Glitter Girl Read online

  Kat cringed. Uh-oh. Here we go again, she thought.

  Kat watched as Zoe shot Jules a hostile look. Zoe clearly didn’t like Jules who, with her shaggy brown hair, “Save the Whales” T-shirt, camouflage pants, and black Converse (who wears those anymore?) clearly did not fit in with Kat’s new besties.

  “For your information, I didn’t whine. I looked around on the Internet for articles on missing children and left them up on my laptop screen where I knew my mom would see them,” Zoe shot back proudly.

  “You scared your mom into getting you a new phone? Wow. What a proud moment,” said Jules, more than a little disgusted.

  “Yeah. I wish I had thought of it. The plan was an absolute perspiration!” offered Darcy, her red curls bouncing in excitement.

  “I think you mean ‘inspiration,’ Darce,” said Kat, trying to be helpful.

  “I do?” asked Darcy, not quite sure what she had said that was wrong.

  Before Jules could open her mouth to say something that would undoubtedly create more tension in the group, Kat jumped in. “Well, I think it’s great you got the phone, Zoe, and I think we can all agree that it’s important to stay in contact with our parents.”

  Before they could or couldn’t agree, the second bell rang.

  “Gotta go, peeps,” said Zoe. “Mrs. Jolly wants me to come by her room and explain why I’m dropping out of choir this year.”

  “Why are you? I thought your dream was to be a pop star,” Kat asked.

  “Exactly. Stars aren’t part of a choir,” sniffed Zoe. “They’re backed by a choir. If I want to be a star, gotta start thinking like one. Later, ladies!”

  Zoe sashayed down the corridor, deliberately causing her lustrous hair to swish from side to side.

  “See you guys tomorrow.” Darcy smiled, heading toward the exit.

  “Uh, Darce. It’s first period,” said Kat.

  “Oh yeah, right. Silly me,” giggled Darcy. She looked around puzzled for a moment, trying to get her bearings. Finally, the lightbulb went on, her face lit up, and she headed down the hall to her class.

  Kat shook her head and then looked accusingly over at Jules. “How can someone who is so committed to humanity and saving the world—and peace, love, and understanding—be so judgmental?”

  “Sorry. It’s the smell of all those hair products. Makes me a little nuts,” replied Jules, faking a spastic attack.

  Kat laughed. Even though Jules didn’t quite fit in with her new friends, or even junior high school in general, she was still the smartest, funniest person Kat knew and could always make her laugh.

  As they headed into science class, they were stopped by Ms. Donovan, the frumpy, bespectacled teacher who ran the school’s Shakespeare Club. Though she was barely thirty, she dressed more like someone’s grandma than the young woman she supposedly was.

  “Lady Jules. Pray thee. Hast thou come up with any ideas for thy sonnet?” asked Ms. Donovan in a fake English accent that was more fake than it was English.

  “Not yet, Mistress Donovan. Sure ’tis a burden to choose just the right poem. But I’m working on it,” answered Jules in an actually quite spot-on English accent.

  “Well, let me know if you need any help. I am quite the expert, you know,” continued Ms. Donovan sounding less British as she went.

  “Have you ever considered getting contacts, Ms. Donovan?” asked Kat. She had been scrutinizing the nerdish teacher’s appearance like the host of one of those extreme makeover shows you see all over cable.

  Ms. Donovan looked over to Kat as if noticing her for the first time but in reality was deliberately ignoring her.

  “Because, you know, they would really help show off your face,” continued Kat.

  Ms. Donovan was not particularly fond of Kat or her type (meaning popular girls, not ever having been one herself). “True beauty comes from within, Ms. Connors. Not from superficial trappings,” she sniffed as she self-consciously straightened her glasses and walked away.

  Kat shook her head. “Too bad. If Ms. Donovan externalized some of that inner beauty and added a superficial trapping or two, she might score a date with the hot new basketball coach over there. I hear he’s single.”

  Jules looked over at the tall, buffed-out and impossibly handsome Coach Scofield, who at first glance appeared to be looking at trophies in a glass display case. But as he smoothed back his hair, Jules realized he was actually checking out his own reflection.

  “Uh-uh. No way Ms. Donovan would go for a steroid case like that,” said Jules.

  “I beggeth to differ,” said Kat, putting on her own fairly decent British accent as she nodded across the hall.

  Jules looked over and saw Ms. Donovan walking slowly down the hall, pretending to thumb through some papers on her clipboard, when in reality she was secretly stealing glances at the coach. As a result, she walked right into a student in a big hurry to get somewhere. Her papers scattered everywhere.

  Kat gave Jules a knowing glance. Jules shook her head in disbelief as she and Kat rushed over to help Ms. Donovan save her papers from being trampled by the horde of passing students.

  “Here you go, Ms. Donovan,” said Jules as she handed over a pile of crumpled documents.

  “Thanks, ladies. I guess I better pay attention to where I’m going,” replied Ms. Donovan.

  “Tooooootally understandable,” said Kat, handing over papers with a sweet smile and a knowing nod in the direction of Coach Scofield.

  Embarrassed, Ms. Donovan stuffed the papers on her clipboard. “I will, uh, see you in Shakespeare Club,” she said to Jules and quickly scurried away.

  “Me thinketh Mistress Donovan doth crush-eth on the coach big-time,” said Kat.

  Despite herself, Jules joined Kat in her giggling fit.

  • • •

  The display on Kat’s cell phone said 1:37 p.m. as she pushed open the front door and scanned the school parking lot for her ride. It was an early dismissal day, and she was eager to get home, but it had taken her a few minutes to pry herself away from Mr. Deevers’s lecture on the importance of the isosceles triangle in everyday life.

  Tonight, her dad was finally returning from his business trip. For weeks he had been in Tokyo, where his software company was setting up a system for some really big worldwide corporation. It was particularly special to have him back because it was her parents’ fifteenth anniversary as well. She thought about the family dinner, their first together in a long time. She couldn’t wait to see him and witness his reaction to Kat’s special anniversary gift that she’d been working on all summer.

  As she bounded down the steps to the curb, she hopped into the backseat of a waiting Prius. Jules was already inside.

  “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if I should send out a search party,” said Jules.

  “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Finch,” said Kat to Jules’s dad in the front seat.

  “Not a problem, Kat. We’re in no rush. Right, Jule Box?” said Jules’s father, Dale, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. He was wearing his usual plaid cotton shirt, jeans, and work boots, the “official uniform” of the president of a construction company. He was so unlike Kat’s dad in every way. In fact, Kat couldn’t remember the last time she saw her dad in anything other than a business suit and tie. When she saw him at all, that is.

  Kat liked Jules’s dad, who always smelled of freshly sawed wood and called his daughter little pet names like Jule Box and Jule O’Mine. Somehow, he always, always found time to get away from work to pick her up from school. That’s another thing Kat couldn’t remember about her dad—the last time he’d driven her home from school. Or to school, for that matter.

  Kat suddenly caught herself feeling jealous, so she quickly stared out the window to avoid making eye contact with Jules, who always managed to read her mind—a downside to someone knowing yo
u almost as long as you’ve known yourself.

  Just then a ticket appeared in front of Kat’s face. She had to cross her eyes to read it. It said:

  Admit One—Renaissance Pleasure Faire

  October 15

  She took the ticket from Jules. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “This is what we’re doing for my fourteenth birthday!” squealed Jules. “Dad got them for us. Isn’t it the best idea ever? We can all dress up like medieval characters! The Froggy Boggards will be performing, and Pilch the Storyteller is going to be there too! Oh, and Ms. Donovan says the Shakespeare Club will get to perform their sonnets on the small stage and maybe even sing a song to warm up the crowd before one of the jousts! Isn’t that great? You’ll be there, right?”

  Kat didn’t have to answer. They had been at each other’s birthday parties since the Finches had invited the newly moved-in Connors family to attend Jules’s Sleeping Beauty–themed second birthday party. Although that party was now a sworn secret between Kat and Jules because Jules didn’t want anyone to know she had ever bought into that whole princess thing, even if she was only two at the time. Because in addition to being totally green and a vegan, Jules considered herself a feminist, and feminists didn’t need guys to save them.

  “Duh. Of course I’ll be there. But I’m not eating any rats on a spit,” joked Kat.

  “You’re so elitist,” joked Jules back at her.

  “And I’m not turning off my cell phone,” said Kat.

  “Will you at least put it on vibrate?”

  “Okay. But that’s your birthday present from me.”

  They both laughed as the car pulled up in front of Jules’s house. The girls got out and Jules’s dad said something about having to get back to the job site and seeing Jules later that evening. But Kat wasn’t really listening. Instead, as the Prius pulled away, she stared open-mouthed toward Jules’s large Craftsman-style home. But it wasn’t the house that drew her attention. It was the totally hot-looking guy who was shooting hoops at the end of the driveway. He was tall and lanky, but very toned and tanned. His flop of brown hair swayed down over one eye but didn’t seem to prevent him from hitting basket after basket. Nothing but net!

  “Who is that?” whispered Kat to Jules.

  Jules looked at Kat with disbelief. “Uh, that’s Kyle. My brother. You’ve known him since before you could tie your shoes.”

  “Wow. Really? I haven’t seen him all summer and he looks so, so different,” marveled Kat.

  “He still looks like the same annoying jock boy to me, except tanner,” shrugged Jules.

  “And buffer. And he’s grown like three inches. Your parents weren’t kidding around when they sent him to Atlanta to build those Houses for Humans that they’re so into.”

  “Habitat for Humanity. Yeah, Kyle was pretty annoyed since all he wanted to do all summer was practice so he could try out for the freshman basketball team. But Mom and Dad are real believers in giving back to the community. I’ve got plenty of causes, but they thought Kyle needed some focus. So when Dad volunteered labor from his company, he volunteered Kyle too. I guess the plus side of manual labor is the manual part. He did get in pretty good shape over the summer.”

  “You’re telling me!” said Kat.

  “Uh. Yeah. Anyway, he’s back now and I have to start sharing the remote again, which is a total drag,” groaned Jules. “I have to get to work on my sonnet. Call me if you can’t figure out that geometry stuff.”

  Kat watched as Jules walked up the driveway. She could hear Jules acknowledge her brother with a “Hey, loser” and him respond to her with a “How’s it going, dweeb?” When Jules turned to wave good-bye to Kat just before disappearing into the house, Kyle turned too. And their eyes locked for an instant. Kyle smiled and gave Kat a nod.

  Kat felt her face flush hot and red. She waved back and then turned quickly and hightailed it across the street to her own house.

  She almost tripped as she tried to negotiate the stairs up to the entryway of her huge Tudor-style home in her strappy sandals with heels. But she caught herself and hoped against all hope that Kyle wasn’t still watching. When she turned to look over her shoulder, she saw that he was. Embarrassed but also a little pleased, she managed to make it the rest of the way to the door without taking a header into the begonias.

  As she did, her thoughts turned from Kyle and his floppy brown hair.

  “Dad! Daddy! I’m home!” she yelled, the screen door slamming behind her.

  Chapter 4

  What Light from Yonder Laptop Breaks?

  Kat entered the house, depositing her backpack in the middle of the entryway. She heard her father’s voice coming from the kitchen. She dashed past the new 4K TV in the living room and arrived out of breath in the kitchen to find her mom having a heart-to-heart discussion with…a computer?

  Oh joy. Another Internet video date for her parents. On their anniversary, no less. Her heart sunk for her mom.

  “…and make sure you call Angela Wilson to cancel my golf date with Gene on Saturday,” her father’s digitized voice called out over the speakers of the computer. His image appeared in full-screen mode on her mom’s laptop that she kept near the phone. Her dad continued, “That should give him plenty of time to find another partner. You know how Gene Wilson gets if he doesn’t have anyone around to pretend he isn’t cheating on his golf score.”

  Kat’s mom, Trudy, nodded, dutifully taking notes on a pad set out by the computer for just this purpose.

  “Shall I reschedule with the Wilsons?” Trudy said in a voice that tried to hide the fact that she was terribly disappointed. Kat watched her mom with compassion. Her mom had gotten really good at acting like all these disappointments and postponements were no biggie, but for Kat, it was harder. And it hurt. She could barely even look at her dad’s image on the screen.

  “Hey!” Paul’s voice brightened up, catching a glimpse of Kat as she came into view of the webcam. “Is that Kat? How you doing, kiddo? Is it that late already?”

  “No, Daddy,” Kat said, summoning up a forced smile. “Remember today is the last Friday of the month, early dismissal day.”

  “Since when?” Paul Connors stepped out of camera range for a moment, coming back with a necktie draped around his neck.

  “Since forever,” Kat said. “Daddy, I thought you were coming home today.”

  “I did too, honey, but circumstances didn’t allow it.”

  “What does that mean?” Kat said, doing a significantly worse job than her mom at hiding her disappointment.

  “It means that Mr. Fujimora wants to go over the figures again with his team before he signs the contract,” said Paul, executing a perfect Windsor knot on his silk necktie. Kat recognized that tie; she had helped her mom pick it out for her dad’s birthday. Well, for her dad’s birthday celebration anyway. Her dad had been in Paris or Beijing or Timbuktu or some other foreign place on the actual birthday. But like many celebrations at the Connors house, that had to be “adjusted” to fit her dad’s work schedule.

  Kat tried not to mind. She knew that a big part of being an international businessman like her dad was the “international” part, but it seemed like the higher he moved up in the industry, the more he was needed in Lisbon or Rome or Tegucigalpa (wherever that was). For a while, Kat kept a map of all the different places her dad went on business, but she had run out of thumbtacks somewhere between Paris and Abu Dhabi, and she hadn’t gotten around to getting any more at the drugstore. That map was in the attic now, gathering dust alongside her American Girl tea set.

  Suddenly, Kat snapped out of her funk. “Holy cow!” she said, remembering the gift. “I almost forgot! I’ll be right back!”

  Kat bounded up the stairs toward her room to retrieve the one thing that might salvage the day a little. “Just a minute, just a minute, just a minute!” she yelled behind her. She ran
past the master bedroom, the guest room, her mom’s sewing room (although she never sewed anything, as far as Kat could tell), the second guest room, and finally arrived at her own bedroom at the end of the hallway.

  Jules always said that there should be a snack shop or a vending machine on the way to Kat’s bedroom so that weary travelers could rest up before they finished the final leg of their journey. But that was just Jules being Jules. Their house wasn’t that much bigger than the other houses on the cul-de-sac. True, it was a bit on the roomy side for just three people, but her mom did like to have her friends over for cocktail parties and stuff, and there were lots of good nooks and crannies for hide-and-seeking during sleepovers, and it was the only home Kat had ever known, and besides, Jules’s house wasn’t much smaller.

  Jules liked to play the part of nature girl, but when it came right down to it, she had as much stuff as everybody else in this part of town. Or so Kat told herself anyway, especially after one of Jules’s many sermonettes on the dangers of not recycling or the carbon footprint being left by all the barbecue parties Kat’s mom threw during the summer.

  Kat zipped past the seldom-used desk, just now covered with the discards from this morning’s fashion decisions, and dropped to her knees and began searching under the bed. She pushed past a couple of old teddy bears (Captain Cuddles wasn’t lookin’ so hot these days, she noted briefly), and…Eureka! There it was. She pulled the book out and looked at its handmade cover and note: “Kat’s Annual Super-Duper Scrapbook of Memories.”

  Every year for the last ten years, Kat had presented a scrapbook to her parents on their anniversary, filled with what had happened in the family the previous year. True, for the first few years, it had been pretty much her mom’s deal, but little by little Kat had taken over the day-to-day operations of the family scrapbooking enterprise. Even though Trudy would never admit it, Kat thought that she’d improved on some of her mom’s original ideas.