“Hey, Jane,” I said happily, like I didn’t want something from the girl that was so boring even the color white was too much for her to wear.
Jane eyed me suspiciously. Okay, so it was a little odd that I was talking to her. That didn’t mean I couldn’t be friendly to her. I was friendly with nearly everyone at the school. Some people just chose to think I was being sarcastic and others believed me. That wasn’t my fault.
“Mind if I sit down?” I asked. She didn’t argue so I did it anyway. Silence was the generally accepted norm for acceptance, right? Sure. “So, great cushion in Mrs. Swayze’s class. I was impressed.”
“Thanks.” There was no clue about what she actually thought in that one word.
I continued on fearlessly anyway – despite the fact so much was at stake. I couldn’t mess this up. “How do you feel about partnerships, Jane?”
“Partnerships?” she asked. Okay, so she was still only giving me one word replies. That wasn’t a good sign. Although, she hadn’t told me to go away yet so that was a win.
“Yeah. You see, there’s this fashion design competition coming up. I thought maybe you and me could form a partnership to win it.”
“I’m too busy.”
“But our dress could be made into a real design,” I tried to convince her. The panic buttons were starting to go off in my head. I was losing her.
“I don’t care about winning some stupid fashion competition. I’ve got better things to do.”
“Better than fashion? What are you, Amish?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Because, judging by the way she dressed every day, she could have actually been Amish.
Jane met my gaze, looking me directly in the eyes. “Go away. I’m not interested.”
“Are you sure? I can-”
“I’m sure,” she interrupted my grand speech. It was going to be a good one too.
I guessed I was going to get nowhere with her. While I could normally talk anyone into anything, Jane wasn’t exactly the type I normally influenced. She didn’t like me, that was quite clear.
“Okay, well, if you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” she stated bluntly. Okay, I got it already. The Truly Winx fan club wasn’t one she was a card carrying member of. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I left her to eat lunch alone and didn’t see her for the rest of the day. It took three buses and then a walk of five blocks to reach my home.
After I stepped through the door of our tiny apartment on the sixth floor – walk up, no elevator – all thoughts of the competition disappeared from my mind.
I was the oldest of four kids and my mom worked constantly. She tried her best to juggle everything, but it was always my responsibility to cook dinner every night and help the others with their chores. That only left putting them to bed when my mom got home. She always made sure to read the younger ones a story and kissed us all good night. I didn’t get to see her much.
It wasn’t until I was elbow deep in spaghetti that my mind wandered again. The prizes for the competition were amazing. My family could really use the money and the chance at being a real designer was like every dream of mine coming true all at once.
I had to enter. I had to win. That was it. There was nothing else to figure out. Except I knew my best shot at winning was finding someone who could sew. Like, really sew. Not just throw two pieces of material together and hope they hold.
My mind scanned through everyone in my home economics class. All the boys were out, they were only taking the class to meet girls. That left about twenty options.
I’d worked with a few of the girls on projects before they had been deemed as hopeless as I was. It was the blind leading the blind and I needed someone with twenty-twenty vision.
That left about three people. Plus, Mrs. Swayze? Nah, she would never help me with anything. We’d argue the entire time. So, three girls.
The first was Alicia Laguna. She was nice and all, but she wanted to be a designer too. If I told her about the competition, she would enter it herself. And she would be hard to beat. She was out.
The second was Becca Noble. She smelt. Like, bad. Like lunch left in your bag for three hot days, bad. I didn’t want the judges to be put off by the smell lingering on the dress. That wouldn’t work.
That only left Jane. Dammit. She was literally my only option if I wanted a fighting chance. My mad design skills and her perfect sewing had to combine forces. We would be like fashion design ninjas, unbeatable.
I had all night to come up with a plan and I was determined to succeed this time. Jane was going to enter the competition with me. Whether she liked it or not.