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Authors: Annie Bryant

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“No makeup.” Riley shook his head.

“Dude, no one will even be able to
see
it,” Fabiana assured him, catching on to the problem. “Trust me, I hate wearing makeup too. But when you're under those bright lights, if you don't have makeup you look like a sickly ghost.”


Real
pirates don't wear makeup.” Danny jumped up. “Shiver me timbers, ye swabbies!” Danny brandished his arm about like it was a sword.

Maeve, who had no problem with makeup, jumped right into a whirly chair and sang, “Time to put my face on!” as a brown-haired girl swooped in with a soft puff filled with sparkling powder and gracefully fluffed Maeve's cheeks. “See, Riley!” Maeve explained, “It's fun! You'll feel like a real movie star…. I promise.”

“Well, technically you are!” The brown-haired girl smiled. Maeve liked this girl a lot more than that grouchy blue-haired Corrine.

“So…” Maeve asked as the girl brushed her hair back, “who are the other real stars in this movie? I mean, the story of the
Whydah
totally deserves Hollywood's top talent!”

“There's Lindstrom…” Corrine started.

“Lola Lindstrom!” Maeve nearly fell out of her chair, and Fabiana let out a strange, high-pitched whine.

“Lola Lindstrom,” Corrine repeated in a singsong voice. “Let me give you all a heads-up. That girl is mean as a snake and my advice is to stay away from her…. I mean it,” she cautioned when she saw Maeve's disbelieving face. Lola was one of Maeve's favorite actresses and she didn't believe for one second what Corrine the iceberg was saying.

Zoe (that was the brown-haired girl's name) took advantage of the moment to smear creamy tanned makeup and fake dirt smudges all over Riley's face, which launched starstruck Maeve into a fit of nervous laughter.

“At least it's makeup
dirt
,” he mumbled. “Dirt is okay.”

“Don't you get all wacky over Lola, girls,” Corrine warned. “She's not even supposed to be shooting until the wedding scene tomorrow.”

A Nack-Crow-Nizzem

Isabel shifted back and forth nervously in front of the head of set design, a young man named Patrick, and his assistant, a curly-headed mop top named Poppy. Corrine had kindly dropped off Isabel with them, but hustled away without a word of explanation or an introduction. The two designers were staring at Isabel with expectant expressions on their faces.

A very embarrassed Isabel tried to explain. “Um, I'm Isabel and I thought I could just, well, watch what you do on the set,” she said quietly. “I'm really into art and design and my friends are going to be extras…and I can't act…and, well, I have a passion for color….” Isabel's voice trailed off. She hoped these two “movie types” didn't think she was a total geek.

“We could use an extra hand today,” Poppy said coolly. “Couldn't we, Patrick?”

“Sure. We'll show you around,” a nonchalant Patrick said as if it was no big deal to have some strange twelve-year-old involved in his work.

And soon, instead of sitting in a corner just watching the action, Isabel found herself wandering around a real live movie set, helping touch up the thatched roofs and walls in the village. Patrick even taught her how to turn on a set light—with his help, of course—and how
to adjust the brightness as the clouds and sun changed. She couldn't wait to tell her mother and sister about her lucky day.

“I used to be a lot like you,” Patrick confessed to Isabel as they poured some paint to fill in a crease in the Styrofoam of a wall Black Sam was supposed to burst through.

“Really? You liked art classes too?” she asked.

Patrick chuckled. “Um, no, I was one of those AV geeks. Totally into filming and video editing. But then I majored in film in college and took a lot of classes on set design. Poppy here was the art nerd.”

“That's right, Isabel. My clothes were covered with splotches of paint every day.” He shrugged, and held out one arm. It was already covered with yellow blotches and they'd been painting for only five minutes!

“Me too!” Isabel exclaimed, showing off her own splattered sleeves. Then she took a good look around and observed, “Well, this set looks pretty cool to me.”

Patrick squinted and chewed the end of his pencil. “Eh, there are a couple of elements we need to tweak. Apparently your pal Betsy over there is consulting with the director now on how we can eliminate some of the anachronisms.”

“What's a Nack-Crow-Nizzem?” asked Isabel, who, as a hard-core bird lover, would have noticed if there was a crow called a Nizzem flying around.

Patrick smiled. “Anachronism…um, something that is out of place for a time period. It would be like if there were a movie about Paul Revere and if instead of riding a
horse and shouting ‘The British are coming,' he rode a red convertible and just sent an e-mail.”

Isabel clapped her hands. “I get it!” She made a note to tell Charlotte, who adored fancy words, about that one later. She was also busy making great use of her time with Patrick and Poppy to scratch a few items off the bonus list. She managed to take a picture of a little prop fox in the long grass, and finding something pirate-themed was a piece of cake.

As she snapped a picture of an abandoned pirate hat and cutlass lying in the grass, her friends came running over to show off their costumes. Isabel captured all the ridiculousness with the Cranberry Boggers' team camera. Lastly, Betsy sauntered over looking extremely pleased with herself.

“See that?” She pointed at a bunch of crewmembers breaking down a tepee. “And that?” She gestured to a group of actors getting their long pants hemmed into shorter britches. “All me! Ozmond is thrilled.” She waved to an older man in a pair of bright red golfing pants and a white suit jacket who was presiding over the hemming of the pants and waving a notebook around.

“Ozmond told me to check and see if there are any other things on the set that don't make sense for this period in history,” Betsy proudly shared with everyone.

“They're called anachronisms,” Danny added. Isabel squared her shoulders, happy to have known that. “That's so cool, Betsy!” Danny went on.

Betsy seemed shocked by his response. “Really?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I wish I got to be a consultant.” His voice turned into a hush when he added, “But after that awesome speech you gave, you totally deserve the job!” The corners of Betsy's mouth turned up a bit as she basked in Danny's admiration.

“PLACES!” shouted Ozmond, and the entire notebook went flying out of his hands. A panicked assistant lunged for it, landing face-first in the dust just inches from the Styrofoam wall Isabel and the set designers had just fixed up. The wall quivered slightly as the assistant raised up the rescued notebook.

Ozmond barely seemed to notice. “Cameras roll in five!” He instructed in some kind of weird fakey British accent.

“Oooh! Here we go!” squealed Maeve, and with that the Cranberry Boggers-turned-extras scampered off to their places on the set.

“Ozmond's such a wonderful director.” Betsy sighed and then looked around to see if anyone important was listening. “He has a minuscule budget on this film, you know. That's why he needs extra help on the set,” she whispered conspiratorially to Isabel.

Betsy carried the notebook over to Ozmond, and placed it back in his hand. “Betsy Fitzgerald rides again,” Isabel whispered.

CHAPTER
8
Why Wookiees Can't Surf

W
ith the sun streaming down on their backs, the Beach Barnacles raced down the bike path. By the time they reached Nauset Beach, they were hot, sweaty, and totally wiped out. But Team Barnacle's mood lifted considerably when they saw the sparkling blue ocean stretched out across the horizon before them. To Avery the blue water dotted with sailboats looked like the most inviting thing she'd ever seen…or at least the most inviting thing she had seen today.

“Check out the surfers!” she gushed, staring at the kids gracefully riding the waves down below. “Ooh! I would give my right foot to get on a surfboard right now!”

“Ha!” laughed Yurt. “Without your right foot, you wouldn't get very far.”

Avery smiled. “Come on, Yurt. It's me! I can do
anything….
One foot, two foot, red foot, blue foot…”

“Betcha can't beat me to the water!” Yurt challenged his feisty friend.

“You are on, dude,” Avery retorted as she and Yurt sent up a sandstorm blasting off to the waves, Road Runner–style.

“My dermatologist says salt water isn't good for my complexion,” announced Kiki. “I'm going to go work on my tan.” She swished off to find a clear spot to lie down on the sand. A grinning Yurt decided to give Avery the race and follow Kiki instead.

“I'm pretty sure she has that skin stuff backward,” Chelsea confided to Ben.

“When she's forty, that girl's gonna look like an alligator!” Ben agreed as he slathered on some suntan lotion. “Me, I love salt water. I dig it. I can't get enough, in fact. Ready, Chels?”

He began to run in the direction of the ocean, but stopped when Chelsea shouted, “BEN, WAIT!”

“What? This sand's
hot,
Sis,” he grumbled as he jumped from foot to foot.

Chelsea laughed but her voice was full of urgency. “Ben, it's like, one o'clock already. Don't you think you're forgetting something?”

Ben stared into her face, looking puzzled, then he burst into a smile. “Oh, duh! The reason why I was so excited about coming to this beach in the first place. Blue slush!”

“Ben.” She stamped her foot. “That's not what I meant.”
But her brother was off and running to the snack bar. Left alone on the dune, Chelsea shook her head, convinced that her brother was a 12-year-old boy dressed up in a high school suit.

The Beach Barnacles are turning into scavenger hunt disasters!
Chelsea felt like pitching a fit as she watched all her team members take off down the beach. The adventure that she, Charlotte, and Nick had worked so hard to prepare was spinning out of control.
Am I the only one on this team who even cares about winning this scavenger hunt? s
he asked herself as she continued to huff down the beach.

The worst part was that not only was the hunt falling apart, everyone on her team was wearing a bathing suit underneath their clothes—except her, of course. Even though she had lost weight and worked really hard on getting into better shape, Chelsea still hated bathing suits. She just couldn't help feeling like a whale in a tutu even though Katani had taken her shopping and helped her pick out a flattering green suit with shorts.

When she tried it on, Katani had exclaimed, “Chelsea—you look so…athletic!” Chelsea almost hugged the Queen of Style for that comment. But today she didn't feel like wearing a bathing suit at all, especially with Kiki Underwood sitting around catching rays in the most stylin' two-piece suit she'd ever seen.
Grrr!

Surf Bunnies and Barnacle Blues

Oh, yes! Avery was in luck and impressed. The East Coast surfers were catching some super rad waves. The coolest
surfer was this one blond girl wearing a blue wet suit. Not only did Miss Blue Crush totally dominate those waves—she made it look easy! “Hey, you!” the girl called, running out of the tide. “You got a board?”

“I don't have it with me,” Avery said. “I'm on a school trip, but I love to surf…and skateboard…and snowboard.” She counted on her fingers.

“You're on a school trip to the beach and you are mad for boards? That's too cool.” The girl grinned, offering up a high five. Then she introduced herself.

“I'm September…and I like your style.” September was a bit taller than Avery, but definitely short for her age—just like Avery was.

“Sweeet name!” Avery gave the surfer a thumbs-up.

“Thanks,” laughed September. “I like it too. September's my favorite month…and my birthday month.”

“I love September too!” Avery agreed. “It's when soccer season starts.”

“Down here the water can still be warm in September, all the tourists have left, and we own the beach. Plus, September on the Cape—well, it has super gnarly surfing conditions.” The girl clutched her board and looked away dreamily as if it was September right now and she had just caught the perfect wave.

Then September said the magic words, “You want to borrow a board? I mean, the water's kind of icy today, but I don't mind. Plus I try to spend as much time as possible
above
the water—not in it…if you know what I mean. Not like Chewie over there.”

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Hey, Chew! It's a surfboard, not a diving board, buddy.”

“His name's Chewie?” asked Avery as she tried to control her excitement. “Do I want to borrow a board?…Oh, yeah!” She started digging her foot in the sand to keep from jumping in the air.

“Well, Chewie's real name is Aaron Feldman but we call him Chewbacca 'cause he looks like a big Wookiee.”

As Chewie bobbed up from the water, Avery almost burst out laughing. He had the biggest, craziest fuzzball hair Avery had ever seen…even worse than Henry Yurt's. He really did look like a Wookiee! “Oh, I get it. And what's
your
real name?” she asked.

September gave her a weird look and replied, “September.”

Chewie, the Wookiee, ran in, covered in sand and seaweed, clutching his board. “That was mad harsh, dude.” He held up his hand and the two slapped a high five.

“Hey, Wooks! What's up, fool?” September greeted him. “This is my new pal Avery. She's gonna be a triple threat.”

“Whoa, that's bad!”

“Totally,” Avery agreed.

“Don't you just love surfer lingo?” exclaimed September. “I mean, it's so much fun. ‘Bad' means ‘good,'” she continued. “‘Sick' means ‘right on.'”

“‘Gnarly' means ‘awesome,'” the Wookiee piped up.

“The important question is, will you be able to handle
this puppy?” She grabbed the board out of Chewie's hands and tossed it to Avery.

“Is it okay?” Avery glanced at the hairy kid.

Chewie shrugged. “Yeah, man. Go for it.”

Avery grabbed the board but it was immediately apparent to everyone that it was way too big for her. Her heart sank. The waves were calling.

“Oh.” September made a sad face. Then suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Wook man, go get Snow Bunny's board and wet suit. The Bunny had to go back to work and she's not too much bigger than this munchkin here.”

“Dude, you shred brilliance!” With that, the boy with the giant fuzzball took off and ran toward the snack bar.

September turned out to be as awesome a teacher as she was a surfer. Before they even went in the water, she started giving Avery some helpful tips on catching the waves properly. Avery was a little annoyed with September's “short joke,” but she hung on to the aloha girl's wave wisdom. Avery could surf, but she wasn't an expert just yet.

“The currents can be weird off this beach,” September explained. “You have to catch the wave perfectly or you'll miss it.'”

By the time the Wookiee returned with the board and the wet suit, Avery was practically drooling. The surf was definitely up and the cresting waves were calling her—
Avery, Avery
. When she finished suiting up, she and September raced down to the water with their boards.

“Nauset Beach is famous for its freezing water!”
September shouted as she dove into the waves. “Brace yourself!”

Avery had never surfed on this side of the Cape before. “Yikes!” she yelped as she jumped in. September wasn't kidding about the water—it was like swimming at the North Pole! Her toes felt like they had turned into ice cubes, while her skin that wasn't in the wet suit had morphed into major porcupine mode. But Avery didn't care. In fact, the cold was downright refreshing after her long, hot bike ride.

She and September swam out and treaded water as they waited for the perfect wave. September gave a thumbs-up to the lifeguard who paddled past her. “Hey, Nicky, go save a seal, will you!” she teased. Avery liked this September girl!

“A huge part of this sport is being a great watcher. You need to know the difference between the good waves and the duds. That's Chewie's problem. He always gets way too eager to ride off and he goes for the duds. Then the wave dies and he crashes and burns in front of everyone…and I laugh.” September winked. “But I'm his best friend.”

“Cool.” Avery nodded. She was totally into having guys as friends. Hanging out with Dillon and the Trentinis at home was a blast times seven.

“Hey, let's rock this one,” Avery pointed toward a big swell coming toward them.

September shook her head. “Not with these currents. You wait. By the time it gets here, it will be nonexistent.” Sure enough, the wave peaked just before it got to Avery and September, but it did manage to leave them soaked in its wake.

“Okay, this is our guy,” September said, pointing. “See how small it is. Watch!”

As the wave approached, Avery waited for it to get bigger and bigger, but it still looked like a pathetic little thing. “Are you sure, September?”

September smiled. “Are you questioning the master?”

Avery grinned back. “Of course not, Yoda.”

September laughed but then her face got very serious. “Can you handle this? It's gonna be a long ride.” Avery nodded. September looked over her shoulder and added, “When I say go, paddle like there is no tomorrow, okay?”

Avery was about to say
okay
, when September cried out, “GO!”

Avery used all her arm strength to boost herself onto the board just before the swell hit them. Then the whole thing came together like a jigsaw puzzle. She remembered it all:
balance, position, direction
. The wave wasn't gigantic at all, but it sure was strong. Avery glided down the crest, loving the sensation of speed and power rolled into a thunderous surge of water—it was like the ocean showed up to give her its own personal amusement-park ride.

As they rode, Avery cut back and forth, showing off some of the tricks she had learned with her father. When they surfed all the way into the shore, the kids on the beach offered a ripple of applause. “Whoa, girlfriend, you sure had me going. You're an experienced wave rider!” September exclaimed as they leaped off their boards.

Avery could feel herself glowing. “Thanks! My dad
and brothers and I have been surfing in Hawaii for the past three summers.”

“Hawaii?” September exclaimed. “I would just
die
for a chance to surf the big waves!”

“It's gnarly all right, but this surfing today was better than anything I could have imagined. I mean, who knew a little wave like that could give you such a great ride.”

“Ah, young Aloha-Jedi, remember,” September said, putting her arm around Avery's shoulders. “It's not the size of the wave; it's the motion of the ocean. Never underestimate the small ones.”

Avery pointed her thumb at herself. “Trust me. I never do.”

“Aloha-Jedi! Groovy surf name, little sister!” The Wookiee came running over to give Avery a high five.

“Wanna do it again?” asked September.

Avery nodded eagerly. She could surf all day!
But where were the rest of the Barnacles?
When she looked around, Ben Briggs and Yurt were having a blast splashing around on the shore. They didn't even see her totally rocking the surfboard. That was okay by her. After catching such an awesome wave, Avery felt like the only person in the world…or the ocean, for that matter.

She and September grabbed a few more waves with the Wookman, and Avery didn't even realize that she'd been surfing for an hour until she came up on shore to hear Chelsea yelling at Ben, “This is crazy. The day is flying by and we haven't gotten a single point yet, Ben. Not
one
.”

Avery felt a stab of guilt. She thanked September and
the Wookiee and jogged over to her teammates. “Yo, chill out, Chels. It's all good.”

“All good?” Her voice rose up about ten octaves. “We're going to lose this scavenger hunt and look like the biggest losers in the class.” Chelsea stared at her brother, then at Avery. “This is bad, Avery. Bad.”

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