Sprinkles and Secrets (14 page)

“No, see,” Dennis is saying, “the pirates would bring their cannons and—”

“I know what to do. I'm going to dress up like a cupcake.”

They both turn and look at me like I just said there are no such things as pirates and ninjas.

“What do you mean?” Austen asks. “Frosting is really messy. I think it'd be hard to wash out of your hair.”

“No, not a real cupcake. A pretend cupcake. Can you guys help me? I think we'll need to make a trip to the craft store.”

“What's a craft store?” Dennis asks as he straightens his glasses.

I put my head in my hands while Austen and Dennis laugh over the idea that there are actual stores that sell craft-making supplies.

Boys.

My mom said one time, “Can't live with them, can't live without them.” I'm pretty sure now I know what she meant.

Chapter 23

S
aturday morning, I wake up to rain pounding the roof. In my nightmare, it was Isabel pounding on my window, yelling, “You're the worst friend ever! Worst. Friend. Ever!”

I make myself open my eyes, and I go to my window. The sky is a dark, dark gray and the trees are blowing left, then right, then left again, the
wind whipping them around like puppets.

I plop back on my bed, pull the covers over my head, and decide I will just stay there forever. But eventually, my bladder overrules my decision. As much as I love my bed, I don't love it
that
much.

I run into Mom in the hallway. “Any big plans for today?” she asks.

“I was thinking about staying in bed forever. But since I'm up, could you take me to the craft store later? And give me an advance on my allowance? I have some things I need to pick up. My friends Dennis and Austen are going to help me. Is it okay if they come over here this afternoon?”

“Sure. That's fine.”

I slip past her and use the bathroom, then go back to my room. Mom comes in a little while later with a plate of toast and a cup of orange juice. She takes a seat on the chair that sits by my desk. She's been really great, leaving me alone like I've asked the past few days. I haven't wanted to talk about it. But I guess the time has come.

“I'm assuming you haven't talked to Isabel yet,” she says. “When are you planning on doing that?”

I set the juice on my nightstand. “Mom, she is so mad. She avoided me at school all week like she'd break out with some terrible disease if she even looked at me. I tried writing her notes. I tried talking to her at our locker. She didn't want anything to do with any of it.”

Mom sighs. “You girls are so dramatic, you know that?”

“I'm an actress,” I tell her. “Drama is my specialty.”

“And apparently Isabel's too. Honey, I have faith that you girls will work this out. I think you just have to keep trying. She can't ignore you forever.”

I nod. I hope this plan I have works.

“Mom, do you think Isabel is mad that the commercial is with Beatrice's Brownies? Or is she mad about me not telling her the truth?”

“Have you finished watching that movie your friend loaned you?” she asks.

“Not yet.”

“Well, I don't want to give anything away, but you should finish watching it. And think about what makes Jess and Leslie's friendship so strong. They want to help each other find their true selves. To
celebrate that which is special about each of them. Don't you think Isabel wants that for you, Sophie, just like you want it for her?”

“I don't know,” I tell her.

Mom pats my leg and then gets up to leave. “I think you do.”

Dream #11 –
I dream
my plan will work.

I call Dennis and tell him to be at the craft store at one o'clock. He says he'll call Austen and let him know to meet us there too.

When I get there, Dennis and Austen are waiting for me by a big display of papier-mâché reindeer. They each have two reindeer in their hands.

“So here's our plan,” Austen says in a deep voice with a funny accent. “We wait until Santa isn't looking. Then we grab all of the video games.”

“And comic books,” Dennis says, trying to copy Austen's weird reindeer voice. “Don't forget the comic books.”

“Like you can do that with four hooves,” I say as I take the reindeer away from Dennis and put them back on the display. “Come on. We have some shopping to do.”

I grab a cart and we begin strolling the aisles of the store. Shopping in a craft store is pretty entertaining with two boys. Every aisle, they have something new to say about what they see.

“So this is where cemeteries get all those fake flowers.”

“Was my grandma just here? This place smells like her house.”

“Everything better be half-off, since everything's only half put-together.”

“What's a hot-melt glue gun? Sounds like a torture device for aliens.”

“Boys,” I say. “Focus. Giant cupcake. Remember?”

“Right,” Dennis says. “Hey, I sketched out an idea last night. We need a big, round laundry basket, though. Do you have one at your house?”

“Yeah,” I say, “we do. Why?”

“Think your mom will mind if we cut the bottom out of it?”

Dennis pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and shows me the design. It is perfect. Genius! It's so good, I almost want to kiss him. Almost.

The laundry basket will be the bottom half of the cupcake. We'll wrap it in something to make it look like a cupcake wrapper, then we'll put a whole bunch of fabric on the top, and sort of puff it out somehow, to make it look like lots of frosting. To wear the costume, I'll have to attach straps to the laundry basket. Then I'll step into the basket with my feet, pull it up to my hips, put the straps over my shoulders, and suddenly I'm a walking, talking cupcake.

We go to work filling the shopping cart with the supplies we need. When we go to the cash register, our cart holds three rolls of aluminum foil, a pink fleece blanket, cardboard, some purple and red felt, a roll of pink ribbon, a Styrofoam ball, red spray paint, glue, thick masking tape, and a big poster board.

After I pay for the stuff, Mom is in the parking lot waiting for us, and she helps me put the bags in the trunk of the car. The boys get in the back and I sit up front with my mom.

“You want to tell me what you kids are up to?” Mom asks.

“Sorry, ma'am,” Dennis says. “Top-secret operation.”

“Yes, and our top-secret operation requires a round laundry basket,” Austen says. “We understand you have one. Could we use it, please? We won't be able to give it back, since we have interesting things planned. But don't worry. Nothing illegal.”

I watch as Mom looks in the rearview mirror, smiling. “You want my laundry basket? It's full of laundry, you know.”

“If we do the laundry, can we have the basket?” Dennis asks.

Mom looks at me. “Sophie, I like these boys.”

When we get home, we go into the garage and get to work on what is now called “Operation Cupcake.” Never has making a cupcake been so important.

We have so much fun, and I can't stop laughing. They don't settle for good or okay. If I say, “That looks okay,” they start over and try again. Everything has to be over-the-top, out of this world, amazing. And when the whole thing is done, that's exactly what it is.

The laundry basket is covered in silver foil. The fleece blanket is rolled and puffed out on top of the laundry basket, with a little bit of help from some cardboard. Hearts made out of red and purple felt are glued all over the pink fleece, like pink and red sprinkles. The Styrofoam ball is bright red, and has a stick poking out the top, which Dennis got from our yard. The red ball is glued to a pink ski hat I found in my closet. Yes, the walking, talking cupcake will even have a cherry on top. I decide that tomorrow, when I put Operation Cupcake into play, I'll wear some pink tights and old ballet slippers to complete the look.

After a couple of hours, Mom brings us a plate of homemade ice-cream sandwiches—a scoop of chocolate ice cream between two oatmeal cookies. When she sees me in the costume, she almost drops the plate.

“What do you think?” I ask, twirling around for her.

“I think you are the cutest cupcake I've ever seen!”

I hold up the poster board and show her the sign I've made that I'll carry tomorrow.

BUY A CUPCAKE
AT IT'S RAINING CUPCAKES
AND TELL THEM SOPHIE
SENT YOU!

“Operation Cupcake is complete,” Dennis says.

“Good,” Austen says. “Because my stomach is telling me it's time for Operation Ice-Cream Sandwich.”

I go over to my mom and tell her thanks for the snack. “Operation Cupcake is a great idea,” she tells me.

“I just hope it works, Mom.”

She reaches for my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “It looks like a winning recipe to me.”

Chapter 24

I
t's Sunday afternoon. Time to put Operation Cupcake into action.

Dennis called earlier and gave me a pep talk. It went something like this:

“You have to be the best cupcake that's ever walked the face of the earth.”

“And how exactly do I do that?” I asked him.

“I don't know,” he said. “But something will come to you.”

“Hey, Dennis?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said you were going to get me for bringing up the Power Rangers? Operation Cupcake isn't going to show up in the school newspaper tomorrow, is it?”

“You know, that's not a bad idea.” He paused. “Just kidding. You have nothing to worry about, I promise. I just want things to be better with Isabel.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

He might not have been as motivational as Uncle Pete would have been, but he was all right. And I'm ready to do what I have to do. Mom drops me off around the corner from It's Raining Cupcakes. Before I get out of the car, she says, “Good luck, honey. Remember to speak from your heart.”

If she gives me the chance to speak at all. “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

“What time should I pick you up?” she asks.

“I can walk home.”

She hands me her phone. “Take this, just in case. And don't lose it!”

I slip it into the pocket of the shorts I'm wearing over my tights. I get out of the car, pull the costume and sign out of the backseat, and slip the costume on. Mom waves good-bye and pulls away. I suddenly wish I had asked Dennis to come with me. No, that wouldn't have been right. I have to do this by myself. This is about me and Isabel, and I have to show her I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us.

With my cherry-topped hat in place and the sign in front of me, I begin walking up and down the sidewalk. I do this for probably thirty minutes, back and forth, from one end of the sidewalk to the other. But then I realize I'll have more visibility if I increase the size of the area I'm covering.

So I broaden my path. I go across the street and make a big loop. Around the bookstore, past the post office, past the big park where some kids are playing, and back around to the cupcake shop.

After an hour of doing this, my legs are starting to get tired of walking and my shoulders are sore from
the straps holding up my costume. Still, I'm not ready to give up. I create an even bigger loop. With every route, I make sure that I pass by the cupcake shop at some point.

Cars drive by and honk, and I wave, and soon I notice that traffic has increased a lot in front of the shop, and I see person after person going into the store and coming out with their boxes of cupcakes.

It's working.

People are buying cupcakes!

And so it goes, hour after hour, until every muscle in my body aches and I've waved at so many cars, my arm feels like it's going to fall off.