Finn is staring at his house with his mouth open like at the dentist. India is walking up her sidewalk.
My home is yellow with white trim, a porch swing, pots with flowers, and clouds of butterflies and hummingbirds and fireflies everywhere. It is glowy with yellow light. My house is better than Finn’s or India’s.
In the doorway is a lady with red curly hair like mine. She has a science book in one hand, a plate of peanut butter–chocolate chip cookies in the other. I can smell them. That’s how I know. “‘Pluto,’” she reads, “‘is the ninth planet in the solar system.’ ”
I don’t know who this stranger person is. She isn’t like my mommy at all. This mommy is better.
CHAPTER 9
A COOL MOM
Okay, I have no idea how we got these incredible houses and everything. It had to have been Uncle Red, right? He must have like pulled some strings somehow. Too bad Mom can’t see how well Uncle Red and I are taking care of Finn and Mouse. I mean hello? Look at this! I’ll bet Uncle Red didn’t have to work his butt off or freak out about it either. Life is a lot easier than Mom makes it out to be.
There’s a group of girls about my age pointing at me from the sidewalk.
I have fans . . . who knew?
Why didn’t I read the celebrity magazines Maddy always buys? Then I’d know what you’re supposed to say to fans. Fans love you no matter what, don’t they? I’ll bet that’s what Maddy would say.
Maddy understands things way better than Mom. I just wish she were here right now, because I’m feeling a little clueless about what I’m supposed to do.
I feel bad I didn’t tell Maddy I was moving. I didn’t even say good-bye. What if they put up a sign that says the house has been repoed, foreclosed, sold by the bank, whatever . . . and what if Maddy sees it?
They won’t do that, right?
Maddy would freak if she saw this place. This house is awesome. It’s ten times nicer than Lizzie’s house. I wish I could tell her how to get here. There’s a number 401 next to the door, but what street?
How did it work that I got this place? I mean, if Uncle Red arranged it, wouldn’t he be here? That’s the part I don’t get.
But maybe Uncle Red wants us to enjoy this without him. When he sends a gift for my birthday, it’s not like he flies in to give it to me.
Maddy says when something good happens, don’t question it. Just go for it.
I need a clean set of clothes that aren’t, you know, slept in. What should I wear though? How do you dress if you’re a celebrity?
I’m just unzipping my suitcase, digging through looking for my turquoise skirt, when this lady comes out who kinda looks like my mom, only much younger, much cooler, much more fun; my mom without the worry.
“In—” The mom-like person smiles at me. “You’re not going to believe this,” she says, leading me through this incredible, foyer kind of place to a room bigger than our living room, full of new clothes.
“Here you go, girl,” the lady says. “I’ll leave you to it.”
The first thing I see are plum-colored pants like the ones Maddy has that I’ve been dying for but my mom says are too expensive. And ohmygod tons of boyfriend jeans, hundreds of shoes, and boots—real ones, not the knockoffs I always have to wear.
Seriously expensive tops too—long sleek ones that make you look skinny and tall. There must be a hundred, hanging up like in a cool boutique, and then there are whole outfits accessorized in really cute ways. Everything is my style. Better than my style. The me I’ve always wanted to be. Nobody can pick out what I like all the time, but this woman has. If only Maddy or Ariana or even Lizzie were here. We would have a blast trying things on.
I slip into the plum-colored pants like Maddy’s. They are so cute and they fit perfectly. I can’t believe the way I look in this stuff. Ten times better than normal. Even my birthmark looks great here, like my belly would not look right without it. Isn’t that crazy? I always thought it looked like mud, but here it resembles a bird in flight.
Then I drift past the closet room to another room—even bigger than the last. Inside are dozens of screens and photos of Maddy and her friends. But they are all static photo faces, except Maddy’s.
Maddy’s hand beckons in that rapid-fire way she has. “In, come closer! Oh my God, what are you wearing? That top is too cute.”
“You think?” I turn so she can see the back, which is the most adorable part because of the way it’s cut low.
“Get out of here, girl! That is adorable! You better hide that one from Rules. She’d never let you wear anything like that. Has Brendan seen it? Is he on screen? Have you talked to him yet?” Maddy whispers in her throaty voice.