On Pins and Needles Page 6

  They met Zoey’s dad in the foyer. He was just putting on his coat. “Oh, hey, guys. Is that the contest dress? Libby, it looks wonderful on you!”

  “Thanks.” Libby smiled at Zoey.

  “So where are you guys going now?”

  “Outside,” Zoey told him. “To take pictures. How about you?” She pointed to The Tie around his neck. “To work? I hope so.”

  He straightened it, grinning. “As a matter of fact, yes. There’s a reception on campus. But I won’t be gone long. I’ll make dinner for you guys when I get back. Spaghetti sound good?”

  They nodded, and he planted a kiss on Zoey’s forehead, then waved a quick good-bye.

  “Does everyone your dad works with have to wear ties like that?” Libby asked.

  Zoey shook her head. “Oh no.” She sighed. “No one but my dad . . .”

  - - - - Chapter 9 - - - -

  Ta-Da!

  Hello! I’m back at the computer after a whirlwind weekend at the sewing machine. It’s funny, though. . . . My dad always says, “It doesn’t seem like work if you really love something,” and I think I finally get what he means.

  Anyhoo, my big news for today is that the contest dress is FINISHED, the pictures have been taken, and I am now officially entered in Avalon Fabrics’ Break-Out Designer contest! I couldn’t have done it without you all, either. Thanks for all your advice and tips! The muslin test dress worked perfectly. (I only wish I hadn’t had to rip it apart. ) And much thanks to Dreamstress for the “start-with-a-new-needle” tip. I so wish I’d known about that before! It was like sewing butter this time. (Not that you’d ever want to do that, of course.)

  Now, for those of you eagle-eyes who are thinking that the sketch above is a little different from my last sketch—you are right! I’ll give you a minute to spot the differences . . . .

  Okay! Time’s up, ready or not!

  Who said ombré? And who said the pockets are gone? Well, when I tried that ombré technique on the bottom part of the dress, those crown-shape pockets just felt like a little too much.

  And who asked, “Sew Zoey, what happened to the hem?”

  Good catch! And the answer? Well, in a nutshell, I decided to get rid of it. You see, my wonderful muse and model, Libby, liked the longer length, and honestly so did I—but there wasn’t enough fabric to keep it that long and finish the bottom, too. But then I remembered these napkins I made with my aunt Lulu and my friend Kate when I was in third grade! We took squares of some leftover fabric Aunt Lulu had, and she sewed a line about a half an inch in from the edge all the way around, then we pulled out all the loose threads running all around all four sides, and it made the nicest fringe—and I basically did the same thing here. Now I just hope the contest judges love it as much as my great aunt loved those napkins we gave her.

  So now my contest entry is in and I guess all there is to do is wait. Oh, and do a set of math problems and answer four questions for social studies about ancient Greece. And then, if I have time, start another quick project. I’d tell you about it, but it’s a surprise!

  Oops.

  Zoey closed her blog and checked the time. Eight o’clock. If she started now, she could whip out a new and much improved ESU tie for her dad, no prob. She only wished she’d thought of it a week ago. After all, she had plenty of purple and gold fabric left, and ties looked easy to make. Zoey was sure she could finish it, along with her homework, before it got too late.

  She started to close her laptop, but decided to check her e-mail first.

  Oh wow!

  There in her in-box was another message from Cecily@CChen!

  Dear Zoey,

  I’m so happy to hear that you’re entering the Avalon contest—and I wish you the very best of luck! I’ve really enjoyed reading about your process and seeing your sketches on your blog. I was also wondering if you remember that mass-market line I was telling you about? The one I’m doing for tweens? Well, it’s done too, I’m excited to say, and so I know exactly how you feel. And since you are the only tween I know—and a style guru to boot—I thought, who better to share it with? Any chance you could take a look and let me know, in your expert opinion, what you think of it?

  A million thanks!

  Your friend in fashion,

  Cecily

  Zoey eagerly opened the attachment to see a whole series of sketches, all drawn by Cecily Chen herself. There was everything! Jeans, jackets, sweaters, party dresses, and casual skirts—all with a distinctive, classic Cecily Chen look. Zoey felt as if she were in some kind of incredible fashion dream, and as she flipped through the sketches, she had to keep reminding herself to relax and breathe.

  Zoey couldn’t wait to write back to the designer as soon as she was done.

  Dear Cecily,

  Thank you so much for sharing your sketches with me! Honestly, I love them all! The sherbet colors are gorgeous and such a great change from last season’s jewel tones. And the boatneck tops! I would totally buy them, and so, I think, would all my friends, who all have VERY different tastes. Really, you seem to have something for every kind of style, which is so cool!, from glitter to denim to that flutter-sleeved shirt that I just know my friend who LOVES anything pink and frilly would ADORE! There’s only one thing I’m not totally crazy about . . . and that’s the cargo pants. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this—and feel free to ignore it totally, please!—but would they look better without all the pockets, by any chance, do you think?

  Thank you, thank you, thank you again! And feel free to send me any designs anytime! Please!

  Your friend in fashion forever!

  Zoey

  PS Oh! And have I said that I loved, loved, loved your book? Loved it.

  Monday was such a big day, but it didn’t start quite the way Zoey had hoped. She would’ve loved to have met Kate on the bus and to tell her all about Cecily Chen’s e-mail and about finishing the dress. And she would have loved to have heard how Kate’s weekend went and about everything she had done. Zoey had never gone so many days without talking to Kate, and she realized she missed her. A lot. But then Kate climbed on the bus and they looked at each other . . . and neither one said a word.

  Kate sat down, alone, in the front again, and that’s how they rode to school.

  Zoey slid to the edge of her seat. Should she talk to Kate? But what could she say? She couldn’t decide, and before long, the bus pulled into the school parking lot and Zoey hadn’t said anything. It was too late.

  At lunch later that day, Priti was back from visiting her family in Canada. She sat down with Zoey at their usual table, eager to hear everything. Zoey almost forgot that Kate wasn’t talking to her, since Priti talked enough for both of them.

  “So what did I miss?” Priti asked as she took a bite. “I read your blog, of course, but that’s just the beginning. Right?”

  Zoey told her how hard she and Libby had worked and about the Sew Zoey labels she’d received from Fashionsista. “And guess what? I got another e-mail from Cecily Chen last night!” she said as Priti’s eyes followed Kate, who had her lunch tray but was walking past their table.

  “Kate!” Priti waved over Zoey’s head. “Where are you going? Get over here!”

  Zoey sighed. She was just about to tell Priti that Kate had started to sit with the girls on her soccer team when she saw Kate smile at Priti and change her course toward them.

  Kate took the other seat next to Priti. “How was your grandparents’ anniversary?” she asked.

  “So many relatives,” Priti told them. “But it was really, really nice. And I got to wear an amazing sari!”

  “Ooh! Do you have pictures?” Zoey asked.

  “Tons!” Priti said. “My phone’s in my locker, but I’ll show you after school. Wait! You were saying you got another e-mail from Cecily Chen last night. What did it say? Oh, hang on! There’s Libby. Hi!” she yelled, cupping her hand around her mouth.

  Libby weaved her way over through the maze of tables and slid in on Zoey’s ot
her side. “Hey, Priti! Welcome back!”

  “So! I hear you’ve been doing more modeling!” said Priti.

  Libby blushed and tugged on her bangs. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. But it was pretty fun. Oh, but guess what I just found out?” She suddenly turned to face Zoey with eyes that said Big news!

  “What?” Zoey asked. She tried, but she couldn’t tell at all if the big news was good . . . or bad.

  “Last night my mom called my aunt and they were talking, and guess what she said.”

  “What? What?” Zoey asked again as Libby drew in a deep breath.

  “My aunt’s one of the judges for the Avalon contest!”

  “Your aunt? Really? No way!” said Zoey. She grinned . . . then frowned. Was that good or bad?

  “I couldn’t believe it either,” said Libby. “I had no idea.”

  “Me either . . .” Zoey glanced across the table at Kate, who was looking at her kind of weird.

  “But then you know what?” Libby went on. “I looked at the website, and her name was right there.”

  “But that’s great! Don’t you think?” said Priti. “Zoey has to win now, right?!”

  Libby frowned and so did Zoey. Kate was sucking her lip.

  “No, of course not,” Zoey said as she turned to Libby. “But it’s . . . okay, isn’t it?” she asked. She’d already sent the picture in, and she didn’t know what she would do if it turned out that she broke some rule . . . .

  Libby nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s okay. I couldn’t enter the contest, but if I’m just in a picture, it’s no big deal.”

  “Phew!” Zoey let out a breath, heavy with relief. “You had me worried for a second.”

  “Sorry,” said Libby.

  It was a little strange for Zoey to come home from school on Monday and not have a huge project waiting for her. There was no reason to rush through her homework or leave her English reading for some other day. Zoey finished her math and did her Spanish and even answered extra-credit questions for good old Mr. Dunn. Then she checked and double-checked the Avalon Fabrics website to make sure her contest entry was received and that there was truly no rule against judges’ relatives modeling clothes . . . .

  After that, while she waited for her dad to get home from work, she finally had time to think about her day. Overall, it had been fine. But in one huge way it had been awful—and it had to do with Kate.

  She’d gotten hopeful when Kate came over and sat at their table for lunch. But Kate still hardly said a word to Zoey, and then she got up and left before they were done. Zoey wondered if Kate wanted to hang out with the girls from her soccer team . . . and all those boys who liked her so much.

  Zoey looked at the clock and realized Dad would be home soon. She put a thin gift box on the hall table so it would be there waiting for him. In the meantime she decided to start a new project. She flipped through her sketchbook and saw the pink dress Libby loved so much. She decided to make it as a thank-you for Libby for her help with the contest. After all, it was a very Libby kind of dress!

  Zoey was busy working on the muslin pattern for the “Libby dress” when she heard her dad come home from work. She ran to greet him.

  “What’s this?” he asked as he put down his keys and picked up the package.

  “Open it!” Zoey said.

  He untied the satin ribbon and let the wrapping paper slip away.

  “Zo, this is great!” he said right away. He held up the tie and turned to the mirror. “Sharp,” he declared with a wink. Then he glanced back at her over his shoulder. “But I thought you weren’t so crazy, Zo, about ESU ties?”

  “I’m not crazy about your old one,” Zoey told him. “Those eagles are crazy. Insane. Purple and gold are perfectly sane, I think—in moderation.”

  Her dad nodded. “I see. Well, I love it! You really made this?”

  Zoey grinned and reached for the tie and turned it over. “See for yourself,” she said.

  On the back, she’d neatly sewn a Sew Zoey label.

  “Nice!” he said with an approving nod. “Very professional. Where’d you get these from?”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” she said. “A whole boxful came to school last week. My blog follower, Fashionsista, sent them! Remember? The one who saved the day at the fashion show.”

  Zoey was beaming . . . but her dad’s smile was fading, faster and faster, until it went flat.

  “What?” she asked as he rubbed his chin. “What’s the problem?” she asked again.

  He sighed. “I have to tell you, Zo, I wasn’t so thrilled when that first package went to your school, but it really did save the day, and so . . . Well, I let it slide. But a second package? I don’t know. It’s just not good, I think, for strangers to find out so much about you from your blog.”

  Zoey couldn’t help groaning. “But, Dad! This is from Fashionsista! She—”

  Her dad held up a finger. “Or he,” he said.

  “Or he. But I really think she is a she. And I swear she is fine,” Zoey told him.

  “Yes, she probably is,” her dad agreed. “But that’s not the case for everyone out there in the world. And you can’t be too careful on the Internet about protecting your privacy, that’s for sure.”

  “Fine,” Zoey said. “You’re right. But it’s not like I post my address or anything. I mean, don’t you trust that I know better than that?”

  “I know,” said her dad, “but I think you could still be a lot more careful.” He paused and seemed to think. “How ’bout this, Zo. Let me go into your blog, okay, and see what should be changed.”

  “What?” Zoey’s lip curled up in horror. She whipped her head from side to side.

  “I won’t rewrite it,” her dad assured her. “I just want to make sure there’s nothing too personal, which is what I really should have been doing the whole time.”

  “But, Dad . . .” Zoey didn’t mean to pout, but there was nothing else to do. “It’s supposed to be personal. Don’t you get that? It’s my blog.”

  “I mean personal information,” he explained. “Stuff that strangers shouldn’t know. If you give me your admin info, I’ll take a look at it all tonight.”

  Zoey’s shoulders sank. Her lip slid out. She hugged her arms across her chest. She knew just how Cinderella felt at midnight when her shimmery ball gown turned to rags.

  “Fine.” She sighed. “But please don’t change too much!” she begged.

  - - - - Chapter 10 - - - -

  On Pins and Needles

  Hola! (That’s “hi!” in case you don’t take Spanish.) Sorry I haven’t been blogging much for the last few days. It turns out my dad thought I was getting too personal or giving away too many details or something. I don’t know how to write without getting personal, and I’m feeling pretty personal today, so this is going to be a short one.

  It’s too soon for any contest news, and I just can’t seem to focus on anything else. As you can see from the sketch I did today, I’m on pins and needles—LOL—literally! But don’t worry, these dresses are imaginary! It’s funny. A few days ago I felt like I was on top of the world, and now it’s like someone yanked the Earth out from under me and I don’t know where I am anymore. Definitely not in the town I live in, which shall not be named.

  Uh-oh! See? Now I’m getting personal, so I guess I better stop. Let me just say thanks again for all your encouragement, and don’t worry. As soon as I hear from the Avalon judges—good or bad—I’ll let you know.

  “Ouch!” Zoey jumped at the pinch on her arm and, wincing, spun around. “What’d you do that for?” she asked Priti, who was standing behind her in the school hallway and clearly enjoying herself.

  “Thought you’d be used to it,” said Priti. “Since you’re a human pincushion and all.”

  “Very funny,” said Zoey. She rubbed her arm. With her foot, she closed her locker door. She grinned. “I guess you read my blog.”

  “Of course,” said Priti. “Wouldn’t miss it. But what’s the no persona
l stuff about? I don’t get it.”

  Zoey shook her head. “My dad.” She groaned. “He wants to make sure strangers don’t know too much about me, so can you believe it”—Zoey still couldn’t—“he’s censoring me now.”

  Priti’s eyes got big. “What?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Zoey replied. She glanced down to make sure she had the right notebooks before she clicked her lock. “He has my admin info and he’s—” She began to go on, just as Priti called, “Hey, Kate!” across the emptying hall.

  Zoey looked up. Her eyes met Kate’s, but just for a second, as she walked up.

  “Hi . . . Priti,” Kate said, flashing their friend a tight smile, hiding all but a line of her movie-star teeth. She started to pause, or at least Zoey thought she did. But then she seemed to think again. “See you later,” she said, very plainly to Priti. “Better hurry or I’ll be late to gym.”

  Zoey, along with Priti, watched Kate walk away. Zoey knew Priti had to be thinking, the same thing.

  “What’s up with you two?” Priti asked her.

  Zoey shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  “Did something happen?” asked Priti. There was a half-panicked look on her face. “Did you guys have a fight or something while I was away?”

  Zoey wanted to laugh. “I wish,” she said honestly. “Then I could say sorry and we could make up. But it’s not me. It’s Kate. It’s like she’s a different person since her braces came off, you know?”

  “Different? What do you mean?” said Priti. “She seems the same to me.”

  “Well, you haven’t been around,” Zoey told her. “But just wait. You’ll start to see. It’s like all of a sudden she’s hanging out with different people. Boys especially.”

  “Ah . . .” Priti arched a fine, dark eyebrow. “Boys like Lorenzo, do you mean?”

  “No.” Zoey frowned.

  Priti smiled a half smile and hugged her books tighter.

  “Well . . .” Zoey reconsidered. “Okay, maybe.”

  “Okay.” Priti nodded. “But I still don’t really know what you’re talking about. Kate’s always hung out with boys, Zo, you know that. At least the ones who play sports.” She put her hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “If it’s not a fight you guys had, then it’s got to be something else. I think you guys should talk, Zo, and sort the whole thing out.”