Prank List (14 page)

“Rachel Roo!” Dad cries, squeezing me so tightly that I almost start coughing. “I can't believe how much I've missed you.”

“I know,” I say into his shoulder. “I missed you, too.”

Finally, he pulls away and I can see tears in the corners of his eyes. “I was so proud of you when you were up there. And second place in the baking competition! Wowee!”

At that moment my mom comes over and wraps me in a hug of her own. “You were wonderful, Rachel.”

I'm practically bursting from all the love. Then I notice that Mr. Hammond is hanging back, as if he doesn't want to intrude on a family moment.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Dad in a low voice.

He and Mom exchange a look before he says, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“So does this mean you're back for good now?”

Before he can answer, Lillian appears next to me, still wearing her Ladybug apron. “Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “Rachel, is this your mother?”

“Oh, yeah. Um, Mom, this is Lillian. She owns Ladybug Cleaners.”

My mom blinks in surprise. She knows the Ladybugs are new in town, but that's about it. She has no idea how involved I've been in their business and why I even know Lillian in the first place.

“It's so nice to meet you,” Lillian says, shaking Mom's hand. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course,” Mom answers. She still looks a little confused, but she follows Lillian to the end of the row, leaving me and Dad alone.

“Look, Roo,” he says. “I'm sorry if I got your hopes up, but—”

“But you're not coming back,” I finish.

He shakes his head and gives me a sad smile. “Ellie just helped me get a job teaching scuba lessons through the resort where she works. Things are finally starting to come together in Florida. I can't give up without giving them a real shot, you know? Even though I wish I wasn't so far away from you.”

I should feel disappointed, but the truth is, I think part of me has been expecting this. I love my dad, but with him, seeing is believing. And even though I'm seeing him right now, it's still hard to believe he's here.

“I wish you weren't so far away, either,” I say.

“You'll just have to come visit! How about next month before school starts? We'd have so much fun.”

It does sound fun, even though leaving Evan behind for part of the summer will be kind of hard. But I have a feeling that he and I will be a lot better at communicating with each other from now on.

As my family and I go to leave, I spot Briana standing with a few other people. One of them is Angela, of course, but I'm surprised when I realize the other two are Caitlin Schubert and Steve Mueller. Funny how I used to have serious butterflies in my stomach every time I saw Steve, and now looking at him does nothing for me.

I'm surprised that Caitlin and Briana are talking normally instead of arguing like they were the last time I saw them. Then Briana motions to Angela, who reaches into her pocket and pulls out something that she hands over to Caitlin.

When Caitlin looks down at the object in her hand, she smiles and I realize that it must be the friendship necklace Angela stole. After a second, she hangs it around her neck and then throws her arms around Briana. The two of them are so busy with their happy reunion that they don't seem to notice when Angela storms off, clearly furious.

As I'm about to turn away, I spot something that makes my mouth sag almost all the way to the floor: Briana turning and giving Whit a smile across the room. And, weirder still, Whit smiling back at her! Marisol and I joked about Whit and Angela being perfect for each other, but maybe Whit and Briana would make more sense. He might be the only guy able to stand up to her, and after all she's been through, Briana might actually appreciate having someone to count on again. Not that I'll ever think she's a wonderful person, but maybe she deserves to be happy, too.

That night, after Dad goes to stay with a friend of his for the night, Marisol and I chat on the phone for an hour, rehashing every up and down of the Bake-Off (which I know she'll be gushing about for months). When we're done going over every detail, I tear up the Prank List and throw it away. Knowing it's gone makes me feel lighter already.

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask Marisol. “Next time I ask you to dump something on someone's car, can you smack me and tell me I'm an idiot?”

She laughs and promises that she will. “So listen,” she says. “I should thank you.”

“For what? Didn't we just agree that I've been a total idiot?”

“True, but you also told me to give my mom and Andrew a chance to get to know each other. And you know what? I think she might be coming around. The three of us went out for ice cream after the Bake-Off, and she seemed to like him.”

“Does this mean he's officially your boyfriend now?” I ask, suddenly giddy.

“Not exactly, but I think we're getting there. I'd say we're a work in progress.”

It's my turn to laugh. “Aren't we all?”

“So tomorrow,” Marisol says, “I think you have to draw part of the mural.”

“Are you kidding? Do you want your room covered with blobby stick figures?”

She laughs. “If they come from you, then yes. I don't want it to be my mural. It should be ours.”

“But you know I'm not an artist!”

“You also said you weren't a model, and you proved yourself wrong, didn't you?”

“Okay, you asked for it,” I say, but I'm smiling. We both know my artistic skills are worse than most monkeys', but the fact that Marisol thinks I can do it is good enough for me. Besides, maybe art is like baking. The more you do it, the better you get at it, especially if you can learn to stop being a stubborn poopy head.

After we hang up, I glance over at the box of things from the attic that is still sitting in the corner of my room where Mom put it weeks ago. I guess I can't put off going through it for much longer.

But I don't think I can deal with doing it alone. So I grab the box and bring it out to the living room where Mom is, shockingly, watching an old episode of
Pastry
Wars
. When she sees me staring, she laughs and says, “I think that Bake-Off today got me hooked!” Then she glances at the box in my arms. “Do you need some help?”

Even though I know she's asking if I need help carrying it—which I don't—I still nod. “I don't think I can go through this stuff by myself.”

Mom's face softens, and she nods as I put the box in the middle of the living room floor.

“Ready?” she says when we're both poised over it.

I nod, even though I'm not sure I am. At least doing this with her is a million times better than doing it by myself.

When we open the box, I expect to feel the same rush of panic and sadness that I did the first time. Instead, it's strangely comforting to see all those old pictures and drawings and report cards.

“I had an interesting conversation earlier,” Mom says as we start sorting everything into piles. “With Lillian at Ladybug Cleaners.”

My stomach drops. With everything that happened today, I forgot about Lillian pulling my mom away after the fashion show. “What did she say?” Did Lillian tell her about all the stuff I did to the Ladybugs? She said she wanted to put everything behind us, but what if she changed her mind?

“Oh nothing much. We just talked about the possibility of merging our cleaning businesses.” Mom laughs at what must be total shock on my face. “I know it's sudden, but she said she got the idea after she spoke with you today. She knew we were looking for more clients, and she's been having a hard time staying on top of working and being a mom, so she suggested we team up. Lee Cleaners would become part of Ladybug Cleaners, and we'd help each other out.”

“What about your business?” I say. “You've always wanted to be your own boss.”

“And I still would be, only with a co-owner. To be honest, I think this could be the perfect solution. I like being my own boss, but I don't think I'm cut out for the stress of doing everything on my own. Plus, Lillian's already been doing this for a few years. She knows how everything runs, and she can teach me a lot. The only thing is…”

“What?”

“Well,” says Mom, brushing her hair off her forehead. “For this to work, I would have to quit my office job. I don't think I'd have time to do both.”

“Really?” I squeal. “That's great!” Then I realize why my mom looks so worried. Her job at the law office is the stable one she's had for years. Thanks to that job, we've always at least had money for food and clothes. Without it, who knows what will happen?

“So before I decide anything, we'll have to sit down and talk this through,” Mom says.

I stare down at the picture I drew when I was a kid, the one with my parents and my imaginary turtle standing in front of our house. When I was little, I thought I'd live here forever, but I also thought that my parents (and my invisible turtle) would never go anywhere. I guess some things have to change, no matter what.

“Mom, I think we should sell the house.”

She drops a stack of report cards and stares at me in surprise. “But you love this place.”

“I know, but I love you more. And I don't want you to have to give up your business because of this house, or to work a million jobs so we can afford to stay here.”

Mom wipes her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“As long as we don't have to live with Aunt Nelly in Connecticut, okay?”

She smiles. “Don't worry about that. I've already started looking at some apartments around here so we can stay in town. I realized that moving away would just make both of us miserable.”

I let out a little whoop of joy and throw my arms around her. “Thank you!”

I'm practically whistling with glee when I go back to cleaning out the box. It barely even seems like a chore anymore.

“We don't have to get rid of any of this if you don't want to,” Mom says when she sees me paging through my fifth-grade yearbook.

“I'm sure most of it can go. But yeah, maybe keeping some of it is a good idea. Like Mr. Hip. I don't think I can ever put him in a box again.” I know I won't lose the memories after we move, not really. But at least bringing some of my old things with me to our new place will help make the transition easier.

“I know you've never been great with change,” Mom says. “Sadly, I think you get that from me.”

I think of my dad, who's often a little too happy to uproot everything and try something totally different. I guess too much change can be a bad thing sometimes, but not enough is bad, too. It makes you terrified of anything being different. Heck, it can even make you terrified of changing how you make cookies. And if I'm going to be a famous pastry chef one day, then those cookies need to be perfect, no matter how much change it takes.

“It's okay,” I tell her. “I think I'm finally figuring out the right amount.”

Hugely enormous thanks to my husband and to my family, to my writer and non-writer friends, to everyone at The Writers' Loft, to Aubrey Poole and the team at Sourcebooks, and to Ammi-Joan Paquette. I can't thank you all enough, but I'll keep trying.

Turn the page for a sneak preview of

The Gossip File

Book 3 in The Dirt Diary series

Available January 2015

Editor's note: The following is unedited and may change in the final book.

“Rachel, how many rocks did you put in this suitcase?” Mom asks as she drags my luggage out of the back of her dented minivan. Evan, my too-cute-for-words boyfriend, rushes over to help ease the ancient bag to the curb in front of the airport terminal.

“Here you go, Booger Crap,” Evan says as he brings the bag to me.

I'm so used to his goofy nickname for me that I don't even roll my eyes this time. Instead, I give a shy smile and say, “Thanks.”

When he grins back at me, his green eyes don't twinkle like they usually do. We're both pretending that my being away for two weeks won't be a big deal, but it stinks that I'm leaving when things are finally good between us. Plus, I think he's been gearing up to kiss me all week. But I guess that will have to wait until I get back from visiting my dad in Florida. I seriously doubt my first kiss is going to happen at the airport in front of my mom.

Oh my goldfish. What if that's what Evan is planning? My mom will
never
let me live that down! My hands are shaking as I grab the suitcase and hurry through the parking garage.

“Wait up!” Mom calls. I hear her and Evan's footsteps behind me, trying to keep up, but I don't slow down until I spot my best friend, Marisol, waiting at the airline check-in.

“Rachel!” she squeals, rushing toward me.

I can't believe how lucky I am that her parents agreed to let her come to Florida with me. If I had to do this trip by myself, no doubt I'd accidentally wind up in Omaha instead of Orlando.

“We're going to have so much fun!” she says.

Marisol's mom stands behind her, looking skeptical about that fact. “I checked the weather report in Florida this morning,” she says. “It's going to be near a hundred degrees.”

Marisol shrugs. “It was ninety here the other day. Besides, that's what air conditioning is for!”

Okay, Florida in the summer might not be ideal, but I've been dreaming of going there ever since my sixth birthday when my dad promised we'd visit Disney World one day. Eight years later, I'm still excited to make that dream come true. Plus, with school starting in a few weeks, it'll be nice to finally get a vacation. I've spent all summer working for my mom's cleaning business, taking pastry classes, and organizing baking competitions (not to mention pulling pranks on people and making a general mess out of everything). It'll be a relief to hang out by the pool, spend some much-needed quality time with my dad, and relax. Who cares if it'll be a little hot?

Evan hangs back while we go check in at the airline counter. After Marisol and her mom are squared away, the ticket agent waves my mom and me forward without even looking up at us.

“What's your destination today?” he drones.

“Omaha,” I blurt out, handing over the flight confirmation my mom gave me.

The man finally glances up at me. “What was that?”

“I mean Orlando,” I say. “Orlando! Where SeaWorld is with all the whales!”

He raises an eyebrow and then looks at my mom. “And who's this?”

“I'm her mother,” Mom jumps in. “I'll be escorting her to the gate, so I believe I'll need a pass to get through security.”

The man takes her driver's license and studies it for a long time. Then he looks at Mom again, and I can tell they're coming, the words that always make my stomach clench into a ball.

“She doesn't look like you,” he says.

“She's my daughter,” Mom says, putting a protective arm around me. “But she looks like her father. He's Korean.”

The man nods, but I can tell he's still not sure about us. Does he think my mom stole me or something? Or that because I don't have blond hair like she does, that means we're trying to sneak her into the airport?

Just when I think my stomach might clench itself into a black hole, the man sighs and grabs my suitcase. Then he hands me an enormous badge that I have to wear around my neck. I realize Marisol has one too. The badges scream “UNACCOMPANIED MINORS FLYING ALONE” which is ridiculous since Marisol is more responsible than most adults I know.

Finally, we get to the security checkpoint. That means it's time to say good-bye to Evan.

As I shuffle over to him, it hits me that I haven't thought this dropping off at the airport plan through. When Evan volunteered to come along, I was excited that he wanted to see me off like a real boyfriend would. I didn't consider the fact that he's going to have to ride all the way back to his house alone with my mom. What on earth will they talk about?

“So,” he says. “I guess you have to go now, huh?”

I nod. “They're going to start boarding soon.”

“Well.” He looks down at his sneakers. “Text me when you land so I know you got there, okay?”

“I will.”

When he glances up at me, I suck in a breath. He has a total “I'm going to kiss you” look on his face. This is really going to happen!

But wait. My mom is
right
there
. Even though she's talking to Marisol's mom and not looking in my direction—probably to give us some privacy—it still feels like her eyes are lasering into me.

Evan takes a step forward, and I start to panic. What do I do?

“If you need something to talk to my mom about on the way home,” I blurt out, “ask her about music from when she was a kid. She won't stop babbling for hours.”

Evan's forehead crinkles. “Okay. Thanks for the tip.”

Gah! Why does this have to be so awkward? Why can't I be brave like Marisol? She'd kiss the guy and be done with it, no matter who was watching.

“Anyway,” he adds. “Have fun. I'll—I'll miss you.”

My face goes hot. “I'll miss you too,” I whisper.

And then I feel it. Evan's face inching toward mine. The scent of peppermint on his breath and the heat off of his skin getting closer and closer. My mind goes blank for a second. I can't believe it. My first kiss is really going to happen…in front of my mom!

Just as Evan's lips are about to brush mine, I jerk my head sideways. All Evan's mouth finds is my ear.

Holy miniature marshmallows. Evan Riley tried to kiss me. And I turned away!

He coughs and steps back. “Um, so have fun,” he says, his face flushing bright pink.

“I—I'm sorry. It's not…with everyone here…”

Why did my stupid head have to flinch? So what if my mom is right there? She's not even watching! This could have been the perfect moment, and I ruined it!

Maybe I can fix it. If I lean in and kiss him, then everything will be okay.
Do it
, I tell myself.

“Rachel!” Mom calls over her shoulder. “It's time to go.”

The moment shatters like a dropped candy cane. Evan and I look at each other for a long second.

“I wish I didn't have to go,” I say softly. “I wish…” If only I could be the kind of person who doesn't care what people think, the kind who does what she wants. But I think that Rachel only exists in an alternate universe where everyone eats cupcakes for breakfast and never has to go to gym class.

“It's okay,” Evan says, reaching out his finger to give my nose an affectionate tap. “Two weeks isn't that long.”

I know he's right, but it still feels like I took our perfect airport good-bye and turned it on its ear. Literally.

I'm still shaking as we go through the security checkpoint. When we get to the gate, my mom pulls me into a hug and starts sobbing into my ear.

“Mom,” I say meekly, trying to think of something comforting to say. I always freeze up when people get really emotional. “Um, at least there aren't any sharks in Orlando, so you don't have to worry about me being a shark attack victim, right?”

She lets out a little laugh and pulls away. “It's not even on the water,” she says, wiping her eyes.

“Exactly. No sharks. So I'll be fine. Will
you
be okay?”

Mom nods as she keeps sniffling. “I'll have plenty to keep me busy with apartment hunting and all the new Ladybug Cleaners clients.” She leans in and kisses the top of my head. “Don't worry about me. Just have fun with your dad.”

I feel bad that Mom is going to be working her buttons off and looking for apartments for us while I'm on vacation, but I couldn't say no when my dad asked me to visit. Besides, it might be months before we actually sell our house, so I doubt Mom will find a new place without me.

“I love you,” I whisper as I give her one last hug. If we draw this out any longer, I'm going to start crying too.

When Mom finally lets me go, I can't help peering back the way we came, even though Evan must be halfway across the airport by now.

I should feel like I'm at the start of an adventure. I should be excited to finally be leaving home and seeing my dad. But I can't help wishing I could have one more minute in my regular
life before I go.