Into the Mix #4 Page 7

  “Well,” said Peichi, “I guess. But—”

  “I mean, we can take a pretty dress and make it look kind of old, like she’s been selling flowers in it for a year,” Amanda continued. “But it can still look elegant. What do you think? I think it’s such a cool idea. I mean, you’re doing such a great job, but I’m just thinking that we should have some variety.”

  “But Amanda,” said Peichi. She was starting to get angry. “I mean, your costume is almost finished. And we’re starting on the more complicated stuff, like the elegant dresses for the horse race at Ascot, as well as the ball. I’m supposed to help decorate all the big hats.”

  “Well,” said Amanda. “Can’t you just ask Ms. Barlow, at least? I’ve got it all figured out. Just say to her, ‘Ms. Barlow, I’ve been thinking, all the flower sellers look alike. Why don’t we make one of them look like a lady who wasn’t always a flower seller? She’d wear something a little more elegant.”’

  “I don’t know,” said Peichi. She cleared her throat. Why is Amanda doing this to me? she thought. I did such a great job on her costume.

  “Oh, just try it,” said Amanda with a little laugh. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll help you! Okay, repeat after me: ‘You know, Ms. Barlow, I’ve been thinking, all the flower sellers look alike.”’

  Peichi rolled her eyes. “Amanda, I really have to get back to studying now.”

  “Oh, okay,” said Amanda. “I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye.”

  As Peichi hung up the phone, she thought, What’s with this “Repeat after me? Yeah, right, like I’m gonna ask Ms. Barlow if we can change Amanda’s costume! Who does she think she is anyway?

  Chapter 10

  “Flower sellers,” called Ms. Barlow at the start of the next rehearsal. “I’m making some changes to the script.” She passed around some stapled sheets of paper. “The play is running too long,” she explained. “I’m cutting a scene—so I needed to write in some lines for you, to help bridge the scene I’m cutting. Please practice together while I work with the leads up on the stage. I’ll be back later to hear your lines—and your working-class British accents!”

  Amanda and Tessa looked at each other and said, “Yesss!” They quickly gathered with the two other girls playing flower sellers.

  “Hey, look!” said Tessa, pointing to the first page. “There you are, Flower Seller Number Four! And here I am, Flower Seller Number Two.”

  “Wow, I have one, two, three, four lines!” said Amanda, as her eyes scanned down the page. “Cool! I’m glad I’ve been practicing the funny accent! Don’t forget, we have to drop our ‘H’s’.”

  “That’s not ‘awd to do!” Tessa said in the accent.

  “Ey. your accent is not ‘alf bad.” Amanda giggled. She loved talking that way.

  Having lines to speak made Amanda feel a lot better, but it made her want to change her costume more than ever. After rehearsal, Amanda hung around until all of the students had left.

  “Ms. Barlow? Can I ask you a question?” said Amanda.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m running, run-ning to pick up my little darling from the sitter,” she said, “but if you walk very quickly down the hall with me, I’ll be happy to chat! Now, what’s on your mind?”

  “Oh, okay,” said Amanda, her heart sinking. She’d wanted a heart-to-heart chat with Ms. Barlow, sitting down with plenty of time to tell her how the costume just didn’t work.

  Here goes, thought Amanda. “Well, it’s about my costume,” she said.

  “Oh, your costume!” said Ms. Barlow, brightening. “Isn’t it wonderfully dreary? So black! So heavy!”

  “Um—” said Amanda. This wasn’t going the way she’d planned.

  “Wait till you see the little black work boots we found for you at the Goodwill! Oh, they’re perfect! Now, what did you want to ask me about it?”

  “Well, don’t you, um, think that it’s a little too dark?” asked Amanda. “I mean...” She was out of breath now, Ms. Barlow was walking so fast. “I just think maybe it doesn’t go with the character I made up in my head, the one you told us to think about. I made up that my character used to be rich, and so I think I need, you know, a little more color—?” Amanda didn’t even know what she wanted to ask for anymore. Her head was spinning and all she could hear was Ms. Barlow’s heels—click-clack-click-clack!

  “Ah, color! Don’t worry, dear, the flowers you carry in your basket will add color. There! Problem solved! Bye-bye!”

  “Bye,” said Amanda. That’s that Oh, well, at least I have some lines now!

  When Molly got home from school that day, Mrs. Moore was waiting for her with a glass of lemonade—and some crumpled papers on the kitchen table.

  Crumpled papers with red marks all over them. The last two math quizzes.

  “Oh. Hi.” Molly stopped. Her feet felt like they were glued to the floor.

  “I found these under your bed when I washed your sheets,” said Mrs. Moore. Molly, you said you were doing fine in school. Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble in math?”

  Molly didn’t say anything. She shifted uneasily. then stared down at her sneakers. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d be mad.”

  “I’m not mad, Molly, but I am concerned. You’ve never had poor grades before. I can tell that you’re falling behind. You can’t just stuff your bad grades under your bed and hope they’ll go away.”

  Mrs. Moore patted the chair next to her. “Come here, have some lemonade, and let’s talk. I thought you and Amanda did your homework together. She’s not having trouble in math.”

  Molly shook her head. We used to do our homework together, but now we have different teachers, remember? So we have different homework. And Amanda gets impatient sometimes. She’s helped me a little. But...”

  “I see,” said Mom. “Oh, the phone rang a little while ago, and it was a woman who wants you girls to cook for them.”

  “Really?” said Molly. “Someone new?”

  “Yes, a new client. But I gave her the Cheng’s number. I told her that you were unavailable for this job.”

  “Why, Mom?”

  “Molly, I think you know the answer to that question. I’m afraid that until your grades come up, Dish is going to have to take a backseat in your life. I’m not going to let you fail math. And Amanda’s got her hands full, too. Understand?”

  Molly nodded. “Yes, I understand. But that’s, like, the only time we get to see everyone now. Since everyone’s so busy. And I doubt that Peichi and Natasha and Shawn are going to want to do it without us. That’ll be bad for business!”

  But Mom’s mind was made up. Dish was out, at least for now.

  Great, thought Molly. Now all I have is schoolwork and piano lessons.

  Molly and Mrs. Moore spent the rest of the afternoon going over Molly’s quizzes and her homework for the evening. Just as they were finishing up, Amanda walked in the door from rehearsal. The phone rang.

  Amanda grabbed the phone as she walked through the kitchen.

  “Hello? Oh, hi, Natasha, what’s up?” A few moments later, she handed Molly the phone. “Natasha wants to talk to both of us,” she explained. “I’ll get on the other line.”

  “Can I take it, Mom?” asked Molly.

  “Go ahead,” said Mom. “But you and I are going to do some more work after dinner. I want to make sure you really understand this.”

  “Hi,” said Natasha after the twins got on the phone. “I’m calling to see when I can interview you both for my article. It would be nice to get all the Chef Girls together at the same time. How about tomorrow at lunch?”

  “Sure,” said Molly and Amanda at the same time.

  “Good,” said Natasha. “Well, see you in the morning.”

  “Oh,” said Molly, “a new client called here earlier, but Mom gave them Peichi’s number. I guess Peichi will call you. Mom’s not allowing Amanda or me to do Dish for a while. So you and Peichi and Shawn will have to do the job without us, if you want it.”

 
; “Really?” asked Natasha, surprised.

  “Really?” asked Amanda. She looked at Molly. “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” said Molly.

  “I have to get going, anyway,” said Natasha. “You know how my mom is—she doesn’t want me to be on the phone too long. Oh, one more thing. Justin will call you about when he’s going to take our picture.”

  “Great!” said Amanda. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Seconds later, the phone rang again.

  “Hello?” said Amanda. Her face reddened. “Oh, hi, Justin!...You want to take our picture for Natasha’s article, right?” She giggled. “Natasha told us you’d be calling. So. when should we do if?...Oh, it has to be tomorrow? ... Yeah, our kitchen would be the best place to take it ...Great. We’ll have some food out so that it’ll look like we’re cooking. See you tomorrow at eight. We’ll tell the others. Bye.”

  That night, as Mom and Molly went over math problems, Amanda finished studying for her science quiz, then practiced her lines in front of the mirror.

  “Why, I awven’t seen Eliza Doolittle in many a week! She’s a fawncy lady now. She’s forgotten all about us, she as!”

  I’m good at this! thought Amanda. I’m a good actress...Let’s see, what’s the best way to pose? Maybe Justin will take a picture of me in the play, too. I’ll become a big star and Justin will be a famous photographer. He’ll take all my publicily photos for the magazines...

  Later, when Molly came upstairs, Amanda cried, “Molls! Help me learn my lines.”

  “Help me learn my math,” muttered Molly.

  “Later, okay? Here’s the script. Now you say the line before mine, and then I’ll say my line. Get it?”

  “Well, duh, it’s not that hard to figure out, Manda,” retorted Molly. She scanned the script. “Which flower seller are you?”

  “Number four. Okay, ready? Go ahead.”

  “Okay,” said Molly. “Blimey? Where’s Eliza Doolittle been lately?” She put down the script and giggled. “What does ‘blimey’ mean?”

  “It’s just an expression that they used to say in England,” said Amanda. “Maybe they still do.”

  “You don’t know what it means, do you!”

  “Anyway, Molly your accent is all wrong. Say it with the accent. It’ll be a lot more fun. Say it like this: bluymee!”

  But hearing that made Molly crack up, and then she was useless to Amanda.

  The next day at lunch, the girls met up with Natasha.

  “Guess what!” Natasha said to the twins and Peichi. She pulled a pen and a pad out of her bag. “After I turn in this article, I’m going to write an article about the play!”

  “That’s great! Make sure you put in something about flower seller number four!” Amanda said. “And you can interview me again, too!”

  Molly rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “You really must like working on the paper. Did you have to talk your mom into letting you do it?”

  Natasha shrugged. “No, she was actually cool about it. I never know what she’s going to be cool about, or not. Anyway, I like going to the meetings and coming up with ideas for stories. I’ll be coming to watch some rehearsals. With a photographer. Maybe Justin.

  Amanda pictured herself on stage, saying her lines, and Justin snapping picture after picture.

  “Anyway, here goes! My first interview!” said Natasha. “Chef Girls, what do you think of the cafeteria food? No, that’s a joke. I’m not really putting that in there.”

  “Good,” said Molly, “because there isn’t much to say about it.”

  “Okay, seriously now,” said Natasha. “Wait, where’s Shawn? I thought I saw her heading over here.”

  The girls turned their heads. Shawn had been snagged by Angie. The girls tried to get her attention. Angie saw what they were doing, but she didn’t bother to tell Shawn, who was facing away from them.

  “Great,” groaned Natasha. “Oh, well. I guess she forgot.”

  I’m not going over there to get her, thought Amanda. No way.

  Natasha felt the same way. “I’ll just have to interview her later,” she said.

  “Okay, ask us some questions!” said Peichi eagerly. “Interview us! Let’s see you in action!”

  Natasha laughed. “Okay. What do you like most about Dish?”

  “That’s easy,” replied Molly. “It’s so fun when we’re all working in the kitchen together.”

  “I like figuring out what we’re going to make for the client,” said Peichi. “And then deciding who gets to work on what. And knowing we only have one day to do all the cooking!”

  “I like delivering it to the clients, and seeing their faces when they open the box of our delicious food,” said Amanda.

  “Ohmygosh!” cried Peichi suddenly, checking her watch. “I forgot that I promised Ms. Barlow I’d come by the costume room for a few minutes at the end of lunch. I have to hurry up and eat. But, Natasha. I’ll see you tonight at the photo shoot and we can talk more. Okay?”

  “Oh, okay,” said Natasha. She looked disappointed.

  “I’m sorry,” said Peichi, as she quickly finished the last of her sloppy joe.

  “Keep going,” Molly said to Natasha.

  “Okay,” Natasha replied. “Um, do you consider Dish a success?”

  Molly and Amanda looked at each other and giggled. “A success? That sounds so grown-up,” said Amanda.

  “But I guess you could say it is!” said Molly. “Because the first job we did made the client happy, and she told a friend about us. And some people have asked us to cook for them more than once.”

  “Good,” said Natasha. “How do you decide what to cook?”

  “Well,” said Molly, “we pretty much cook the same stuff for most people. And it has to be food that will keep for a few days. Sometimes people have requests, and if we think we can do what they request, we will. But we’ve also told people that we don’t know how to make certain things they want.”

  “Whose idea was it to have the business?” asked Natasha.

  “It wasn’t like someone said, Hey. let’s have our own business,”’ said Molly. “I was the one who wanted to cook dinner for our family one night, and it was our mom’s idea to cook for our neighbors when their kitchen caught on fire.”

  “And it was my idea to start a cooking club,” said Amanda. “Then Shawn thought of earning money cooking for busy people. So the idea just came together.”

  “Great!” said Natasha. “What are your plans for Dish?”

  Molly sighed. “Well, as you know, I can’t do Dish until my grades come up. And Amanda’s too busy.” Her eyes widened. “Natasha, you’re not going to print that in the article, are you? The part about my grades?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Natasha with a laugh. I won’t.”

  “And we turned down that customer that other day,” Amanda reminded the girls.

  “Right,” said Natasha. “Without the two of you to help, and because we’re all so busy now, Peichi, Shawn, and I didn’t think we could do it.”

  Molly sighed. “Well, we’ll probably never hear from her again. Anyway, I guess you could write that Dish is on the back burner for a few months while we adjust to school. Get it? ‘Back burner?”

  “Ha ha,” said Natasha and Amanda, rolling their eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t really have to say anything about that,” said Natasha. “I’ll just say that we only do it when we have time. Thanks! This was great. I only have a few days to write this.” She grinned and added, “The paper’s coming out this Friday! Can you believe it?”

  “Really?” asked Amanda. “That’s not much time.” I’ve never seen Natasha so excited about something, she thought.

  “Yes, but that’s like a real newspaper,” Natasha pointed out. “Real reporters don’t get much time. So I guess it’s good experience. Well, see you tonight.”

  “Good luck!” said Molly.

  “I can’t wait to see your article,” said Amanda. “It’s so e
xciting for all of us! Oh, by the way, maybe you should just mention that I’m also in the cast of My Fair Lady!”

  Gimme a break, thought Molly.

  “Oh. Well, I’ll think about it,” said Natasha.

  Later, as Molly and Amanda walked home from school together. Molly said, “Natasha seems different. In a good way.

  “Yeah,” said Amanda. “She seems happier...um, more—”

  “Sure of herself,” said Molly.

  “Right, she’s more sure of herself.”

  I wish I were feeling more like that, thought Molly. I’d better get my grades up, fast.

  The photo shoot that night was a blast. The girls wore the chefs aprons that they’d gotten for graduating from their summer cooking class.

  “I think I’ll take a few photos of you doing things separately, and then a group shot,” announced Justin. “Okay? Peichi, pretend to be chopping the onion... Natasha. stand here and measure the flour. Molly. you can operate the mixer. Amanda, pretend you’re stirring something at the stove. Shawn, you can break an egg into a bowl.”

  Justin took several pictures of each of the girls, and then posed them at the kitchen island for the group shot.

  Afterward, everyone had a soda and talked about school before going home.

  “So, are you ready for another quiz in Spontak’s class?” Justin asked Molly.

  Molly looked down. “I hope so. But I’m definitely having some trouble in that class! How are you doing?”

  “Pretty well,” said Justin. “You know, there’s a tutoring program at school. Seventh- or eighth-graders sign up to be tutors.”