Emma's Not-So-Sweet Dilemma (4 page)

Parsley: make a paste by pulverizing the leaves and adding a tiny bit of water, then apply thickly over the bruised area and allow to sit for fifteen minutes.

Tea bag: steep the tea for one minute in hot tap water, then remove bag, squeeze out excess water, and
apply to bruise, allowing it to sit on area for fifteen minutes.

I looked back into the bag, and there was a tube of arnica cream, a bunch of parsley in a plastic produce bag, and a small box of organic black tea bags.

“Wow, Katie, this is so awesome! Thank you! I'll e-mail your mom later to say thanks. This is so very thoughtful.”

Katie rolled her eyes like it was a little embarrassing. “Who knows if it will work or not.”

“It's totally worth a try,” I said. “At least I'll feel like I'm doing something rather than sitting around feeling sorry for myself.”

We wrapped up the afternoon by reviewing our holiday shopping lists together. I knew I wanted to get my mom a pancake skillet and/or a new book or gift card from the bookstore at the mall. I wanted to get my dad a coach's whistle and a new clipboard, because he lost his at a soccer game recently and had been kind of looking for it ever since. For my brothers, I figured I'd get them each something sporty at the sporting goods store, like socks, or if I couldn't find anything there, then maybe an iTunes gift card. It seemed a little lame and maybe not that imaginative, so it was hard to get excited about the
boys' gifts. Also, it would all be kind of expensive.

Mia went over what she was getting for her parents and her stepfather, Eddie, and her stepbrother, Dan. Then Alexis shared her ideas for her parents and admitted that she was totally stumped when it came to her older sister, Dylan, who we all knew was superpicky and hard to please. When it came to Katie's turn, she said, “Well, I only have my mom, so it's pretty easy. And I like to do a stocking for her.” She explained what she was planning to put in it this year. It was all very thoughtful, and it made me kind of wince at my lack of originality, and also because I sometimes feel a little bad for Katie that she has such a small family. I mean, half the time I'd really be happier without my brothers around, but after a while it would get lonely and boring.

“Oh, also, I was thinking I might do a stocking for Mr. Green.” Katie shrugged casually, as if it was no big deal. But it kind of was. Her mom had been dating a math teacher from our school for a while, and we were all very supportive of it, even if it was a little awkward for Katie. “And maybe one for his daughter, Emily, too.”

“Hey, we're shopping for one another this year too, right?” Alexis said brightly.

Mia nodded. “I am, but only 'cause I think it's
fun. No one needs to get me anything.” Mia is a really good shopper, always finding unique things at great prices.

“Oh, please! Like we'd forget about you for the holidays!” I joked.

“I'm just saying . . .” Mia shrugged.

“And what about . . . um, is anyone buying anything for anyone else?” asked Alexis a little too casually, looking intently at her fingernails like they suddenly contained the key to the universe.

Mia said, “Well, I'll get something for Ava, of course.” Ava is her best friend from when she lived full-time in the city. We all know her and have become friends with her too, through Mia.

Katie said shyly, “I was thinking of getting something for George. I don't have as many people to buy for as you all do, so . . .” She smiled a shy smile and folded her arms.

“You go, girl!” said Mia.

“So someone
is
buying for a boy!” said Alexis with a big grin.

I had to crack up. “Did you have anyone in mind, Lexi?” I teased.

She looked up innocently. “What? Me? Oh, well. I mean. I just wondered if anyone was. You know . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Matt would love anything sporty,” I said, “if that is useful information to anyone here.” I purposely looked away from Alexis.

“Actually, I was thinking it would be fun to get something for Jake,” Mia said. “It's fun to buy for kids at holiday time, and he's kind of the only kid I really know.”

“Hey, that reminds me!” said Katie, standing so she could pull something from her back pocket. She unfolded a flyer and put it on the kitchen table. “We should donate to this!”

It was a notice for a children's holiday party to be held at the hospital this Sunday, with refreshments, games and prizes, and a visit from Santa, who would have gifts for all the kids.

“Cute!” I agreed. “Let's do it!”

Alexis was squinting at the flyer, which had a contact name at the bottom and an e-mail address. “I'll get in touch with this Kathy Dwyer to see if she'd like us to donate cupcakes. They'll need to be nut free, I'm sure. And festive. So we can do the Hanukkah ones we're doing for the holiday boutique, but we'll need to come up with another recipe for Christmas.”

“Sounds good,” I said, and smiled, which kind of made my face feel like it was going to crack and
fall off. “Hey, do you think your mom would mind if I washed this off now?” I asked Mia.

“No,” she said, laughing. “Can't stand it?”

I shook my head. “It itches after a while.”

“Occupational hazard for a model!” she teased.

“I know. But I'd also love to get some of these tea bags on my face. No time like the present!” I said, thinking of my upcoming date with Mona.

When I got home from Mia's, I did the parsley paste and later went to bed with a thick layer of arnica cream on my face. It kind of stung at first, but I told myself that meant it was working, and eventually I did fall asleep.

And lo and behold, it worked!

When I woke up the next day, I rushed to my mirror again (a new ritual), and the bruising was visibly better! I mean, I still looked like a freak, like the victim of a boxing match with the heavyweight champion of the world. But even Jake said at breakfast, “Emmy, your black eyes are turning greenish!” and I had to thank him. That was a compliment in our house these days, after all.

I was still dreading going to school for the first time since the Big Hit (as I had come to think of it). I knew everyone would be trying to say funny stuff all day like, “I'd hate to see the other guy” and “Did
you get the license plate of the bus that hit you?” I braced myself to just smile and let it roll off my back, knowing my reaction would all depend on who said it. I braided my hair, pulled one of Sam's newer baseball hats onto my head, and used some of Mrs. Valdes's miracle cream to lighten up the bruising. I looked okay but still not good. Sighing, I trudged off to school.

Needless to say, the day was filled with casual cruelty in the form of people trying to be funny, but other people were surprisingly nice. A quiet girl in my math class named Ann Roberts patted my shoulder and told me that the same thing had happened to her a few years ago, and it goes away pretty fast. One of the lunch ladies gave me extra dessert. So it all evened out in the end.

It wasn't until my last class of the day that someone's arrow really hit the mark. Naturally, it was Olivia Allen who launched it. She was whispering with a friend as I was walking down the hall, and they both immediately stopped talking when I got close, exchanging knowing looks. Shortly after, I felt a nudge on my arm, and it was a note, from Olivia.

I opened it and inside it said:
Dr. Kaminow. City Hospital. He's the best.

I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out what it meant. Olivia made a fake sad face, trying to look sympathetic. And then as she walked away she loudly whispered, “Plastic surgeon.”

Um.

“For what?” I asked.

Olivia tapped her nose. Then she whispered, “He's a genius. Call him.”

Shocked, my jaw dropped as if I'd been slapped.
Seriously? Did I look that bad?
My body tingled with embarrassment. I walked home after class, dejected. Upstairs, I washed my face and slathered it with arnica cream and googled Dr. Kaminow. I was in the midst of celebrity before and after pictures (actually, Olivia was right. Dr. Kaminow
was
the best) when the phone rang and Matt called upstairs that it was for me.

Out in the hall I picked up the extension and heard Mona's voice, a little more agitated than usual.

“Darling. So exciting. Rosner is being quite aggressive. Apparently, he likes to wrap things up on his own timetable. Anyhoo, are you free . . . tomorrow? I will pay you double for the short notice, of course. But if you could possibly fit us in?” I could hear the hope in Mona's voice, but I was feeling anything but pretty today.

“Oh . . .” I stalled. “Um . . .”

“If you
are
free, that is?” Mona asked brightly.

Oh, I was free all right. I sighed. Mona is my bread and butter. All my clothing money and social life money comes from the work I do with her. Plus, she's our steadiest cupcake customer, with a weekly order. How could I not support her in her time of need?

“Sure. What time do you need me there? And you don't have to pay me double, Mona,” I added, silently grateful that Alexis could not hear me right now.

“Divine!”
Mona exploded on the other end. “Just divine! I love you, you darling girl. Putting you in my will! Be here at five, please, tomorrow! Ta-ta!” she trilled, and she hung up.

I stood in the hall, staring at the phone in my hand. “Oh boy,” I said out loud.

Matt was coming up the stairs behind me. “Bad news?” he asked, pausing.

I nodded. “Mona needs me for a big job tomorrow.”

“How's that bad news?” he asked, confused.

I tapped my nose the same way Olivia had earlier.

“Oh. Seriously? Get over it. No one will even
notice,” he said, shaking his head in disgust and continuing on to his room.

“Matthew, we are talking about people who work with beauty for a living. They'll notice all right. It's their job to make sure every little physical detail is perfect!”

“Then maybe you need to start hanging around less snobby people,” he said. And he closed the door to his room behind him.

“Ugh!” I yelled in frustration. I wanted to shout, “I'm a model! They're all snobby people!” But it sounded too awful to say that out loud.

It was time for a tea bag compress and all the parsley I could handle. If only I had time for a quick visit with Dr. Kaminow!

I
was so distracted at school, I could barely concentrate on what my friends were talking about at lunch, never mind classes. Thank goodness I didn't have any tests or quizzes that day.

“Emma! Your face is looking so much better!” Katie said kindly as we all met up at our lunch table.

“Thanks,” I said. “I see it too, but I think if you haven't been with me since the beginning, it still looks pretty awful.”

Katie nodded sympathetically. “I guess,” she agreed.

“Katie! Emma's got a big modeling job today! We all agree she looks just fine, right?” Mia said emphatically, glaring at Katie.

Katie looked mortified. “Oh! Right. Totally,
Em. And when you put on some of that concealer and stuff from Mrs. Valdes, I'm sure it will all be invisible.”

“I'm wearing it now,” I said, smiling.

“Oh! Well. Maybe a reapplication?” Katie said hopefully. And we all had to laugh. It felt good, and I thought about how lucky I am to have such supportive friends.

“Okay, business!” said Alexis.

“What else?” I teased.

“I spoke with Kathy Dwyer, and they'd love a cupcake donation for the party—cute and fun cupcakes, and nut free, of course.”

“Great. When will we make them?” I asked.

“I've already thought of that,” said Alexis. “When we do the Mona baking and the holiday boutique baking on Friday, we'll do extra frosting for another batch of Hanukkah cupcakes, and we'll make the frosting for whatever our second Christmassy-themed cupcakes are. Then we'll just have to bake the cakes Sunday morning and then frost and deliver! Voilà!”

“We can do it at my house,” offered Katie. “All of it. It's fine.”

We heaved a collective sigh of relief. Katie's house was the only one where we could really
take over, especially more than once a week. My house was just too busy, with too many people, and Alexis's mom couldn't stand too much mess for too long, and Mia's house was busy too.

“So what should we do for the Christmas cupcakes?” I asked.

“Hmm,” said Mia.

We were all quiet, thinking while we ate our lunch for a moment. Of course just then, Olivia walked by to hand in her empty tray. She inclined her head sympathetically at us and said, “Disfigurement is so sad. Stay strong, Emma.” Then she shook her head with big, sad eyes and kept walking.

When she was about three paces away, we all burst out laughing.