Green Algae and Bubble Gum Wars (14 page)

Katani shot over to the window and squeezed next to Patrice. There in her very own garage, on her very own property, chatting with her very own
dad
, was the one and only
Reggie DeWitt
. “I'll see about that…,” she grumbled as she stormed out of the house.

“Where are you going, Katani?” Kelley called after her. “She's in a very peculiar mood!” she remarked to Patrice.

Patrice smiled. “Very peculiar indeed.”

“Just what do you think you're doing, Reggie?” Katani demanded, marching into the garage with her arms crossed tensely across her chest.

“Yo yo, Kgirl, 'sup holmes?” Reggie greeted her.

Katani clenched her fists. She'd had about enough of the new Reggie. She turned to her father. “Dad, what's going on here?”

Mr. Summers looked confused. “Well, young Reggie here expressed a keen interest in learning the nuts and bolts of—”

“
Ahem
,” Reggie coughed.

“Oh, right. No revealing the top-secret science project.” Mr. Summers chuckled.

Katani looked appalled. “How do you two even
know
each other?”

Reggie spoke up, sounding slightly more like his normal self. “I'm a big fan of your father's work. He was the one who did the wiring for the new movie theater downtown. I
wanted to work with the best, so I called the theater and they referred me to Mr. Summers…your dad, I mean.”

“Ever since I got my big commission for the new gum factory, I've been able to cut out a lot of my smaller jobs to spend more time at home. And after all,” her dad continued bashfully, “he is my only electricity fan to date. But don't worry, scout—I'll still have plenty of time to give you a hand with your project, too. You don't mind, do you?”

Katani opened her mouth, ready to yell that she
did
mind, that she couldn't stand Reggie DeWitt, and she wanted nothing more than for him to march his baggy jeans and his phony personality out of her garage, off of her property, and
away from her dad
. But instead, she bit her lip and uttered with all the strength she could possibly muster, “No. No problem. I'm gonna go start my homework.” She ran over and kissed her dad on the cheek. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too, princess.”

Katani did her most confident, model walk—she had walked the runway once in New York—right out of the garage.

“Hey, Katani!” Reggie called after her.

She froze and slowly turned around.

“You forgot your scarf in the science room yesterday.” Reggie waved the yellow silk in the air.

Katani hated feeling forgetful or anything less than her usual pulled-together self, so it didn't help that she had to walk all the way back across the garage to retrieve the scarf. Plus, her father noted, “That's very nice of you, Reggie.”

“So…,” Patrice probed when she returned. “What's the deal with McCutie?”

“You can't be serious,” Katani said, disgusted. “Reggie DeWitt is so…so…annoying.”

Patrice threw back her head and began to laugh hysterically.

“What?” Katani cried. “What's so funny?”

“Oh…nothing.”

Katani squinted. “You can't do that. You have to tell me. What?”

Patrice wiped a laughter tear out of the corner of her eye. “It's just either you have like, a major crush on that kid, or Kelley's totally right…you
are
peculiar!”

M
aeve was being haunted, not by a ghost, but by the image of Bailey. Wherever she went, whatever she did, she saw Matt's girlfriend. She couldn't even enjoy wearing her favorite pink ensembles, because all she could think about was Matt telling her, “I really couldn't care less about clothes.”

Maeve marched around her bedroom, glaring at her reflection in her dresser mirror. “What does
she
have that I don't have?” Maeve wondered aloud. Matt had said that Bailey was thoughtful. “I'm thoughtful too,” Maeve attested, pushing away the nagging guilt that she'd behaved less than thoughtfully on a number of occasions that week.

After an hour of pacing and serious contemplation, Maeve finally arrived at the conclusion that there was only one reasonable explanation for Matt choosing Bailey over her, and that was that Bailey was a sophisticated woman while she, Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, was…not.

She wondered what she would look like when she was
Bailey's age. Maeve studied her face in the mirror and suddenly had an idea. She ran into Ms. Kaplan's room and returned with her mother's charcoal-colored eye liner and max-volume mascara. Maeve had a little makeup collection of her own, but it had been decided by the higher powers (her parents) that she was much too young for eyeliner and mascara.

With all the precision she could muster, Maeve very carefully outlined her big, blue eyes and combed the gooey black mascara through her long lashes. “Wow!” she breathed as she stared, pleased, at the result. “Hello, Mr. Agent. I'd love to go to LA and star in your zabillion dollar movie. Of course, I have to finish up my important scientific research on the importance of organically grown daffodils. Can you wait for me?” She dusted her cheeks with blush, smeared on dark red lipstick, and tied back her hair with a big silver clip.

Maeve waltzed over to her big teddy bear sitting on the chair in the corner of her room. “Why, hello, Caleb. Why of course I'll be going to Bedazzle's after the Golden Globes. You'd like to go with me? Well, D-Cap did ask me first, but I'm still free for the Oscars if you'd like to—” Maeve stopped suddenly as she heard a quiet giggling noise coming from the hallway.

She quickly dashed over to the door and opened it, knocking over Sam, who'd been perched outside with his eye glued to her keyhole. “
Ow
! Maeve!”

“
Sam
! Were you
spying
on me?” she demanded.
“Mom! Sam's teasing me again!”

“Was not!
Mom, Maeve is lying to you
!”

Maeve knew there really was no worse sound than a mother thudding down the hall to deal with her screaming
children. Maeve and Sam were both trembling as they realized their mistake. “What is going on here? Sam, it's nine o'clock. Why aren't you in bed?”

Ooo, two points for me!
Maeve cheered silently. Sam was up past his bedtime.

“Um…um…Maeve stole your makeup and woke me up.”

“Stop it, Sam!” Maeve shrieked, batting her brother's hands away as he grabbed the shimmery scarf she had draped over her shoulders. Her brother was being so annoying that Maeve wanted to scream.

“And Maeve,” Ms. Kaplan put her hands on her hips, “what's going on with this atrocious stage makeup look?”

“You mean I look like I belong onstage?” asked Maeve hopefully.

“No, dear. It's not a compliment. You have got on way
waaaay
too much makeup.”

“Oh.” Maeve felt a little sorry for herself, but in one second had recollected her bearings and remembered, “But Mom, Sam was
spying
on me!”

Ms. Kaplan raised her arms in the air and cried, “
Enough!
Sam, in bed
now
. And by the way, young man, if you don't stop torturing your sister, you're grounded for the whole month…and I mean it! Maeve,” Ms. Kaplan opened the door to Maeve's bedroom and ushered her inside, “young lady, you're coming with me.”

Maeve wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but she followed her mother into the room. Ms. Kaplan sat on the bed and motioned for Maeve to do the same. “Okay. So what's wrong, sweetie?”

“Nothing. Why?”

Ms. Kaplan squinted. “You've been moping around this house for days. Honestly, you made more noise before you could even talk, Maeve. Now be honest with me. Is it school…friends…parties? Are you sneaking out of here to go to a party?”

Maeve furiously shook her head. “No! No way, Mom.”

“Well, I don't see any other explanation for this,” she waved her hand in front of Maeve's overly decorated face and continued, “unless…,”

“Unless, what?”

Ms. Kaplan stroked her daughter's face and asked softly, “Are you in love?”

Maeve's lower lip began to tremble. “I'm not in love,” she squeaked, and at that moment she couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into tears. “I'm—I'm
completely heartbroken
!” Maeve began to sob and collapsed into her mother's lap.

Ms. Kaplan reached out and patted Maeve's back. “Shh…shh…there, there, sweetie. I feel terrible…I didn't even know you had a boyfriend.”

Maeve sat up and blubbered, “That's 'cause I never did!” Then she threw herself back down.

“You want to talk about it?” asked Ms. Kaplan.

“No,” Maeve heaved. “Well, maybe. You see, there's this guy. And he's a little bit older…actually quite a bit older than me. And I thought he really liked me, you know? 'Cause he was always extra nice to me, and he even had this nickname for me—Mix-Master-Curl. Isn't that cute?”

“This guy,” began Ms. Kaplan, “he wouldn't happen to be a certain”—she raised an eyebrow—“tutor?”

Maeve breathed a deep sigh. “Yes.”

“So all this makeup and”—Maeve's mother looked at the discarded shimmery scarf on the floor—“…stuff. This was just to look older?”

Maeve nodded. “Matt told me that he—he—he—” Her voice started to quake and then she wailed, “has a”—
sniff, sniff
—“
girlfriend
.” Maeve cried as her mother stroked her back. “It's this college girl…she's totally unglamorous and like, way into science, and he thinks she just s-s-super a-awesome and I'm j-just s-s-so sad!”

Maeve's mother leaned over and plucked a tissue out of Maeve's pink, fuzzy tissue box. “Here, honey. You got a little schmutz.” She directed Maeve to her reflection in the mirror, and Maeve saw that all the eyeliner and mascara that she'd so tenderly applied was now running down her cheeks in two thick, black streaks.

Maeve screamed, “Aaah! I look horrible! No wonder Matt doesn't like me….
I'm a hideous mess!
”

Ms. Kaplan had to stifle a small giggle. Even in her daughter's hour of despair, she still managed to transform the scene into something fit for the silver screen.

“To think,” Maeve moaned as she wiped the black gunk off her face, “I was so”—
sniff, sniff
—“sure he was my”—
sniff, sniff
—“
soul mate
!”

“Maeve, did I ever tell you about my first crush?” asked Ms. Kaplan in a soft voice.

“You mean Dad?” asked Maeve. Even though her parents were separated, Maeve knew that when they got married they were very much in love.

Ms. Kaplan blushed and replied, “No,
before
your father.
You know, when I was a girl, I was a lot like you in many ways. I remember—I must've been about eleven—and I was completely head over heels for Derek Duncan…the most handsome cowboy in the world.”

Maeve's eye's widened. “Whoa…
you knew a cowboy
?” she gasped.

Ms. Kaplan laughed. “Well no, not personally. He was actually the star of my favorite Western soap opera,
Trouble Canyon
. I knew every episode by heart. Every Tuesday I'd run all the way home from school to watch Derek Duncan steal fair maidens' hearts and rustle up the bad guys in the saloon…oh and you should have seen him ride his black stallion, Trusty Rusty. Now
that
was television.”

“Trusty Rusty?” Maeve raised an eyebrow. “
Really
, Mom!”

Ms. Kaplan shrugged. “All right, maybe it was a little cheesy. But at the time, Derek Duncan meant everything to me. I remember, I used to write Carol Gwendolyn Duncan and Mrs. Carol Gwendolyn Duncan on my notebook over and over again. Gosh, I can only imagine what my teachers thought.”

“But Mom, Gwendolyn's not even your middle name!” Maeve pointed out.

“I know, but when I was eleven, I wished it were Gwendolyn. Still do, to be honest with you. Anyway, one day the cover of
Soap Opera Soup
—that was my favorite magazine—announced that Derek Duncan had in
real life
married his costar Serena Fallon. I was devastated…totally, completely heartbroken. I played sick from school for three days and told my mom I had a terrible cold, because my eyes were
so red and puffy. Really I'd been crying nonstop. Finally my mom realized what was going on. We had a big sit-down and she told me that Derek Duncan was a dream-crush, the kind you can always have in your dreams or your imagination as a…let's say…an example of what you might eventually be looking for. I think, Maeve, that a dream-crush would be the perfect way to describe Matt for you. He's a very nice boy…the kind you might like someday…when you're much older.”

“You know what, Mom?” said Maeve, sniffling. “I think you might be right. I sort of thought that even if Matt and I didn't, like, you know, date
now
he'd wait for me to get a little bit older and
then
we'd date. But now that I think about it, Matt gets way more excited about math and science than I could ever be. I mean, even
I'm
not that good of an actress—ya know what I mean?”

Ms. Kaplan laughed. “Different strokes for different folks.”

“Bailey really likes science.” Maeve sniffled. “She helped me start my science project this weekend.”

“And Bailey is Matt's…,”

“Girlfriend,” they both said at once. And then mother and daughter burst out laughing. Maeve couldn't believe how much better a little giggling could make her feel.

“Oh, Maeve, it's okay to feel heartbroken. It's just another part of growing up.”

Maeve smiled. “I guess I've been doing a lot of that lately.”

Ms. Kaplan nodded. “Uh-huh. And look at it this way—it's a lot easier to get over a dream-crush. Trust me, I have
complete faith that you will have no problemo when it comes to romance.”

Maeve's eyes perked up. “Really?”

“Absolutely!” Ms. Kaplan assured and with a wink added, “As long as you find someone
else
to do your makeup. Now,” she glanced at the door, “I was going to wait for a special occasion to give these to you, but I think your first heartbreak is as good a time as any. I'll be right back.” She turned to leave and then, looking back, added, “And Maeve…you really are growing up.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Matt's girlfriend Bailey…” Maeve put her hand to her heart and let out a deep breath at hearing her own voice speak the name “Bailey.”

“Bailey what, honey?” Her mother looked down at her watch.

“Bailey thinks I have the soul of a botanist.”

“Honey.” Her mother grinned. “You have only just begun to discover your talents.”

When her mother was gone, Maeve flopped back on her fluffy pink pillows and stared at the ceiling for a minute, taking a moment to imagine herself as a famous (and famously glamorous) botanist, sashaying down rows of magnificent blooms in a long, pink gown. Then she sighed, sat up, and flipped open her laptop. Time to get down to plant business.

When Maeve finally closed her eyes that evening, it wasn't Matt she dreamt of. Rather, it was large, pink peonies, and daffodils…sunny yellow and glorious white…all fertilized with Maeve's own Pinkalicious, all-organic fertilizer!