Beauty (16 page)

“That’s good,” my mom said. “Can I talk to you about something for a minute, Mol?”

“Sure,” I asked absently. I stood on my toes, pretending to reach for something in the way back of the fridge. Then—“Oh no!” I fake-gasped. Pretending to slip, I fell forward, my face landing smack in the center of the cream pie. Carefully, I stood up. My skin was lathered in sticky sweet cream.

“Molly!” my mom exclaimed. “Are you all right?” I turned around. My mom’s hand flew to her mouth, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I said with a loud sigh. “Just slipped.” I threw my hands up in the air. “Typical Molly.”

My mom shook her head. “Oh, sweetheart,” she repeated, in her old familiar what-are-we-going-to-do-with-you? way.

“What were you saying?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, but why don’t you go wash up first?”

“That’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’ll just do it after.”

My mom gave me a strange look, but, with a shrug, sat down at the table. I sat down across from her. “Molly, I have to go up to Cleveland this weekend, to look at a property there.”

A dollop of cream dripped down onto my lip. “Okay,” I said, licking it off.

“And,” my mom continued, “your dad would like to come with me. He’s been working so hard, and he finally has a few days off before his case picks up again, and we thought, why not make a vacation out of it?” I nodded. Several more drops of cream dripped onto my lips. Was the mask melting? My mom raised her eyebrows at me. “Would you like a towel, Molly?”

I stood up abruptly, shaking my head. “No, I’m good,” I said in my most cheerful voice. Opening up the freezer, I stuck my head in, pretending to look for something.
Come on
, I thought desperately,
harden back up, cream!
Out loud, I said, “So you were saying you want to make a vacation out of it?”

“That’s what we were thinking. But only if you’re comfortable staying home alone. Seth would stay at Matty’s, so you’d be by yourself. From Friday night until Monday night. Are you up for that? Or should we try to set something up with Kemper’s family?”

Forgetting about the melting cream, I whirled around to face my mom. “No!” I burst out. “I mean yes!” My mom raised her eyebrows at me. “I mean no to Kemper’s, and yes I’m up for it. Definitely. As long as you think it’s a good idea,” I added hastily, not wanting to sound too desperate.

“Well, I do think you’re old enough,” my mom said slowly.

“I am,” I agreed. “I’ll make my own meals. I’ll do my own laundry. I’ll clean up around the house. I’ll even, uh, mow the lawn for you guys!” My mom gave me a strange look, and I bit down on my lip, worried I’d taken it too far. I was pretty sure I’d never in my life offered to mow the lawn. I actually didn’t even think I knew how to turn the lawn mower
on
.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Okay,” she said finally. “I think you’re ready. Plus, Kemper’s parents are nearby if you need anything.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. I stuck my head back in the freezer, my shoulders loosening at the thought of three whole days at home without hiding my face. If I still looked like this when they got back, I would tell them the truth then, I promised myself.

“Are you hot or something, Mol?” I heard my mom ask from behind me.

“Oh no, just … uh, trying to decide on an ice cream flavor.”

“There’s only one in there,” my mom said, sounding a little worried. “The only one we ever have. Mint chocolate chip.”

“Right. Of course. I know,” I floundered. “I was just trying to decide if I wanted it … with the chips, or, uh, without. You know, I could always take the chips out.” I cringed. What was I even
talking
about?

“You can?” my mom asked dubiously. I turned around, flashing her a big smile.

“I think I’ll just skip the ice cream for now,” I said.

My mom gave me a strange look. “You sure everything’s okay, Molly?”

“Better than okay,” I assured her, trying my best to look completely normal with a thick layer of cream on my face.

“You know, something does seem different about you today… .” My mom looked at me thoughtfully. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something… .” My breath caught in my throat, and I quickly looked away, shifting nervously in place. Had the cream melted so much that she’d gotten a glimpse of my face? Or, could she still tell, even with it on? Did she know my face that well? “I know,” she said, snapping her fingers. “It’s your outfit. When did you get it?”

I breathed out a sigh—though whether it was from relief or disappointment, I wasn’t so sure. “It’s from when I went to the mall with Hayley.”

My mom nodded admiringly. “It’s nice,” she said. “But was it expensive, sweetheart?”

“Not really.” I looked down. “There was, uh, a big sale.” I felt weird lying to my mom, especially about money, but what else was I supposed to say?
The salesgirl at Haute gave it to me for free, now that I’m miraculously, unbelievably drop-dead gorgeous
?

“Good.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to think you spent all your hard-earned money on one outfit.”

“Nope.” I started backing out of the room, signaling at my face, which I clearly needed to wash. “I barely spent anything at all.” My mom smiled proudly at me, and I smiled uneasily back.
That
, at least, was the truth.

One Hudson Please, with a Cherry on Top

“WOW. QUITE A shirt,” Kemper said when I met her outside to ride over to Scoop together. She was eying the thin teal sweater I’d just changed into. It was a little tighter than the shirts I usually wore, but according to Renee, “It was
made
for me.”

“Too much?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Maybe I should have left the tight sweaters to Ashley. “Should I go change?”

“No,” Kemper said quickly. “It’s fine. Just, I don’t know … different.”

Pulling at the sweater a little, I climbed onto my bike and we both took off pedaling down the street. “So,” Kemper said. “Have fun at lunch today?”

“It was amazing,” I admitted. Not only had Hudson laughed at every joke I made, but every time he reached for his soda, his arm had brushed lightly against mine.

“Amazing?” A strange look crossed Kemper’s face. “Wow. Well, I’m glad you didn’t get stuck sitting with me then. Probably wouldn’t have been nearly as
amazing
.”

I looked over at Kemper in surprise, making my bike swerve a little. “You know it wasn’t like that, Kemp,” I said, quickly straightening out my handlebars. “I was trying to get you to come over! Remember? Me waving my arms through the air like a maniac? There was plenty of room on my chair for your tiny little butt.”

Kemper gave me a reluctant half-smile. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Okay. I guess I just freaked when I saw Ashley call Josh over.” She fiddled with the old red horn on her bike, and it let out a squeaky beep. “Do you think she likes him?”

I thought about how Ashley had refused to tell me and Blair who the new guy she liked was. Could it be
Josh
? “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But it doesn’t matter even if she does,” I added, grinning over at her. “Ashley might be pretty, but she’s got nothing on you.”

“Right,” Kemper snorted. She pedaled harder and I picked up my pace to keep up. “Just like she had nothing on you before your little makeover?”

I sucked in a breath. Kemper shook her head, making her short blonde hair whip from side to side. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, Mol.”

“No.” I was pedaling at full speed now to keep up with Kemper. “You’re right.” Before my transformation, Hudson had looked right through me to get to Ashley. But Kemper wasn’t like me. I’d been invisible. She stood out more than anyone I knew. “But Josh would be crazy not to like you, Kemp. Like Charlie Sheen crazy.” Kemper was silent, but I could see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Kim Kardashian crazy,” I went on, encouraged. Kemper gave a tiny laugh. “Britney Spears
head shaving
crazy.”

Now Kemper was laughing for real. “Mel Gibson crazy,” she offered.

“Lindsay Lohan crazy.”

“Michael Jackson dangling baby crazy.”

“Mr. G crazy.”

That sent us both into hysterics. I was laughing so hard I could barely see, and I had to pull my bike over before I crashed into someone’s mailbox.

“Hi, Molly!” Michelle Allon, one of the moms I babysat for sometimes, waved to me from across the street, where she was busy planting tulips in her yard. She stood up, pulling off her gardening gloves. “Don’t you look nice tonight? I swear, you girls grow up so much at this age. It’s like you’re changing every single day!”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I whispered under my breath, making Kemper laugh even harder. But to Mrs. Allon, I just called out, “Thank you!”

Once Kemper’s and my laughter finally died down, we took off on our bikes again. “So Hayley got a ride, I’m assuming?” Kemper asked as we crossed over Melburne Ave.

“Yeah. I think her mom drove her.”

“Of course.” Kemper shook her head ruefully. “God forbid she be seen riding a bike with us.”

I kept quiet as we reached the row of colorful store awnings that Miracle’s Main Street was known for. There was Miss Daffy’s Garden and Home Store with its bright yellow awning; Tops Tools and Hardware with its dark green awning; and the Pizza Palace with its tomato red awning. Up ahead I could see Scoop, with its cotton candy pink awning. I picked at an old sticker on my bike as we rode to it.

The thing was, I didn’t know how I felt about Hayley anymore. I knew Kemper was still pissed about what happened at the fair, and a part of me was too. But another part—maybe even a bigger one—just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, when the three of us had been a package deal. Hayley had been acting so weird this past month, almost like she was tired of me and Kemper. It had felt good these past few days, having her want to be around me again.

“She does seem happier to be hanging out with us lately, though,” I said as we pulled our bikes over in front of Scoop.

Kemper shot me a look. “By happier, do you mean crazier?”

I laughed. “It’s true she has been bedazzling a lot of things… .”

We locked our bikes onto one of Main Street’s bike racks. “What I want to know is how she hasn’t turned into one giant pruny raisin yet. I mean, what diet tells you to
only
eat raisins?”

“I know,” I said with a laugh. “Where does she come up with this stuff?”

“God only knows.” Kemper glanced toward Scoop’s window. The blinds were half-lowered to block out the strong setting sun, but you could still make out a long line winding out from the counter. I tried to look for Hudson, but with only legs to go on, it was hard to tell who anyone was.

“Ready?” I asked.

Kemper took a deep breath, looking nervous all of a sudden. “More ready than I am for my math test tomorrow,” she offered.

“Wow, such enthusiasm.”

“Hey, Molly,” Tom Marshall cut in, pausing next to us as he headed toward Scoop.

“Hey, Tom,” I replied. Kemper furrowed her brow at me, and I knew exactly what she was thinking:
How many new friends do you have?

That’d be 123
, I thought to myself.

“See you in there?” Tom asked with a friendly smile.

“Sure.” I smiled back. As he headed into Scoop, I reached up to rub at my jaw. It was starting to ache from all the smiling I’d been doing these past three days. Who knew smiling could be such a nonstop face workout?

“Come on,” I told Kemper. “Let’s do this. You’ve got a boy in there to see.” Hooking my arm through hers, I led the way through Scoop’s pink-and-white-striped door.

“Whoa,” Kemper murmured as we stepped inside.

“Whoa,” I echoed. Scoop wasn’t just crowded, it was
packed
. And it wasn’t just with Ashley and Hudson’s crew, either.

“Hey, Molly, Kemper!” Karen called out from over by the counter. Pushing her way through the crowd, she made her way over to us, Ali and Theresa trailing behind her.

A second later Mark McCafferty joined us with a whole slew of AV club-ers. “Hey guys,” he said, his face pink with excitement. “How much does this place rock on a Wednesday? Thanks for the invite, Molly.” I glanced over at Karen, who had clearly spread the word of my invitation.

“Yeah, thanks, Molly,” she said, smiling brightly. “We got some seats at the corner. You want to come hang out?”

Before I could answer, Zach Martin yelled over from the back of the restaurant, where he was sitting with a bunch of basketball players. “Molly, over here!”

On the other side of the room, Ashley signaled to me from a corner booth. “We saved you a seat, Molly!”

“Mol!” Hayley swooped in, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing tight. I caught a strong whiff of her favorite strawberry perfume. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I just tried Scoop’s new skinny chic yogurt. Only a hundred calories per cup! You have to come taste it. It’s
très
yum. I left it at Ashley’s table.” Hayley was wearing a white sweater I recognized—newly bedazzled with a big pink flower. I noticed that even more braids had popped up in her hair. They covered half her head now, tied at the bottom with tiny pink rubber bands.