All because of my FABULOUS masterpiece!! . . .
BUTTERFLY BLISS IN #2 PENCIL
Am I not brilliant??!! !!
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 13
I’m so upset right now I can barely write!
I’ve been in my room crying for the past two hours.
And I still don’t have the slightest idea what I’m going to do about the situation.
After we dropped off Brianna at her ballet class at 5:00 p.m., my mom decided to buy some poinsettias and holiday centerpieces for our house.
She actually chose the flower shop right next to FUZZY FRIENDS!!
It was an amazing coincidence because Chloe, Zoey, and I were planning to go there tomorrow.
Mom told me she’d be in the flower shop about fifteen minutes and she’d meet me back at the car. So I rushed over to Fuzzy Friends and prayed that Betty would be in the office.
Just inside the front door I saw a stack of empty moving boxes, and my heart sank.
It looked like I was already too late!
I peeked inside a well-lit office and saw an older lady taking pictures off the walls.
“Excuse me! Are you Betty?” I asked.
“Yes, I am, dear. Come right in. This is the perfect time to adopt one of our pets, because we’re going to be closing our doors real soon. Are you interested in a dog or cat?” She picked up a clipboard and gave me a big smile.
I immediately liked her.
And now I understand why Brandon likes her so much too.
“I’ll need you to fill out a few forms. But the good news is that there’s no charge at all!”
“Actually, I’m not here to adopt a pet. Although they’re quite adorable. I was here last week as a student volunteer. And now I’m wondering if we could represent Fuzzy Friends in a school-related community service project?”
Betty motioned for me to sit down.
“Well, first of all, thank you for volunteering!” she said. “It’s the wonderful and caring people like you who have allowed us to place more than two hundred animals so far this year. But unfortunately, a few days ago my husband fell off a ladder while painting the kitchen and broke his leg in two places. There’s just no way we can continue to stay open.”
I didn’t waste any time and immediately explained the Holiday on Ice program and how the money we earned could be used to help keep the center open for a few months. Hopefully, until her husband fully recovered.
Betty became overwhelmed with emotion and suddenly burst into tears. . . .
I wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear what she said next.
“You know what?! Now that I think about it, I got a telephone message yesterday from a young lady about Holiday on Ice. But I assumed she was selling tickets. I think her name was Madison. Or was it Mikaya—”
“MACKENZIE?”
“Yes! That’s it. MacKenzie! How did you know?”
“Oh! Just a lucky guess.”
“Well, Nikki! Tell me how I can sign up Fuzzy Friends as a Holiday on Ice charity! I’m really looking forward to seeing you and your friends skate.”
Our meeting went even better than I could have imagined.
She gave me her business card with her home telephone number and even the hospital number so I could reach her pretty much 24–7.
“Nikki, you have no idea how much this means to me, my husband, and especially our grandson,” Betty gushed. “Poor little guy! He’s already been through so much, losing his parents a few years ago. And now we were going to have to uproot him and move to a new state in the middle of the year. I was dreading having to break the news to him, but thanks to you, I won’t have to. He’s out back exercising the dogs. All I can say is thank you, thank you!” Then she hugged me so hard, I could barely breathe.
“Thank YOU! For agreeing to be our charity and allowing us to skate for you,” I said, tearing up a little myself. “We’ll try to make Fuzzy Friends proud!”
As I left the shelter I noticed a tall fence that surrounded the entire property.
I heard what sounded like a pack of dogs barking excitedly and couldn’t help but sneak a peek.
I saw a boy running around with what appeared to be eight dogs of assorted sizes, colors, and breeds, including the three puppies.
Even though his back was to me, I could see he had one of those soft foam rubber footballs and seemed to be having a rousing football game of guy versus dogs. . . .
He ran with the football across the grass, dodging imaginary tackles, as the dogs happily chased after him, barking and nipping at his heels.
“And it’s a TOUCHDOWN!!” he screamed. “And the CROWD GOES WILD!! HAAAAAARRR!”
That’s when I noticed his voice sounded vaguely familiar.
But my brain refused to make the connection and instead decided he must just sound like someone I knew.
The boy spiked the football into the ground and broke into a funky chicken/running man/Dougie–inspired victory dance as the dogs barked and ran in frenzied circles around him.
Then he and all the dogs collapsed on the ground in sheer exhaustion.
When I finally saw his face, I froze and gasped in shock. . . .
IT WAS BRANDON!!
Suddenly that comment he made a couple days ago, about never forgetting me no matter what happened, took on a whole new meaning.
He KNEW that IF Fuzzy Friends closed, there was a chance he and his grandparents might be moving away during the holiday break!
NOOO! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!! OMG! OMG! OMG!
Brandon and I might not EVER see each other AGAIN!
!!
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14
The shock about Brandon is finally starting to wear off a little.
But I still have a million questions:
WHO is Brandon, really?
WHERE is he from?
WHAT happened to his parents?
WHEN did he start living with his grandparents?
HOW did he end up at WCD?
And what about all that stuff I overheard MacKenzie and Jessica saying about Brandon in the bathroom?! Is any of that true?
Just thinking about all this is enough to make my head spin and my heart hurt.
I can’t begin to imagine what he’s gone through.
But I don’t dare breathe a word of this to another living soul. Not even Chloe and Zoey.
If Brandon wants anyone to know, he can tell them.
Well, at least something good happened today. I mailed off the paperwork, so now it’s official!
Chloe, Zoey, and I will be skating in the Holiday on Ice show for the charity Fuzzy Friends!
And I plan to do everything within my power to help keep that place open.
For the animals.
For Betty and Phil.
And most important, for . . . BRANDON!
I KNOW I CAN DO THIS. !!
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 15
ARRRGH!!
I’m so ticked off at Brianna and Miss Penelope right now, I could just . . . SCREAM!!
But since this whole thing was Mom’s STUPID idea, it’s technically all HER fault!
You’d think that after giving birth to two children, she would be a more responsible parent!
Why in the world would she ask ME to take over the family tradition of baking holiday cookies for friends and neighbors?!
I should have suspected that something was up when Mom started acting really weird at dinner.
After setting the table, she just stood there, like a mannequin or something, holding on to my chair and staring at me with this strange look on her face.
MOM, KIND OF FREAKING ME OUT!
But since I was pretty much starving, I just ignored her and continued to stuff my face.
Suddenly Mom’s eyes glazed over and she stopped blinking. This could mean only one thing.
She’d somehow suffered a head injury while fixing the meat loaf and needed emergency medical care. Or maybe NOT.
“Mom! Are you okay?!” I s
aid through a mouthful of food.
“Oh!” She suddenly snapped out of her daze as a big sappy grin spread across her face. “I was just thinking about how wonderful it would be to pass my cookie tradition on to YOU, so that one day you can share it with YOUR daughter.”
“HUH?!” I gasped, almost choking on my mashed potatoes.
WHY were we talking about BABIES?!
Brandon and I HADN’T even held hands yet!
I was happy Mom had such pleasant memories of baking cookies with me when I was a little kid. . . .
MOM AND ME (AT AGE FIVE), BAKING HOLIDAY COOKIES
Sorry! But I was so NOT looking forward to baking cookies with my OWN daughter.
Mainly because I had this fear she would be a little TERROR as punishment for all the HEADACHES I had caused my mom. . . .
ME AND MY DAUGHTER (AT AGE FIVE), BAKING HOLIDAY COOKIES
That’s when Mom placed her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.
“Nikki, will you make the Christmas cookies this year?! It would mean so very much to me.”
My gut reaction was to scream, “Mom, stop it! You’re SCARING me!”
But instead I just shrugged, swallowed a hunk of meat loaf, and muttered, “Um . . . okay.”
I mean, how hard could baking cookies be? Moms do it all the time. Right?!
After dinner was over, Mom handed me the cookie recipe so I could get started. Then she headed for the mall to finish up her Christmas shopping.
The thing that bothered me most was that Mom had very conveniently left out an important detail. I had to bake cookies with BRIANNA. !!
I tried to cook a gourmet dinner with Brianna back in September, and it was a total disaster.
And I was STILL haunted by the horrible memory of making homemade ice cream at Thanksgiving and both Brianna and Dad getting their tongues stuck on the metal ice cream thingy!
Brianna came skipping into the kitchen.
“Hi, Nikki! Guess what? Me and Miss Penelope are here to help you bake cookies!”
I was like, JUST GREAT !!
I knew I had to keep Brianna really busy so she wouldn’t get in my way or do something predictably dangerous.
Like stuff Miss Penelope in the microwave on the popcorn setting to see if she would magically turn into a bucket of popcorn.
So to distract Brianna, I asked her to go find me two cookie sheets.
Things got off to a great start. I had measured all the ingredients and was about to start mixing.
That’s when Brianna started making so much noise, it sounded like a construction work site.
CLANK! BANG! KLUNK! CLANK!
“Brianna, I can barely hear myself think! Stop making all that noise before you make my head explode!” I yelled.
Her eyes lit up. “Really? This noise will make your head explode? COOL!”
CLANK! BANG! KLUNK!
“Brianna! Knock it off! Or I’m calling Mom . . . !” I threatened.
“Look at me!” she said, doing the robot around the kitchen. “I’m the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz!”
BRIANNA, AS THE TIN MAN
“Sorry, Brianna! You’re NOT the Tin Man,” I muttered. “You need a BRAIN! THAT would make you the SCARECROW!”
“Nikki! I do got a BRAIN!” she huffed. “SEE?” She opened her mouth really wide and pointed.
I pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and set it in front of her.
“Just sit here and don’t move, like a good little Tin Man. Just pretend you’re rusting or something. Okay?”
I mixed the cookie ingredients together, rolled out the dough, and made little Christmas trees with Mom’s cookie cutters.
Then I placed the cookies in the oven. When I turned around, Brianna was licking the spoon.
“Brianna, don’t lick the spoon! I need to use it to make this last batch of cookies.”
“It’s Miss Penelope’s fault, not mine. She’s tasting the cookie dough to make sure it’s not nasty. She says you’re really good at drawing, but your cooking STINKS!”
I could NOT believe Miss Penelope was talking trash about me like that. Especially since she wasn’t even a real . . . um . . . HUMAN.
I thought about grabbing the rolling pin and giving Miss Penelope something really nasty to “taste.”
But instead I decided to chillax by watching TV in the family room while my cookies baked for thirteen minutes.
It hadn’t been more than five minutes when I thought I smelled something burning.
I rushed back into the kitchen, and Brianna was standing near the stove with this really guilty look on her face.
The oven temperature had been changed from 350 degrees to BROIL! This is what happened. . . .
I opened the windows to clear out all the smoke and hoped the fire department wouldn’t show up. OMG! I’ll just DIE if my face ends up plastered on the front page of the city newspaper!
ME, PLASTERED ACROSS THE FRONT PAGE
This little baking project was a complete and utter DISASTER!
Now I have to call Mom and break the news that she needs to stop by the grocery store on her way home from the mall.
Because this year, thanks to Brianna and Miss Penelope, all our friends and family members will be receiving holiday cookies baked in a hollow tree by those little Keebler Elves! I’m just sayin’ . . . !!
I can’t believe that we actually start ice-skating in gym class tomorrow. Soon I’ll be gliding across the ice and doing double-axel jumps like the pros.
I plan to go to bed an hour early tonight so I’ll be alert and well rested.
It’s going to be weird hanging around Brandon now that I know his situation. I’m still really worried about him.
But I think I’m starting to like him even MORE!
!!
MONDAY, DECEMBER 16
Right now I’m SO frustrated I could just . . .
SCREAM !!
Today was my first day of ice-skating at the high school arena during gym class, and it was a complete DISASTER!
Just standing up on the ice was, like, ten times harder than I thought it was going to be.
WHY, WHY, WHY did I ever agree to do this stupid Holiday on Ice show?!
I must have been temporarily INSANE.
And it didn’t help matters that MacKenzie was FUMING over the fact that Chloe, Zoey, and I were skating for Fuzzy Friends, and not HER.
As usual, that girl went out of her way to make my life MISERABLE. . . .
I can’t believe MacKenzie actually said that right to my face like that.
The entire class heard it too. It seemed like everyone was snickering about me behind my back.
OMG! I was beyond HUMILIATED!
We were SUPPOSED to be practicing our Holiday on Ice skating routine during gym class.
But NOOOO! I didn’t practice at all. WHY?!!
BECAUSE I’M SO HORRIBLY CRUDDY AT ICE-SKATING, I COULDN’T EVEN STAND UP! THAT’S WHY!!
Chloe and Zoey even held both my hands like I was a clumsy little toddler taking my first steps. But I STILL fell down!
The ONLY thing I could do really well was a move that required superwobbly legs.
Well, I’m really sorry to disappoint those snobby CCPs! But any dance I was doing was PURELY accidental.
Chloe and Zoey told me to chillax and be patient because it might take three or four weeks of practice before I could even skate around the rink by myself.
But our ice show is in only TWO WEEKS!! Girlfriends, do the MATH!!
Zoey suggested that I read her book Figure Skating for Dummies.
And Chloe offered to loan me her novel The Ice Princess.
But personally, I don’t think books are going to help me much.
The only TWO things I really NEED right now are:
One of those walker thingies that really old people use, because six legs on the ice are better than just two . . .
And a really soft pillow because I now have a dozen bruises from falling o
n my behind, and I’m NOT going to be able to sit down for a week. . . .
Unfortunately, we’ll be practicing our ice-skating routine in gym class for the rest of the week.
And then on December 26, 27, and 30, we have three special practice sessions for the December 31 show.
I don’t mean to be all doom-’n’-gloom, but this ice-skating stuff is turning into a total NIGHTMARE!
AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!
That was me screaming in frustration. AGAIN!
But I have to remain calm and stay focused.
I can’t afford to fail. Because if I do, Brandon will be forced to move, and he’s had enough trauma in his life.
OMG! WHAT have I gotten myself into??!
!!
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 17
I’m sitting in my bedroom trying not to have a TOTAL MELTDOWN.
I just HATE it when I do things at the very last minute.
My Moby-Dick assignment is due in less than fourteen hours and I’m just now starting it.
By “it” I don’t mean the book REPORT.
I’m just starting to READ the stupid BOOK !!
My biggest fear is that the book might aggravate a very serious medical problem.
You see, I’m superALLERGIC to . . . BORING!
There’s a possibility that while I’m reading Moby-Dick, I could have a SEVERE allergic reaction due to extreme BOREDOM and go into anaphylactic shock.
I could, like, actually . . . DIE!!
MY PAINFUL AND SENSELESS DEATH FROM SEVERE BOREDOM DUE TO READING MOBY-DICK
Then my teacher would give me a big fat INCOMPLETE for my grade because I didn’t finish the assignment!
OMG! What if she made me attend SUMMER
SCHOOL to make up for the incomplete?! How CRUDDY would THAT be?!
Thank goodness I’d already be DEAD due to my allergic reaction to boredom !!
Anyway, I had no idea how I was going to read the entire 672-page book AND write a report. But I was DETERMINED to do it.
So I pulled out my Moby-Dick book and started reading as fast as my little eyeballs could go.