Green Algae and Bubble Gum Wars (8 page)

BOOK: Green Algae and Bubble Gum Wars
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“Definitely not,” Ms. Kaplan replied, signaling for Maeve to follow her.

“There's a free gift…,” the girl hollered behind them.

“Ooh, free gift, Mom! I just
love
free gifts. Can't we just—”

“Don't be fooled, honey. There's no such thing as a free gift,” the ever-practical Ms. Kaplan informed her daughter. “And besides, that sales girl was a little rude.”

“But if you bought that perfume and gave the gift to me, then it's free…for me. See? I'm a genius,” Maeve reasoned with a giggle as she followed her mother up the escalator into the lingerie department.

In front of Maeve stretched a silky white wonderland. Two mannequins wearing beautiful lacy night gowns and curly blonde wigs welcomed the shoppers to the lingerie department.

“Wow.” Maeve breathed. “Toto, we are sooooo not in Kansas anymore.” Maeve gulped. She knew that bras came
in different styles, but she had no idea there were quite so many. On past shopping trips she'd never paid much attention. Now, the aisles of bras seemed to go on forever. They had a bra for every color of the rainbow! Maeve ran right over to a rack of bras in pomegranate pink.

“I found it, Mom,” Maeve called. “This is the one.”

Ms. Kaplan shook her head. “No way, kiddo.”

“But Moooom…”

“Look, Maeve. I know you love pink. But that is not appropriate.”

Maeve opened her mouth to protest, but then she realized her mother was probably right.

“Look. I'm going to go ask a saleslady what bras would be best for someone who's still developing.”


Mom!
” Maeve groaned. She hated that word—developing. She was a person, not a photograph.

“Why don't you take a look around and try—I mean it, Maeve—try to find something reasonable,” Ms. Kaplan suggested. As she walked away, Maeve heard her mother sigh. “My little girl is growing up!”

As much as Maeve appreciated her mother's wisdom, she was relieved to have a little time alone to shop. Her mother's idea of reasonable and her idea of reasonable were very different things. As she was deciding which way to wander first, she suddenly heard a melodious voice behind her.

“Oh, it's no problem,” the woman said smoothly. “I can take that for you, miss.” As Maeve turned around, she immediately noticed the woman's outfit. Hair in a sleek French twist, shiny silk blouse paired with a black pencil skirt, peep-toe black pumps, and matching gold earrings and long necklace.
She looked the way movie stars did when they lunched with producers. Maeve was impressed.

She walked over as the woman gracefully handed a bag to the customer, then turned her attention to Maeve and smiled. “I'm Marlena. Let me guess. You're looking for a pretty bra, am I right?”

“Yes, that's exactly right!” Maeve squeaked, feeling a little overwhelmed but also super excited. This Marlena woman looked like she knew what she was talking about when it came to lingerie.

“And practical,” Ms. Kaplan added, walking over.

“Yes, of course,” Marlena purred. “Here we are.” She directed Maeve and her mother to a rack full of bras covered in lace and ribbons. Maeve thought that, hanging all together like that, they looked like one big spiderweb. “The perfect bra for a high-fashion young lady like you. Chic, sophisticated, glamorous lace for miles…”

Maeve's mother looked shocked. “No. No. No. We're looking for something less…um…sophisticated. I just don't think that's going to work,” Ms. Kaplan said. “Don't you have anything…you know…white? Something a little more conservative?”

“White!” Marlena exclaimed. “I think my coworker, Connie, can help you with a sports bra, if you like.” She spun around and charged after a lady carrying a leopard-print bag the size of a suitcase.

“It doesn't have to be white!” Maeve called after her, but Marlena was gone. Maeve pouted. “I sort of liked that last one…”

Ms. Kaplan gave her a look. “Seriously, Maeve. You knew
that was as absurd as I did—that bra might as well have been made of plastic wrap!” Maeve looked at her mom and they burst out laughing together.

Suddenly, a monotone voice sounded behind them. “May I help you?” The woman tapped her name tag. “So. You want something white and sporty?”

Maeve worked up her courage and spoke. “Well, it doesn't have to be white. I think pink would be nice, too…”

Connie, the expert on sports bras, turned and gestured for them to follow her. “This way, ladies.”

Maeve and her mother practically ran after Connie, who was moving very quickly down the aisles. Finally, she stopped beside a rack full of white sports bras…very plain white sports bras.

Maeve cringed and looked up to see her mother making the exact same face.
Wow,
thought Maeve.
If these bras are too ugly for my mom, they must be seriously bad!

“It looks better on,” Connie offered tonelessly.

“Um…thanks, Connie,” Ms. Kaplan said politely. “But I think we'll take it from here and just look around.”

Connie shrugged and said, “I'll be over there,” and wandered off toward the register.

“Mom, I think that lady needs a personality adjustment!” Maeve whispered, watching Connie walk away.

“Maeve!” her mother scolded. Then she admitted, “She did seem a bit…subdued.”

Maeve sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She was feeling frustrated and disappointed. “Maybe we should just go, Mom. I don't think we're going to find anything here.”

“Oh, let's not give up just yet.”

“But I feel like Goldilocks, Mom! Those first bras were way too fancy…then that one Connie showed us was just…ugh.” She shivered a little, thinking about the extreme ugliness of that bra. “Will I ever find one that's just right?”

Ms. Kaplan smiled at her dramatic daughter. “I think you will, Maeve. There's bound to be something perfect among these hundreds,” she said as she gestured at the rows of bras.

Maeve stared at the sea of “lingerie” around her and suddenly felt too worn down to shop, which was bad…especially for Maeve. Disappointed, she followed her mother around the store like a sad puppy as Ms. Kaplan haphazardly pulled off anything that looked like it could possibly fit her daughter. “Here,” Ms. Kaplan said, thrusting a pile of fabric at Maeve. “Try these on to start, and I'll meet you in the dressing room.”

Maeve nodded wordlessly and shuffled into the ladies room, feeling Connie's weird eyes upon her as she passed.
Awkward!
Maeve thought with a shudder.

She slipped into a dressing room and got to work. Unfortunately, none of the bras was at all acceptable on Maeve's cute-o-meter. They weren't as bad as Connie's pick, but they were all just so
ordinary.
She slumped down on the stool in the dressing room in defeat, kicking the pile of bras on the floor as she swung her legs back and forth.

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice coming from the changing room beside her. “He's so cute, and so nice…but I just can't figure out if he likes me or not!”

Maeve gasped. It was Elena Maria.

“Are you kidding me? Of course he likes you! Whenever
you walk by he turns bright red and can barely even speak. I think it's adorable,” replied another girl.

“Well, even if he did like me, it's not like there's anything I can do about it…Jimmy would flip.”

Maeve, who did not want to be caught listening, quickly gathered up her clothes and tried to run back out of the changing room unseen. Unfortunately, this just didn't seem to be a lucky day for her.

“Maeve! Wh-what are you doing here!” Elena Maria cried.

Busted!
Maeve slowly turned around to meet Elena Maria's eyes. She recognized the girl with her as one of Elena Maria's best friends, Cammy Dooley. Cammy was known as a little bit of a gossip anyway, which made Maeve feel not quite as bad for accidentally listening in.

Maeve didn't know what was worse—being caught with an armful of bras, or being caught listening to her best friend's older sister's private conversation. “I was just. You know. Shopping…” Her cheeks felt very warm.

Elena Maria looked around, and Maeve noticed that her cheeks were burning too. “Did you, um, hear what we were talking about?”

“Well, duh, Elena! She was right there…,” Cammy pointed out.

“Maeve…” A slow smile crept into the corner of Elena Maria's mouth. “Are you…
bra shopping
?”

There was no denying the mountain of bras in Maeve's arms. “Sorta, kinda, yeah,” Maeve admitted. “This is actually my first time,” she added shyly.

“No way! How's it going?” asked Elena Maria.

Maeve shook her head. “Not so good. My mom's
somewhere around here, trying to help, I guess. But, Elena, ugh, our taste is just so not the same!”

Elena Maria nodded. “It was the same with my mom. But all the preteen bras are usually tucked away towards the back and some are mixed in with some of the sports bras. No one tells the mothers that. Now, check these out!” Elena Maria and Cammy led the way through several aisles to a rack of bras near the back, which Maeve deemed absolutely perfect.

Maeve selected some bras in a few different sizes and tried them on in a flash. She ran out of the dressing room with a huge smile pasted to her face. “Miracle of miracles!” Maeve exclaimed, quoting a song from
Fiddler on the Roof
—one of her absolute favorite musicals. “I found some that fit and are super cute! And they're on sale too. Buy one get one free. My mom is going to be soooo happy.”

Elena Maria offered Maeve a good-natured smile. “Well, I'm happy to help. Will you just promise me one thing?”

“Sure,” Maeve replied. “Anything.”

“Um, just don't mention to the BSG what you heard us talking about in the dressing room…I'd be really embarrassed…”

Maeve put her hand over her heart. “Absolutely. You have my word. And…um…can you keep it private about seeing me here, either? I haven't exactly told them about…you know…getting a bra, yet.”

Elena Maria extended her pinky for a good, old-fashioned pinky swear. The girls locked fingers and Elena Maria assured her, “Don't worry for an instant, Maeve. Your secret's safe with me!”

As Maeve waved good-bye to the two older girls, she
couldn't help envying Isabel. How lucky she was to have such a cool, knowledgeable older sister.

Ms. Kaplan and Maeve were very quiet as they left the department store with their bag. Maeve was thrilled that her mother insisted on a new nightgown, too—what an unexpected treat!

“Now that wasn't too painful, right, sweetie?” asked Ms. Kaplan as they pulled out of the mall parking lot.

“Not even a little bit,” Maeve agreed. “Thank you for everything, Mom. You're the best.” Maeve gave her mother's hand a squeeze, but Ms. Kaplan didn't say anything back. Instead she turned on the radio and started making a little squeaking noise as the music blared over the speakers. It wasn't until Maeve noticed that her mom was dabbing her eyes with the wrist of her sweater that Maeve realized her mother was crying!

“Mom…” Maeve began. “Are you okay?”

Ms. Kaplan sniffled. “I'm fine, sweetie. But I feel like just yesterday you were throwing spaghetti noodles at me and learning how to walk.”

Maeve smiled. “If it helps, I can still throw spaghetti noodles at you…”

Ms. Kaplan snorted out a laugh as the music shifted to the Beatles. It was one of Maeve's favorites: “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da.” Maeve wondered why she had never noticed the chorus before, which went “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, life goes on…”

Life
does
go on,
Maeve thought.
I really
am
growing up
. She and her mother sang the song at the top of their lungs all the way home. Maeve had to admit—it had turned out to be a perfectly wonderful day.

CHAPTER
8
The Green Machine

W
hen Maeve walked into school the next day, she couldn't help feeling a little nervous about her secret. She wondered if people could tell that underneath her crisp white blouse and pink plaid skirt she was wearing a bra for the first time ever! What in the world would the BSG say if they only knew? But she quickly learned that the BSG had things on their minds besides the great MK-T's underwear status.

“Did you hear the news? Mrs. Fields just called an assembly in the gym!” Avery announced, grabbing Maeve by the elbow.

“An assembly! Is everything all right?” Maeve asked, suddenly feeling a bit of panic.

“Well, we aren't supposed to know anything.” Charlotte grinned.

“You can blame me for spilling the beans,” Katani admitted. “Everything is fine. Just fine. But the assembly's about the science fair.”

Maeve jumped up and down and clapped excitedly. “No way! Does that mean what I think it means?” she cried, following the swarm of students into the auditorium. Inside, the big room had been decorated to look sort of like a tropical rain forest—complete with five huge papier-mâché birds. “Balloons and cupcakes! This place looks incredible!” Maeve gushed, recognizing one of her friends' handiwork immediately. “Did you have something to do with this, Missy?” Maeve asked, jokingly wagging her finger at Isabel.

Isabel giggled. “Guilty as charged. It would have been better too…but the whole thing was kind of last minute. A bunch of kids helped.”

“Including me,” proudly added Katani. Kgirl and Isabel's creative forces combined were truly unstoppable.

Once the students were settled in their seats, Mrs. Fields wasted no time. “The faculty at Abigail Adams Junior High is pleased to announce that this year, for the first time ever, we are hosting a science fair that is one hundred percent environmentally oriented!”

The BSG looked around at the enthusiastic faces around them and felt a wash of excitement pass over them as the whole auditorium erupted in applause.

“Thanks to the efforts of everyone who signed a petition, put together by a motivated group of students known as…” Mrs. Fields cleared her throat and said in a loud, clear voice, “
The Green Machine!

The girls made a link with their hands and gave one another a tight squeeze. Charlotte pondered how nice it was that her friends had reached a point where they could totally communicate everything they were feeling without even
using words. That was truly something special, and one of the many things she loved about being BFFs with the BSG.

“I am also happy to tell you all that anyone—even teachers—who would like to join the Green Machine movement is welcome to sign up. We have given information sheets—printed on recycled paper, of course—to every homeroom teacher,” said Mrs. Fields. The room filled with confused whispers, and Mrs. Fields quickly tapped the microphone to clarify. “Allow me to explain. All students must put together a science fair project which has some sort of environmental theme.
But
—if you would like to go above and beyond, that is, help organize and spearhead the science fair, the Green Machine will gladly be taking on more members, which will count as an after school activity…as well as extra credit.”

Now the whispering got even louder. The BSG heard some of their fellow classmates from Ms. R's room getting especially excited. “Extra credit? For doing something I already love?” Betsy Fitzgerald, the resident class overachiever, was murmuring to Nick Montoya. “Can you imagine how fabulous this will look on my résumé?”

Nick laughed, but nodded in agreement. “I love doing stuff outside anyway, and I mean, I could totally use the extra credit. This Green Machine thing rocks!” he added, quickly glancing at Charlotte.

Maeve raised her eyebrows at Charlotte, who immediately looked down with rosy cheeks. Even though Maeve knew Nick Montoya loved being outside playing sports, she also knew he would do just about anything to get closer to Charlotte Ramsey.

“Anyone who would like to join the Green Machine is
invited on the stage for a very special cheer,” Mrs. Fields called.

Avery jumped up with a huge grin, pulled Katani to her feet, and started dragging her toward the stage without looking back. Katani gave her friends a desperate glance. “Will you guys come up with us? Avery and I sort of already promised my grandma…”

There was probably a time when Charlotte would have been way too bashful to get up on stage and do anything, especially with her track record for humiliating moments. But as the rest of the BSG rose from their seats, she was surprised that she didn't even have to think twice about the whole thing. In fact, other groups of kids were getting up too[ ]…including Anna and Joline.

As everyone lined up on stage, a drumming noise began to grow louder and louder from the outside hallway. Suddenly, the doors burst open. Maeve shrieked and covered her mouth as the junior high school football team marched in…all wearing matching T-shirts with pictures of green algae on them.

Once again, Maeve turned towards Isabel, who looked down shyly. “What can I say? I had a little extra time on my hands this weekend to come up with a design. I was totally inspired by Emily Sullivan's algae. And it's printed with soy ink!”

Katani beamed. “I had the T-shirts made at this great little shop I know. Think they're cotton? Nope—bamboo! Really. Bamboo is amazing. It grows really fast, without pesticides or chemicals, plus it's a hundred percent biodegradable. As soon as I told the people at the shop that it was for our school
science fair, they donated as many as we needed!” There was no doubt about it—Kgirl was a fashion enterprising genius.

The AAJH football team was acting really goofy and obviously having tons of fun as they conga-ed down the center of the auditorium to a marine style rhythm, shouting, “Embrace the Green, embrace the Green Machine!” It wasn't long before the entire room had joined in the catchy chant. It was official: Abigail Adams had whole-heartedly embraced the Green! And at the root of it all was the BSG. The girls felt like in two seconds flat they'd nearly be bursting with pride!

In science class later that day, the momentum for the science fair was even stronger. Near the end of class, Mr. Moore, the girls' science teacher, passed out informational sheets printed on the back of old worksheets—Mr. Moore was totally into recycling—and told the class that they should start thinking about their projects.

“This is a revolutionary day for Abigail Adams, class. Did you hear me? Revoluuuutionary!” He sang in a silly voice, rolling his R's as the class giggled and rolled their eyes. Maeve thought Mr. Moore should join a theater group. Then he got right down to business, explaining the rules.

“Each student should choose an environmental topic that he or she is passionate about—which, judging by the enthusiasm shown at assembly today, I assume will not be difficult. Be sure to use as many recycled materials as possible in your presentations. And if you need any help, of course I am always available for consultation.”

The bell rang then and Maeve started gathering her things, listening to her friends talk about their project plans. “I'm going to talk to Miss Pierce about my project tonight,” Charlotte was saying. “She'll probably have lots of good ideas. I feel so lucky to have a real, live scientist living right in the same house with me!”

Maeve was so relieved that Mr. Moore was willing to help them. Even though Maeve had Matt (the adorable certified science geek) to help her out, it was always reassuring to know that her teachers had her back.

“You know what, BSG?” Maeve said, draping her arms around Avery's and Charlotte's shoulders. “This science project is going to be…I dunno…fun!”

Sleepless in Scienceville

It was eleven o'clock at night, and everyone in the Summers household was sound asleep in bed. Well…almost everyone. Katani was still wide awake, tossing and turning. She had gone to bed more than an hour and a half before, but soon found sleeping impossible. How was she supposed to doze off to dreamland when her head was busy pumping out a million ideas a minute about the upcoming science fair? Katani didn't know what made her giddier: planning a line of clothing for her future Kgirl Enterprises or having an exciting assignment like the environmental science fair project to plan.

Right now, however, science was the only thing on her mind. She wanted her project to be totally off the hook. She wanted it to be mind-blowing. And she wanted it to impact the environment in a very real way. All she needed was the perfect idea. The question was…what?

Katani just couldn't take it anymore and batted down her covers, careful not to wake Kelley, who was sleeping soundly
in the other twin bed. Katani threw on her terry cloth bathrobe, which she had modified by sewing on sparkly beads, tucked her feet into her slippers, and tiptoed out of the room.

Katani always felt lucky to have the parents she did, but at this moment in time she felt particularly lucky to have a father who was an electrician. Somewhere in his massive collection of tools and supplies, her father would certainly have the makings for Katani's unbelievable science fair project—something totally “revolutionary,” like Mr. Moore said. The thing about being creative, Katani had learned, is that sometimes creativity could come from unusual places. And her father's garage was guaranteed to get her brain juices flowing.

A few months ago, Katani had gone on a road trip with Maeve and Maeve's dad, and on the way the car had gotten a flat tire. Ever since that incident, Katani had been determined to learn as much about electricity, cars, and plumbing as a seventh grader could know. It was part of her master plan of leading “a life of empowerment and success”—she had read all about it in this book called
Girls Gone Successful
by Brenda Bredelman, the famous female CEO. So far, she had gotten her dad to teach her how to fix the leak under the kitchen sink and how to hang a series of framed pictures in the family living room. But, hey, it was a start, right?

First things first: the Kgirl list. She found a notebook in her father's desk drawer and began writing down the names of all the supplies she might possibly be able to use for a project about electricity. Maybe a complete inventory would lead to a genius idea. “Let's see…” Katani whispered as she studied the words on her sheet. “Mini light bulbs…nails…wires….” She was getting more excited with every word.
Her project was going to be great…she could just feel it.

Katani tried to be as quiet as a mouse as she jostled the garage door and crept inside. She flipped on the switch. The room was filled to the brim with wires, wood, and wall-to-wall cases of tools, all gleaming in the white light.

Suddenly, Katani dropped her notebook and let out a scream as she heard the sounds of an alarm going off.
Oh, no!
She had completely forgotten the alarm system her dad turned on in the garage at night.

“Honey? What in the name of Judge Judy is going on around here?” Katani heard her father's voice.

Slowly, Katani turned around to see her entire family filling the doorway behind her father…every one of them looking very confused. Kelley was shrieking, “There's an emergency, Katani. Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” Kelley must have picked that up from a commercial she had seen. She had a tendency to do that.

“Shh…shh. There, there, sweetie,” Mrs. Summers comforted, rubbing her daughter's forehead.

“There's no intruder, Kelley,” Katani's older sister Patrice said, rolling her eyes. “Katani
is
the intruder!”

Kelley knitted her brows. “Huh? Katani's intruding?”

Katani groaned. “Patrice, knock it off!” Katani rushed over and wrapped an arm around her confused sister. “I'm not intruding, Kelley. I was just trying to get ahead on a homework assignment.”

“Oh, Katani.” Her father couldn't help laughing. “I think it's wonderful how motivated you are about your schoolwork…but there are better times than the middle of the night to do research. You had the whole family thinking we
were under attack. In fact, here they come….” The sounds of police sirens filled the night air.

“Oops,” Katani said guiltily. “I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted a head start…”

Katani's mother ushered Patrice and Kelley back up the stairs as Kelley joyously sang, “No intruder, no intruder!”

Her father gave Katani a warm bear hug. “Hey, kiddo, what do you say tomorrow morning you and I discuss this whole science fair project thing over breakfast? You might be surprised to find that your old man knows a thing or two about alternative energy, like wind and solar—very environmentally trendy and cool, no?”

Katani had to chuckle at her father's attempt at coolness. He might not be as “environmentally trendy” as he thought, but he did know an awful lot about electricity. “Sounds great!” she agreed. “And, Dad, would you mind if maybe tomorrow I checked out some more of this gear?”

BOOK: Green Algae and Bubble Gum Wars
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