. No wonder her feelings got hurt.

I tried to apologize—honestly, I did—but I guess I made it worse.

“Katie, I didn't mean it like that!” I protested. “It's just . . . you're not really into fashion, and of course you're pretty enough, but clothes look better on people who are tall; that's just a fact. And you also need to be graceful, and you know how you are in gym class and everything. You know how George calls you Silly Arms? And you can't have silly arms on the runway. . . .”

Alexis and Emma were waving their arms wildly behind Katie—not because they were goofing on her Silly Arms nickname, but because they wanted me to stop talking. I didn't realize it, though. The whole time I thought I was making it better, I was
just making it worse and worse. Katie's face was as red as an apple.

“Mia, stop,” Alexis said quietly. “Just . . .
stop
.”

But it was too late. Katie stood up, and I saw tears streaming down her face.

She turned and left the cafeteria without another word.

I
felt guilty and angry at the same time.

“She didn't have to get so upset!” I told Emma and Alexis, who were looking at me accusingly.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Emma said in that sweet way of hers. “But you should find her and apologize.”

That just made me angrier. “Me? She's the one who called my dress boring! I never said she wasn't pretty enough to model my dress. Where did she get that from?”

“Well, it was kind of weird you asked us and you didn't ask her,” Alexis pointed out.

“Are you serious? Katie hates fashion! Why would she even want to model?” I asked.

Alexis frowned thoughtfully. “You have a point.”

“But you should still try to make up with her,” Emma added. “She might not have wanted to do it, but that doesn't mean she didn't want to get asked, anyway. And she looked so upset when she left.”

I sighed. “I guess.”

But then the bell rang, and I had to get to my next class. I figured I could talk to Katie before fifth period, when we both have social studies with Mrs. Kratzer.

When I got to class, Katie wouldn't even look up at me. That just made me mad again. If she wouldn't look at me, why would I talk to her? The same thing happened during sixth period science with Ms. Chandar.

The fact that Katie didn't even
look
at me really hurt. But she's my best friend here in Maple Grove, so I figured we could sort it out on the bus. Only when I went out to catch the bus, I saw Katie get into a small red car. I'd seen it before. Sometimes she gets picked up by Joanne, a woman who works at the dentist office run by Katie's mom, Mrs. Brown.

I couldn't believe it. Was this something already planned, or had Katie arranged the ride so she could avoid me? I almost felt like crying myself.

But I couldn't let it get to me. I had a busy weekend ahead of me. Once I got home, I quickly
packed for my weekend at Dad's, and then Mom drove me to the train station.

It only takes about an hour to get from Maple Grove to Manhattan on the train. It goes fast because I put in my earbuds and sketch, and usually, nobody bothers me. Plus, my mom and dad tell me not to talk to anyone, and they each text me about once a minute to make sure I'm okay. Once in a while I'll get an old lady who will act like she doesn't notice my earbuds and will want to strike up a conversation, but today I got lucky, and nobody sat in the seat next to me for the whole ride.

That gave me time to plan out a list of what I needed to do before I got back on the train on Sunday. Alexis would have been proud.

Saturday

9:00: go to fabric shop with Ava

11:00: design class at Parsons

1:00: Dad picks us up and takes us to lunch

Actually, when I wrote it down, it didn't look like much. But those first two things were really important. I had to find just the right fabrics for my dress, and then I had to try to finish the pattern
during class, because I knew I wouldn't get there again for two weeks!