“Chantal,” Hannie repeated. She paused. “You know what I’ve been thinking ever since I fell off my bike?”
“What?” I said. I sat on the edge of Hannie’s bed.
“I’ve been thinking,” Hannie began, “that you must have been feeling awfully bad the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible to think you look ugly. It’s even worse to think people won’t like you because of that.”
“It was bad,” I said. “It was bad when I looked in the mirror, and it was bad when the boys called me the Bride of Frankenstein. But you know what was the worst of all?”
“What?” asked Hannie.
“When you told me I couldn’t be in your wedding because I wasn’t perfect.”
Hannie lowered her eyes. “I know that was unfair. I’m not sure why I did that. I guess I just wanted the wedding to be … perfect. But I figured something out this morning. And I’m really glad you came over because now I can tell you about it. I figured out that just because I didn’t like your teeth and hair didn’t mean I couldn’t like you. Remember what Scott said? He said, ‘I’m not marrying your face. I’m marrying you.’ That’s the same thing. Anyway, I guess nobody’s perfect.”
“That’s what Daddy always says,” I told Hannie. I smiled at her.
“I know,” she replied. “My parents say the same thing.”
“Do you think it’s true?” I asked.
“What? That nobody’s perfect?” said Hannie.
“Yes.”
Hannie looked thoughtful. “Yup,” she said finally. “I do think that’s true, Chantal…. Hey! I got your name right!”
I giggled. “You can call me Karen now.”
“I can? Why?”
“Because I don’t think I need fancy things anymore. I’m not wearing my hair ribbons or my jewelry. See? And you just said you like me even if I’m not perfect. So I don’t have to be glamorous, either. I can just be Karen Brewer again.”
“Good,” said Hannie. “I like Karen Brewer better than Chantal and Tiffanie and all those other names. Um, do you still want to be in my wedding?”
“Of course I do!”
“Oh, great! Gosh, we have to figure out what you’re going to wear.”
“How about my pink party dress?” I said. “And my party shoes.”
“Perfect. You can put flowers in your hair, just like me. Gosh, I better remember to pick them.”
“What else do you have to do?” I asked.
“Oh, lots of things.”
For almost an hour, Hannie and I sat in her room. We talked about her wedding.
Hannie’s Wedding
The next day was wedding day! That morning I didn’t lie around in my bed. I leaped up! The wedding was going to be at eleven o’clock, and I had to be ready. First I ate breakfast. Usually I get dressed first, but I did not want to spill orange juice or cereal on my party dress.
As soon as breakfast was over I put on my pink dress, my white socks with the rosebuds on them, and my party shoes. I brushed my hair. Then I looked at myself in the long mirror in Daddy and Elizabeth’s room. I decided I looked almost … pretty.
I checked my watch. Ten-thirty.
“Hey, wedding time!” I yelled. “Come on, David Michael.” David Michael was going to be the minister.
We ran out the front door. Kristy would be coming over later with Emily and Andrew. They would be wedding guests.
When we reached the Papadakises’ backyard, David Michael and I found Hannie and Linny (who was going to be the best man) and Sari. Sari is Hannie’s little sister. She is Emily’s age. She was going to be the flower girl.
Boy, did Hannie look pretty. She was wearing high-heeled shoes and her mother’s wedding dress. She had to hold the dress up high so she wouldn’t step on it, but that was okay.
Sari looked pretty, too, but I knew she had no idea what was going on. And Linny and David Michael looked handsome in their suits. They looked cross, though. That was because they hate wearing suits.
“Hi, Karen!” called Hannie when she saw me. “Come here! I’ve got our flowers!”
Hannie had picked dandelions. She poked them into our hair. I hoped they wouldn’t fall out.
“Where’s Scott?” I asked.
“He’s …” said Hannie slowly, looking around, “right there!” Walking proudly into the Papadakises’ yard were Scott and his older brother. They were both wearing suits, only they didn’t look cross. Scott was grinning.
“Is everyone here?” I asked.
“Everyone but the guests,” Hannie replied.
The guests arrived in bunches — Kristy, Andrew, Emily, Nancy, some kids from down the street, Scott’s parents, and Hannie’s parents.
Hannie’s mother was carrying a camera. She was the wedding photographer.
When everyone had arrived, Hannie said, “Let’s get started. Sari, throw your flower petals. Daddy, the music.”
Sari was holding a basket full of bits of tissue paper. She flung the entire basket onto the ground. Everyone laughed. Sari cried. Her father had to pick her up. But first he turned on a tape deck. Hannie wanted to get married to the tape of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” It’s her favorite song.
Scott and Hannie stood in front of David Michael, the minister. Linny and I stood sort of behind them. I was not sure what the bridesmaid and the best man were supposed to do.
“Okay,” said David Michael. “Um, let’s see. We are gathered here today for this wedding. This wedding of Hannie and Scott.”
Click, went Mrs. Papadakis’s camera.
“Hannie, do you take Scott to be your husband?” asked David Michael.
“I do,” said Hannie seriously.
“Scott, do you take Hannie to be your wife?”
“I do,” said Scott. Then he whispered loudly, “Linny, we need the rings.”
Linny had not been paying attention. He jumped a mile. Then he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out two of my dentist rings. I had lent them to Hannie the day before.
Scott took the rings. He gave one to Hannie. She slipped it onto Scott’s finger, and Scott slipped the other ring onto Hannie’s finger.
“Okay!” cried David Michael. “You guys are married! You can kiss.”
“No way!” shrieked Scott and Hannie at the same time.
Click, click, click went the camera.
All the guests cheered.
A Wedding for Karen?
On Monday morning I woke up in my bed at Mommy’s. I was feeling happy, even though I was sorry my weekend at Daddy’s was over. I was sorry the wedding was over, too. That had been fun.
But I was happy to be regular old Karen Brewer again. I did not need sparkly nail polish. I did not need Mommy’s makeup. I did not need necklaces and the ankle bracelet or my hair ribbons. I did not even need a new name.
I got dressed quickly. Dressing went much faster when I only had to put on clothes. Then I brushed my hair. I looked at myself in the mirror. I examined my teeth and my haircut. My teeth were growing in and my hair was growing out.
Perfect.
* * *
At school that day, two very amazing things happened.
The first one happened after Seth had dropped me off at school and I was walking to the front door. I passed those two big fifth-grade girls who had smiled at me, and guess what. (You won’t believe this.) They had gotten their hair cut just like mine! Honest.
I ran to Ms. Colman’s room.
“Hannie! Nancy!” I cried. (Ms. Colman wasn’t there yet, so nobody reminded me to use my indoor voice.)
“What? What is it?” exclaimed my friends.
“Those two big kids, those girls I told you about on Friday — ”
“The ones who smiled at you?” interrupted Nancy.
“Yes,” I replied. “Well, they got haircuts like mine! I swear it. I just saw them.”
Nancy’s eyes grew wide. So did Hannie’s.
“You — you started something that the big kids copied,” said Hannie in awe.
“Wow …”
* * *
The second amazing thing happened on the playground that day. Our class was crowded around Hannie. Everyone wanted to know about her wedding.
“Are you really married?” asked Natalie.
“Well … no,” replied Hannie. “David Michael isn’t a real minister. But Scott and I can pretend. He is my best boyfriend.”
“Did you get wedding presents?” asked Jannie.
“No, but I have a wedding ring.” Hannie held her hand out. On it was the dentist ring. It was gold with a red jewel. I had decided to let Scott and Hannie keep the rings.
“My bridesmaid,” Hannie went on, “was Karen. She was dressed up. She looked very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Hannie looked beautiful, too. She was wearing her mother’s real wedding dress.”
“Oooh,” said a whole bunch of kids.
“My mother took pictures at the wedding,” said Hannie. “I’ll bring them to school when they’ve been developed.”
Just then I felt someone tug at my arm. I turned around. Yicky Ricky was behind me.
“Hey, Chantal,” he whispered. “Come here.” He pulled me away from the crowd of kids. “Chantal,” he said again, “I was wondering. Someday, would you maybe think about marrying me? Maybe?”
Ricky wanted to marry me?
I looked at him. I could tell he was serious. He was even a little nervous.
Still, I almost said, “No.” After all, this was Yicky Ricky, who used to call me mean names and throw spitballs at me. But then I remembered that he was the only one who had remembered my glamorous names.
So I smiled at Ricky Torres. “Yes,” I told him.
Ricky grinned back. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks, Chantal.”
“It’s Karen,” I told him. “It’s just Karen Brewer.”
About the Author
ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.
Copyright © 1990 by Ann M. Martin
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, BABY-SITTERS LITTLE SISTER, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1990
e-ISBN 978-1-338-05565-8
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Ann M. Martin, Karen's Haircut
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends