Turning Up the Heat Read online

Page 2


  Tomorrow! Uh-oh! thought Amanda. Why am I the only one who thinks this is a big deal? I don’t think I want to do this!

  After Nathan’s, it was time to cross Surf Avenue and get on the subway. This part of the subway line was elevated, not underground. The girls liked seeing Brooklyn from above for a change. At the foot of the subway stairs, they passed Philip’s Candy Store.

  “Last chance for frozen chocolate-covered bananas!” called Mr. Jordan, waving at the man behind the counter. “This candy store has been here for over forty years! I used to come here when I was a kid and get the taffy apples.” He paused on the stairs. “I cant think of anywhere else in the world where you can take the subway to the ocean,” he remarked. “Except Tokyo, Japan. I know you can do that in Japan.”

  “That’s my dad, the walking encyclopedia,” Shawn said and she slid her MetroCard through the slot on the turnstile. “Oh! I hear the train!”

  “Hurry up!” said Molly.

  Everyone hurried up the ramp toward the train. They could hear a conductor announce, “Stand clear of the closing doors.” The doors would close any moment!

  “Let’s not rush, girls, there’s always another train,” said Mr. Jordan, but Molly and Amanda were sprinting toward the doors.

  “Hurry, Amanda!” Molly was saying to Amanda, who was slightly ahead.

  “Slow down, girls!” shouted Mr. Jordan, running to keep up.

  Shawn and Peichi were sprinting now, too, behind Mr. Jordan. Just then, the doors closed. Molly, Mr. Jordan, Shawn, and Peichi didn’t make it on to the train.

  Amanda pressed against the doors, but they didn’t open.

  She couldn’t believe it! Molly had made her rush. And she didn’t even give her a warning that she wasn’t getting on. Her mind was probably on that dumb surprise party!

  Amanda saw Mr. Jordan mouth, “Get off at the next stop.”

  Amanda nodded as her train rolled out of the station, away from all of her friends.

  chapter 2

  Amanda leaned her head against the door, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  I can’t believe I ran onto the train without everyone! she thought. Why didn’t I listen to Mr. Jordan and slow down? Why did I have to listen to Molly?

  Amanda pressed her face against the cool glass window of the subway car. It was thirty seconds until the next stop, but it seemed like forever for Amanda.

  The doors opened, and she stepped off the train and looked around. She spotted an empty bench on the platform and sat down.

  This elevated train stop overlooked a gigantic cemetery. Everything was completely silent. Now Amanda had to wait for the next train to come, and jump on to join everyone.

  Minutes dragged by. Amanda was too scared to even look around much. The station was eerily quiet. She just kept looking in the direction the train would come from. Hurry up, she prayed.

  Finally, she saw the train. It seemed to be moving slowly, but it finally rumbled in. Amanda stood up. Hopefully, her friends would be waiting for her in the last car of the train.

  Cars flashed by. Finally, hers was coming. There they were! Mr. Jordan and the girls were waving. The train stopped, the door opened, and Mr. Jordan reached out his hand to help her on the train. All the girls were saying, “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, Amanda, I’m so sorry!” cried Mr. Jordan. “I feel awful!”

  “It’s not your fault, Mr. Jordan,” said Amanda. “Molly and I never should have run ahead of you like that. I’m sorry.” She turned to Molly and said, “Thanks a lot, Molly. You owe Mr. Jordan an apology. And me!” She started crying again.

  Molly swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Manda,” she said. She felt helpless. She looked at Mr. Jordan. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jordan.”

  “Well, everything’s okay now!” said Mr. Jordan. “Let’s all sit down, okay?”

  Amanda sat as far away from Molly as she could.

  It was only about a fifteen-minute ride back to Park Terrace. The subway car was full of people who’d spent the warm July Saturday at Coney Island, loaded down with coolers, giant lollipops, stuffed-animal prizes, and toddlers conked out in their strollers. Teenagers with wet hair held hands, babies cried, and groups of boys shouted and laughed.

  Amanda, Molly, and Mr. Jordan didn’t say much, but everyone else on the train was still having fun.

  “This is the party train,” observed Peichi. “Oh, here we go!” Suddenly the daylight disappeared as the train plunged underground.

  “Here’s our stop,” announced Shawn. Everyone got out of the train and walked through the cool, dark station and up the stairs to the bright, busy street.

  “Thank you, Mr. Jordan,” said Amanda.

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Jordan,” echoed Molly, wishing that for once that she could remember to be polite before Amanda did.

  “You’re welcome, girls,” said Mr. Jordan. He chuckled. “What an adventure we had! And I’m not talking about the Cyclone!”

  “Call me,” said Shawn to the twins.

  “And me!” said Peichi. “Or instant-message me!”

  “We will! Bye!” said the twins, and headed to their house on Taft Street.

  “Listen, Amanda,” Molly said as the girls walked down the street. “I’m really sorry you got separated from the rest of us, but you shouldn’t have run ahead.”

  Amanda stopped walking. “Me? Run ahead? What do you mean? You were right behind me, screaming at me to hurry up. You could have warned me that you weren’t getting on.”

  “I guess,” Molly said. “Sorry.”

  “Whatever,” Amanda said. She marched up the stairs of the Moores’ brownstone, unlocked the door, and headed inside.

  There was a note by the phone on the kitchen counter:Hi, bunnies—did you win any prizes? Dad and Matthew and I went to the hardware store. We’ll be back soon. Lemonade in fridge.

  Love, Mom P.S. Natasha Ross called at 11:30.

  “Whoa! Natasha called? Us?” exclaimed Molly.

  “Oh, she’s such a pain,” said Amanda, forgetting that she was still angry at her sister. “I wonder what she wants? And what’s with the ‘bunnies?’ Mom hasn’t called us that since we were three years old.”

  “Well, Mom’s getting older,” joked Molly. “Maybe she forgot we’re eleven now!”

  Both girls reread Mom’s note to make sure it really said the word “Natasha.”

  Last year, Natasha Ross had become the twins’ archenemy—Shawn’s, too—after she’d told the school principal that the twins had cheated on an important science test. The lie was whispered from one student to another, and it zipped through the school. Then, when Shawn tried to do damage control and explain to people that Natasha had lied, Natasha spread another rumor that Shawn had cheated, too.

  But lately, it was becoming harder and harder to avoid Natasha. She’d shown up on the first day of cooking class, was put in the same small group as Molly, and had made Molly miserable. And as if that hadn’t been bad enough, the twins then bumped into her in the small town on the New Jersey shore where their grandpa lived! That time, at least, Natasha had tried to be nice, probably because they had tried being a little nicer to her.

  Molly’s and Amanda’s mom had been telling the girls to forget how mean Natasha had been, forgive her, and just be as nice as possible and include her in things. Mom thought that Natasha had a sad life and needed friends. Molly and Amanda knew Natasha needed friends, all right. She really didn’t have any since Monica Aguilar had moved away last year. But why was that their problem? Plus, they had already tried inviting Natasha over and she blew them off.

  “You don’t think we should we call Nastasha back, do you?” asked Amanda.

  “Of course we should call her back,” replied Molly. “We have to. We cant just—ignore her.”

  “We’ll see her in class this week,” Amanda reminded Molly. “We could just talk to her then. Oops, there’s dried mustard on my shirt.” She left the kitchen and went upstairs to change her clothes. Knowing Amanda, she
’ll change her entire outfit, not just her shirt, Molly thought.

  Molly put her hands on her hips and stared at the phone. Should we call or shouldn’t we call? I hate not knowing what to do, she thought. Just call and get it over with!

  Molly flipped through the phone book, found the number, then quickly dialed it before she could change her mind.

  “Hello?” It was Natasha.

  “Hi, Natasha, it’s Molly...um, how are you?”

  “I’m okay. Did you get my message?” asked Natasha.

  Well, duh, thought Molly. “Uh-huh,” she replied. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, I thought maybe we could get together. If you want to.”

  Why do you want to get together now? Molly wanted to ask, but instead she said, “Sure. What do you want to do?”

  “Oh, anything,” replied Natasha.

  That’s when Amanda came downstairs wearing a red T-shirt and a blue denim skirt. She heard Molly talking, so she went into the den to pick up the cordless extension, then joined Molly in the kitchen.

  “Well, a bunch of us are going to cook tomorrow for my mom’s surprise birthday party,” Molly was saying. “Do you want to come over and help us?” Amanda’s eyes got round as she stared at Molly. She fired Molly a look that said. What are you doing?

  “That sounds like fun,” replied Natasha. “What time?”

  “We’ll have to call you. It depends on when we can get my mom out of the house for a while. Okay?”

  As Amanda listened, she felt helpless. Her face got hot. Thanks a lot for taking over, Molly, she thought angrily. Again!

  “Okay. Talk to you tomorrow,” said Natasha. She sounded almost happy. “Bye!”

  “Bye.” Molly hung up.

  “Why did you call her?” asked Amanda sharply. “I don’t want to invite her over, Molly. Not that she’d come, anyway. Don’t worry about her!”

  “I’m not worried about her,” said Molly with a shrug. “Anyway, we’ve got lots of other things to think about. Like—we’re throwing a party tomorrow! We have to get Mom out of the house, decorate, and cook! What are we gonna have besides hot dogs and hamburgers? We have to have a birthday cake, too! Yipes! Tomorrow’s gonna come too fast. Now I’m stressed out!”

  “Well, Molly, you got us into this,” stated Amanda. “As usual.”

  “At least we have the Chef Girls to help us,” Molly went on, as she stared up at the clock. “But first we need to talk to Dad as soon as he gets home, and tell him what we want to do.”

  “Whatever,” Amanda said. Her arms were folded tightly against her chest, and she looked down at the floor. By now, Amanda thought, she should have been used to Molly’s schemes. Molly was always so spur-of-the-moment, always dragging Amanda into something they’d never done before. And when Molly’s mind was made up, there was no stopping her. But it wasn’t fair!

  chapter 3

  Boy, thought Molly, she’s really mad!

  Molly reached into the cookie jar and handed Amanda a chocolate-chip cookie. “Sorry,” she said to Amanda. “Again. First the subway, and now this. But I really think everything’s gonna work out...okay? You’ve gotta trust me. Think how fun it’ll be to surprise Mom!”

  Amanda sighed and looked up. She didn’t want to be mad at Molly anymore—it was too tiring!

  “Okay,” she said. “I guess I’m stuck with having you as my twin, so we’re in this together! Come on, let’s figure out what we’re going to make tomorrow.”

  Molly and Amanda grabbed two glasses of lemonade and a few of Mom’s cookbooks and headed out to the garden. They really loved it when no one was home and they could have the garden to themselves. The garden was long and narrow, surrounded by a high wooden fence. It had a small patio that was taken up by Dad’s gas grill, a colorful flower garden that seemed to take up more room each summer, a thick old tree that was about a hundred years old, some lawn chairs, and a picnic table where the Moores liked to eat on summer evenings.

  “‘Summer Classics,’” read Molly out loud. “Hmmm. Potato salad. We could make that. It doesn’t look too hard.”

  “Great,” said Amanda as she turned on the hose. “These poor flowers are about to dry up...hey, what about baked beans? They’re good in the summer, too.”

  “Oh, yeah!” exclaimed Molly. “Mom makes great baked beans. Her recipe must be in one of these books.”

  “We could make a green salad, too,” suggested Amanda. “Or a fruit salad.”

  “But what about the cake?” fretted Molly. “I don’t feel like making a layer cake. It’ll probably turn out lopsided.”

  “Hi, girls!” called Mom from the kitchen window.

  “Oh! You’re home!” Molly cried. “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi, Mom,” said Amanda calmly as she kicked the cookbooks under a chair. She didn’t want Mom to know that they were thinking about cooking. Mom was pretty smart. She’d easily put two and two together since her birthday was coming up.

  “What are you reading, Molly? I’m glad to see you with a book.”

  “Oh, just my summer reading,” fibbed Molly.

  “How was Coney Island?” asked Mom.

  “Great!” replied the twins.

  “Did you see my note? About Natasha?”

  “Uh-huh,” replied Molly. “We might see her, uh, tomorrow.”

  “Oh! Okay,” said Mom. She gave them a big smile.

  The twins finally got Dad alone when Mom went upstairs with Matthew to listen to him practice the violin.

  “So, Dad, what do you think? asked Molly.

  “Sounds great,” replied Dad as he leaned back and opened up the sports section of the Times. “When do you want to do it—next weekend?”

  “No, tomorrow,” said Molly.

  Dad dropped the paper and sat up in his chair. “A party? Tomorrow? That’s impossible, girls! We cant invite people to come to a party tomorrow. It’s too short notice.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be a party party,” said Molly.

  “Just a cookout!” Amanda explained. “For, you know, just the family, but Mr. Jordan would come, too. And Peichi’s parents. And maybe the Baders.” The Baders lived across the street. Ben Bader was Matthew’s age, and the boys were best friends. Mrs. Bader was Matthew’s baby-sitter.

  Dad thought about it. “Well, if it’s just a cookout...”

  Dad and Amanda were so much alike, thought Molly impatiently. So slow! Both needed a million years to make decisions about the most ordinary things.

  Dad took a deep breath and ran his hand through his graying black hair. His blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “So it’s tomorrow?”

  “Uh-huh,” replied the twins.

  “Well, we don’t have much time,” said Dad. “We’ll need to figure out what we’re making, and go to the store. I don’t know how we’ll do that without your mom knowing, though. She’ll wonder where we’re going. And we should decorate the garden a little bit, if we can. So we’ll have to figure out how to keep Mom out of the house the whole day tomorrow.”

  Molly’s face clouded. Uh-oh! This was going to be even trickier than she’d thought. What if the whole thing turned out to be a disaster?

  “What are you giving Mom for her birthday. Dad?” asked Amanda. “A big diamond ring?”

  Dad laughed. “Not exactly,” he said. “She already has one of those, anyway. A little one, that is.”

  “Then give her diamond earrings to go with it!” said Amanda eagerly. “I’ll help you pick them out, okay?”

  “Not this year,” chuckled Dad.

  “Dad, do you even know what you’re giving Mom yet? asked Molly, poking him.

  “Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t!” replied Dad with a smile.

  “That means you don’t!”teased Amanda.

  “Anyway, girls,” said Dad, “that’s my problem. What are you going to make tomorrow? Hot dogs and hamburgers?”

  “And potato salad, and baked beans, and a fruit salad or a green salad—or both—and cake. And we’ll serve ic
e cream, said Molly. “Is that enough?”

  “I think so,” replied Dad. He looked out beyond the girls, like he was looking at something far away.

  “Plus we’ll need tomatoes—and onions—and pickles,” Dad went on. “For the hot dogs and hamburgers...let’s check the fridge to see what we already have. But the first job is to figure out how to keep Mom from finding out!”

  To: qtpie490

  happyface

  From: mooretimes2

  mooretimes2: wuzzup agent qtpie Shawn? How’s the happyface Peichi? Welcome to the Chef Girls’ chat room.

  happyface: hi! How are u?

  qtpie490: hi! What’s “the dish?”

  mooretimes2: the dish is, once again we are on a mission! Operation Surprise Party. Need your help tomorrow bigtime, chef grrrrlz!

  happyface: ok!

  qtpie490: I’m there!

  mooretimes2: one major thing is gonna happen

  qtpie490: huh?

  happyface: wha?

  mooretimes2: Natasha is coming over 2!!!!!!

  qtpie490: -@

  mooretimes2: :-@ is right! talk about a surprise party!

  qtpie490: LOL

  mooretimes2: she called us

  happyface: that’s cool

  qtpie490: hope she’s not mean or weird 2morrow!

  mooretimes2: she won’t B. She probably won’t even show up anyway (sez Amanda!!!)

  happyface: how are u gonna surprise your mom?

  mooretimes2: Dad sez he’s taking her out for brunch, just the 2 of them, then he’s sending her shopping with a gift certificate to her favorite store, so he can help us. Come over at 11:15 SHARP, ok? Party is at 4. Shawn, is your dad coming? We need a cake recipe that’s not 2 hard! Help!

  happyface: Can my parents come, 2?

  mooretimes2: Of course!!!!

  qtpie490: I have a Texas Sheet Cake recipe. Chocolate!Grandma Ruthie makes it every summer, yum. She can e-mail me the recipe 2nite! G-ma’s wired, she’s on e-mail all the time. I’ll bring ingredients.