Will the Real Raisin Rodriguez Please Stand Up? (10 page)

So I took off the dress, hung it over the chair, put on my shirt, and went back outside to see if they had anything like it in a smaller size.

As I was looking through the dress rack, Vivvy walked in.

“Hey, Raisinette,” she said. “Sorry I'm late. You look awesome. Where'd you get all that stuff?”

I showed her where everything was and went back to looking for a dress. But there was nothing on the rack that was nearly as groovy, glam, or gorgeous. So I headed back to the dressing room.

Where I was greeted by Vivvy.

WEARING MY DRESS.

“That's my dress,” I told her.

“But Pia and Claudia told me it didn't fit you,” she said.

“It fits,” I replied. “It just needs to be altered a little. Maybe some darts or something.”

But she wouldn't back down. “Okay, well, what if we all try to find you another dress, and if we don't find anything you like as much, you can have it,” she said.

She really had some nerve. Especially considering what happened yesterday. I was so angry, I could feel myself turning into a monster. A blond-haired monster.

“IT'S NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU HELPED YOURSELF TO MY FRIENDS AND MY BLOG, NOT TO MENTION MY PIE. THAT'S MY DRESS, AND YOU BETTER TAKE IT OFF,” I shouted.

Vivvy just stared at me, looking a little freaked out.

“Raise!” said Claudia.

“Calm down,” said Pia. “We'll find a way to work this out.”

“No, we won't,” I shouted again. “There is no way to work it out. Vivvy just has to take off the dress and give it to me. RIGHT NOW.”

Now the three of them were looking at me, freaked. No one said a word.

“I guess your friends aren't going to stand up for you this time, Vivvy. Maybe they've finally caught on to the fact that you're a bit of a sneak, huh? That you're not as innocent as you pretend to be. And that maybe you're not to be trusted. What do you think of that?”

Vivvy's face turned as pink as the color of Pia's wig. Her eyes were ablaze. “Here,” she said, pulling the dress over her head. “Here's the stinkin' dress that doesn't even fit you.” She rolled it into a ball and shoved it in my hand. “Take it,” she said. Then she threw on her clothes and stormed out of the dressing room and out of the store.

Claudia ran after her. And Pia stayed in the room with me. We were silent for a really long time. I thought about everything I said, and I didn't regret any of it. Except maybe the part about the pie. Makes me sound a little piggy.

I started to laugh.

“What's so funny?” Pia asked.

“I just noticed that I'm still wearing my wig.” I took it off. Pia laughed and took hers off too. “I'm sorry, Pi,” I finally said to her. “I'm sorry that you have to be in the middle of all this.”

“You don't have to apologize to me,” she said. “I get why you're upset. It's partially mine and Claud's fault. We should have realized that you guys might be jealous of each other.”

Then Claud came back. I apologized to her as well, and she basically said the same thing Pia said to me. She just added one comment.

“You don't have to worry about Pia and me. But Vivvy? If you ever want to talk to her again, all I can say is good luck with that. You have a LOT of apologizing to do. If I were you, I'd start with the pie comment. She said you made her sound like a pig.”

“Where did she go anyway?” Pia asked.

“She was on her way to her dad's to help him set up for the party,” Claudia answered.

We all bought our stuff and then we went home. Part of me didn't even want it anymore. Especially the dress. But I couldn't not buy it after I had made such a big deal about it. Then I would have seemed even crazier than I already seemed.

I wonder what's going to happen now that Vivvy and I aren't talking. Are Pia and Claudia going to start hanging out with us separately? What if they change their minds about not being angry at me and take Vivvy's side? That would be horrible.

Not that there's anything I can do about it now anyway. The damage is already done.

Why Vivvy Deserved My Raging Outburst of Rage

 
6:16 PM, PST

I wish you guys were around so I could talk to you. Oh, wait—Jeremy's IM'ing me:

 
7:45 PM, PST

Lynn—Thank you for your suggestion, but right now I'm too miserable to consider suffering for my art. Maybe I can give it a try once I'm feeling a little better.

I just got off the phone with CJ, and he didn't even mention my song. Maybe no one told him that it was mine. Which would kind of make sense since he doesn't actually speak to anyone. All he said was, “Both my violin solos went really well, especially ‛Black Christmas Totally Rocks.' It totally rocked.” (Come to think of it, it sounds like maybe he's been talking to Roman).

I guess my feelings can't be hurt if he didn't even know that the song was mine. Which is a good thing, because I don't even think there's room in my feelings to be hurt by one more thing.

 
7:56 PM, PST

Forgive me. I seem to have miscalculated. There is room in my feelings for me to be hurt by one more thing.

WHY COULDN'T CJ FIGURE OUT THAT I WROTE “RAISIN THE RED-EYED PERSON”! WHO ELSE WOULD WRITE A SONG LIKE THAT? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHY COULDN'T HE PICK UP ON THE FACT THAT IT'S A CRY FOR HELP?

Even Jeremy picked up on it, and he's not my boyfriend.

Observe:

 
In all fairness, I've known Jeremy longer than I've known CJ. Maybe I just need to give him a chance to catch up.

 
11:33 PM, PST

I am in so much trouble!!!

My dad's friend Danny (and yes, they are most definitely just friends, as you will shortly see) is as it turns out VIVVY'S MOTHER! They met at a dinner party at Pia's mother's house!

Of all the people for him to make friends with, why does it have to be her? Weren't there any other people at Pia's mother's house? I'm sure Mr. Ellison was there. He's Pia's next-door neighbor. He'd be a perfect friend for my dad. He even does yoga. I've seen him do it on his patio. Why couldn't Dad have picked him? And Mrs. Ellison is very nice too. I'm not sure whether she does yoga, but she makes some mean oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

What am I going to do? If Vivvy hasn't already told her mother what happened this morning (I'm crossing my fingers—she was on her way to her dad's when I last saw her), then she's bound to do it soon. And if it gets back to my dad . . . he will kill me. Accusing people of stealing and fighting over clothing is not the yogic way. Though I should remind him that neither is killing your children.

And to think I spent so much energy trying to figure out whether they were boyfriend and girlfriend when I really should have been concentrating on how I wanted to spend my last night on earth.

As soon as Danny came on the boat, I was pretty sure she wasn't my dad's girlfriend. She has gray hair, which makes her look older than him, and she's also taller than he is.

And once we pulled out of the slip, they went down to the galley to get dinner ready and I eavesdropped on their conversation, which convinced me even more.

This is what I heard:

 
Daniela: Can you pass me the sugar?

Dad: (He passes her some sugar.)

This is what I did not hear:

Daniela: Give me some sugar.

Dad: (He gives her a great big hug.)

I heard this:

Dad: Did you have a chance to pick up the cupcakes?

Daniela: Yup. I stopped by The Teacup on the way home from work.

But not this:

Dad: Cupcake, I love you.

Daniela: I love you more.

This happened:

Dad: Captain Murray says the water's extra calm tonight.

Daniela: Well, I brought something for motion sickness just in case.

This did not:

Dad: Your eyes are blue like the water.

Daniela: And you have beautiful brown eyes. And if I could think of anything good to compare them to, I'd compare them to that.

 
When my dad and Danny were done setting the food out on the deck, we sat down to eat. By this time we were far out at sea. It was an incredibly beautiful night. The sky was almost completely clear, and the stars were shining brightly. The ocean, the bright lights of the Golden Gate Bridge, and other boats were all I could see for miles.

Those and the horn-rimmed half glasses that suddenly appeared, perched on Danny's nose.

The ones that are sold at Rite Aid and you try them on because you want to see if you can pull off that emo girl look. But you might never find out because when you look in the mirror, everything is blurry because they're meant for nearsightedness.

“So what have you been doing since you got here?” asked Danny, interrupting my train of thought. She peered at me over her glasses as she took a bite of goat cheese salad.

“Hanging out with my friends, shopping, that kind of thing,” I said.

“You know, Danny knows Pia and Claudia,” said my dad.

“Really? How?” I asked.

“Well, they're friends with my daughter,” Danny said. “I think you might have met her. Her name is Vivvy?”