Cut from the Same Cloth Page 7

  “We missed you, Zoey!” said Libby.

  “So much,” Kate agreed. “School felt empty without you. And we watched the Paris episode together, and saw you win, and we couldn’t even congratulate you in person!”

  “I can’t believe you WON, Zoey!” Priti squealed. “You’re going to win the whole thing! I know it!”

  Zoey beamed. “Thanks, but I probably won’t. Everyone is so talented, you guys. It’s amazing. I finally understand the saying ‘a little fish in a big pond.’ ”

  “You’re a big fish no matter where you go,” Libby insisted. “Ezra’s good-luck charm must have brought you extra-special luck!”

  Zoey slapped her forehead. Her phone had buzzed with a message from Ezra that morning, but she’d forgotten to read it because she’d been packing up for school and hurrying to get out the door. “Yikes! I got text from him earlier. Lemme check it. . . .”

  Hey, fashion superstar! Will u be too busy with reporters this week to come over and watch a movie or play some video games?

  Zoey read it aloud to her friends. Libby oohed and aahed. “Write back!” she said. “Tell him you’d love to!”

  Zoey hesitated. It seemed harsh, but she’d hardly thought about Ezra while she’d been gone—even with his good-luck charm on her bracelet! And while she appreciated his company, she had schoolwork to catch up on, and she wanted to spend time with her besties, her dad, Marcus, and Aunt Lulu and Uncle John. She wasn’t sure she was willing to sacrifice any of her time with them to see Ezra, especially when she’d be off to Japan in less than two weeks.

  Zoey glanced at Kate, who again seemed to understand without a word what Zoey was thinking.

  “Maybe answer him later?” Kate suggested. “It’s hard for you to think when we’re all standing here staring at you.”

  Zoey slid her phone into her pocket. “Good idea,” she said. “I’m going to send him a text and explain how crazy things are, and hopefully, he’ll understand. But right now I want to give you guys your gifts, because the bell’s going to ring any minute!”

  She unzipped her bag and pulled out three small packages.

  Priti, looking pleased, unwrapped hers the fastest. “Oh, Zoey,” she said as she pulled out a bracelet with a tiny Eiffel Tower charm on it. “I love it!”

  “Me too!” cried Libby, examining hers. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris, and now I can pretend I have!”

  The girls put on their bracelets, and Zoey held up her wrist. Her own charm bracelet had a newly added Eiffel Tower charm.

  “Très chic,” Priti said, giggling at her own joke.

  Zoey and Kate chuckled too, but Libby was all business. “So, Zoey,” she began, “we’re dying to know what happened in Milan! Did you win? We won’t tell, promise!”

  Zoey sighed. “I’d love to tell you everything, but they made me sign something promising I wouldn’t. All I can say is that since Sean and I are going to Japan, you can tell that we didn’t get voted off.”

  Libby smiled. “That’s something! Cool!”

  The bell rang, and the girls began to walk down the hallway together toward their homerooms. Kids continued to congratulate Zoey, who couldn’t help thinking that as soon as the Milan episode aired in a few days, they’d be less enthusiastic.

  Noticing her silence, Priti asked, “Is it good to be home, Zoey? Or are you sad?”

  “It’s not good to be home,” said Zoey. “It’s great.”

  At lunch Zoey sat with her friends, still reveling in the normalcy of being at school. She enjoyed her grilled cheese sandwich and fries, as well as the noise of the crowded cafeteria. She especially enjoyed not being on camera. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been during the filming.

  As the girls were catching up on gossip, Gabe appeared and plopped down next to Zoey.

  “Hey, Zo! Congrats on the Paris challenge. How does it feel to be an international star?”

  Zoey laughed. She definitely didn’t feel like an international star after the Milan challenge. “I got lucky with a good idea,” she said.

  “It was more than luck,” Gabe insisted, his brown eyes sincere. “And I still want to capture your rise to fame for the school newspaper. They want me to include an article now too. Can I ask you a few questions?”

  Zoey felt both flattered and overwhelmed by the idea, but she agreed.

  “Okay,” she said gamely. “I can’t reveal results, but I can tell you about all the amazing food I ate and shopping I did. Oh, and the cathedrals. There were so many cathedrals!”

  As Gabe wrote down some notes and took a few pictures, Zoey felt more relaxed. It was more like a conversation than an interview, and Gabe fit right in with her group of friends, almost like he’d always been a part of it.

  After school Zoey sat cross-legged on her couch, doing homework. She couldn’t believe how hard it was to make up a week of school. With a sigh, she put her papers down and got up to make a snack.

  On her way to the kitchen, she noticed a new picture on the mantel in front of the Webber family photo from when Zoey was a baby. It was of her dad and Ms. Austen, holding hands at the beach. The Webbers lived more than an hour from the coast, and Zoey hadn’t realized they had gone to the shore together. It felt like she was seeing some secret part of their relationship that her dad had never mentioned to her.

  Scowling, she continued into the kitchen. On the fridge, she found another picture of the happy couple, this one in a plastic magnetic frame. They were at the stadium at the university where her father worked. Part of her dad’s job was to be on call during sporting events, and it made sense that Ms. Austen would attend some of the games, but Zoey hadn’t really thought about it before. Zoey wondered suddenly just how much time they spent together.

  As she opened the fridge to hunt for leftovers, Marcus walked in. “Hey, Zo!” he said. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have you home.”

  “Ha-ha,” she said. “I’d almost forgotten how not funny you are.”

  “Oooh, someone’s prickly,” he replied, joining her in the front of the fridge. “What’s eating you? Get it?”

  Zoey usually loved her brother’s jokes, but today she wasn’t in the mood. “While I was gone, Dad put out all these pictures of him and Ms. Austen. And they’re so . . . so, well, personal.”

  She shut the fridge door, so he could see the plastic frame on the front.

  Marcus eyed the photo curiously. “Personal? They’re at a soccer game. In a stadium.”

  Zoey groaned. “Never mind.”

  “No, not never mind. Talk.”

  Zoey tried to find the words to explain how she felt. “It’s just . . . she was here for dinner last night when I’d just gotten home, and she’s hanging around dad’s work, apparently, and now photos of her and dad are all over the house. It’s like she’s trying to replace Mom or something.”

  Marcus looked thoughtful. “Well, Mom and Essie do have a lot in common, you know.”

  “No, they don’t!” Zoey snapped. “Mom was amazing and unique and creative.”

  Marcus grabbed the peanut butter and bread and moved to the counter to make a sandwich. “Yeah, she was. And Essie is too, and she cares about Dad and us a lot. She’s not so bad, you know.”

  “I know, Marcus. I knew her first! She’s my principal!” Zoey turned without getting a snack and stormed off back into the living room to her pile of work. She’d lost her appetite.

  “I think you’re just cranky because you’re seriously jet-lagged, Zoey. Maybe you need a nap!” Marcus yelled after her.

  Zoey flopped down on the couch, too irritable to study. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Maybe Marcus was right. But while she’d been away, it was like Ms. Austen had taken the opportunity to practically move right in.

  A little while later Zoey heard her father’s car in the driveway. When he walked in alone, Zoey sighed with relief. She wanted to have dinner with just him and Marcus that night.

  As her dad began chopping c
hicken and vegetables to make a stir-fry, Zoey wandered into the kitchen. “Can I help?” she asked.

  Mr. Webber smiled. “Music to my ears. Set the table, please, and pour some water.”

  Zoey got out three place settings.

  “Four places, Zoey,” he said, correcting her. “Essie’ll be here any minute.”

  Zoey’s stomach lurched. Before she could protest, she heard a double-knock, and then the front door opening. “Hello, Webbers!” Ms. Austen called.

  Zoey barely had time to take a breath and wipe the frown from her face before Ms. Austen was in the kitchen.

  “Hi, Zoey!” she said. “I can’t tell you how many compliments I got on this scarf today. Thank you so much! You know my taste exactly.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” replied Zoey, somewhat listlessly. She started to fold the napkins into little shapes, to keep her hands busy.

  “Everyone at school was talking about you today,” Ms. Austen went on. “The teachers, the students—everyone.”

  Mr. Webber nodded. “People at work keep telling me they saw you win, Zo, and I get to say, ‘Yep, that’s my daughter!’ We’re so proud of you, honey.”

  “Thank you,” Zoey said automatically, still thinking about how when her dad said “we’re,” he had put his arm around Ms. Austen.

  “Now that you’re back, Zoey,” Ms. Austen said as she helped Zoey’s dad dole out stir-fry, “I’d love to have a girls’ outing so I can hear more about your trip. I went to Europe when I was in college, and it was the best time of my life! Maybe we could go shopping or to tea? Or I could take you to the fabric store? I’d love to see where you get the materials to work your magic.”

  Zoey was silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Ms. Austen or shopping or tea. It was just . . . annoying. Not only was Ms. Austen there all the time, but even when she wasn’t there, her picture was on the fridge and on the mantel, and Zoey wanted a break. Plus, she really didn’t want to be seen in public with the school principal. Even if people didn’t figure out that it meant Ms. Austen and Zoey’s dad were dating, they’d probably start calling Zoey the principal’s pet. And she had enough to worry about with the next challenge around the corner.

  “Um, I think I’m going to have to stay really focused on schoolwork this week,” Zoey said. After a second she added, “But thanks.”

  Her father looked at her sharply, and then he called, “Marcus! Dinner!”

  They all sat down, and Zoey tried to be pleasant while they ate. She knew her father wasn’t happy she’d turned down Ms. Austen’s invitation.

  Luckily, Marcus was unusually chatty, talking about a gig he’d lined up for his band and a potential summer job he’d gotten as a music counselor at a camp nearby.

  Zoey noticed Ms. Austen watching her during the meal, and she did her best to act normally. But inside, she was counting the seconds until she could run up to her room and hide.

  Later, as Zoey was sitting on her bed, finishing up yet another page of math problems, there was a knock on her door.

  “Come in,” she called, hoping it was Marcus.

  It was her father, looking rather uneasy.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “You tell me,” he said, sitting down on her bed. “I know you just had the trip of a lifetime, and you’re a big TV star now, but can you please explain why you were so rude to Essie this evening? She’s gone home, by the way, so speak freely.”

  Zoey sighed. Her dad had it all wrong. “It’s not about being a star, or whatever, Dad,” she said. “I’d just like to have dinner alone with you and Marcus for once. Didn’t you guys see each other enough while I was gone? I see Ms. Austen at school every day, and in our kitchen almost every night, too! I need some space, that’s all. And what if someone catches on when they see us together?”

  Her dad was quiet. He didn’t look angry or even hurt. Just thoughtful. “You know,” he said after a minute. “Me dating someone special is still very new for you and Marcus. And I get that it’s difficult, especially for you, since you knew Essie before this. I thought it might be easier since you seemed to get along so well with her at school, but it’s normal for there to be some growing pains.”

  Zoey couldn’t help cracking a small smile. “ ‘Growing pains’?”

  “Well, that’s what we called it in my day,” he said. “Now people call it ‘being a teenager.’ On top of all this, you’re just on the cusp of a lot of changes in your life, and I think you’re going to be glad to have Essie around, once you get used to the idea. But you need to give her a chance, Zoey.”

  Zoey wanted to say that it had nothing to do with her becoming a teenager, but held back. “She’s trying to be my best friend, Dad. It’s weird.”

  “She’s not, Zoey. She’s just trying to figure out how to be part of your life outside of school. You guys are actually so similar—‘cut from the same cloth,’ as they say. If you can take a step back, I think you’d remember that.”

  Zoey thought about how much she used to enjoy going to Ms. Austen’s office to talk about her blog and her Etsy site. And how she’d always admired Ms. Austen’s fashion sense and how it was Ms. Austen who had abolished uniforms at Mapleton Prep, which had really kick-started Zoey’s interest in sewing.

  “I could try a little harder,” Zoey admitted. “But I’m not quite ready for us to be a family, okay?”

  “I understand, Zo,” said her dad. “And, please, don’t feel like you can’t talk to me about all this. No matter what, you will always be my number-one girl, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, letting her dad wrap her in his arms.

  After her father left, she picked up her sketchbook instead of her math sheet. She was still frustrated by the Ms. Austen invasion, but at least her dad seemed to get it. Zoey wasn’t sure being a teenager had anything to do with it, but for some reason, that made her feel like less of a jerk.

  CHAPTER 10

  Home Again, Home Again

  Remember that nursery rhyme, “To market, to market to buy a fat pig? Home again, home again” and so on? Well, I’m enjoying being home (except for the homework), and I’m also trying to help my aunt get ready for her soon-to-be-born baby by making this receiving outfit with a nursery-rhyme fabric!

  Anyway, I’ve been sketching a lot since I’ve been home, but I haven’t sewn any outfits other than this one. My fingers still feel cramped up from sewing for the Milan challenge! It’s going to air in two days, and I’m nerrrrrrrvous to watch myself, because I know how much I was sweating to get everything done!

  I’m off to visit my aunt and her baby bump today, and I can’t wait to see how much bigger she’s gotten! (Sorry, Aunt L! I mean that in the nicest way!) Is there anything harder than waiting for a baby to be born? Especially a little cousin you’ve wanted forever?

  Saturday morning, Marcus dropped Zoey off at their aunt’s house. When Zoey knocked, she was surprised to hear a faint “Come in!” from somewhere inside the house instead of having her aunt answering the door.

  “Aunt Lulu?” Zoey called, opening the door and stepping inside. Buttons, Lulu’s dog, came running up enthusiastically, covering Zoey with doggie kisses. “Where are you?”

  “The kitchen,” Lulu replied.

  Zoey found Lulu sitting in a straight-backed kitchen chair, sipping a large glass of water with lemon.

  “Are you okay?” Zoey asked, concerned. Lulu looked not just pregnant but puffy. Her face, her hands, and her massive belly, all made her look like a hot-air balloon version of herself.

  “Perfectly fine,” Lulu answered, smiling. “Just very pregnant. I can’t sit on the sofa, because I sink down and can’t get back up, and hurrying to answer the door is not an option. And I’m keeping my feet propped up to help my swollen ankles. So things are a bit more casual around here now.”

  Zoey laughed, glad to see that Aunt Lulu’s sense of humor was exactly the same as it had always been.

  “I made some cof
fee cake for us. How about you slice it up, get us some iced tea, and tell me every last thing about your trip, all right?”

  Zoey agreed, happy to wait on them and let Lulu sit. Once they had their treats, Zoey launched into a play-by-play of her time in France and Italy, and Lulu listened, spellbound.

  “Can’t you just tell me the results from Milan, Zoey?”

  Zoey shook her head. “I can’t tell anyone!”

  “Well, I’m impressed that you can keep it a secret! I’m not sure I could.”

  “I’d better change the subject so I don’t crack!” Zoey said. “I’m working on a receiving outfit for the baby, to give you before I leave for Japan.”

  “Oh, Zoey!” said Lulu. “I can’t wait for the baby to wear it.”

  Buttons licked Zoey’s leg, and she scratched her behind her ears. “Is Buttons getting excited?” Zoey asked.

  “Hard to say, but she definitely senses some changes around here,” Aunt Lulu said, patting her round stomach. Zoey must have looked pensive because Aunt Lulu quickly said, “Zoey, what is it?”

  “Oh, well, uh . . .” Zoey couldn’t quite get the words out. Looking at Lulu’s belly, she’d just now realized that if her dad and Ms. Austen really did get serious serious, they might decide to have a baby too. And Zoey would have another sibling. And Ms. Austen would be its mother.

  “Talk to me,” Lulu said.

  Zoey wanted to tell her everything, but Lulu looked so tired and stressed, and Zoey didn’t want to unload on her.

  “I’m fine, Aunt Lulu,” she said. “There’s just a lot going on with school and getting ready to leave again. I’ve been trying to spend time with my friends, and lately, Ms. Austen wants to hang out with me too. . . .”

  Lulu smiled slightly, as if she’d known all along that that was where the conversation was headed. “It’s okay, Zoey. Your dad told me what’s going on.”

  Relieved, Zoey spilled her guts. “It feels like she’s trying to take Mom’s place.”

  “She’s not,” Lulu said definitively. “And she never could. Essie will bring new and different things to your family, and you should try to be open to them. But she will not ever try to be your mom. She will be herself.”