Claire’s Story, 1910 Page 9
Maybe on the kitchen counter? Nope. She even checked inside the fridge.
She crawled around under the table in case it had dropped on the floor. Still no luck!
“Excuse me, Draper,” she said as she gently slid her hand under his belly. Maybe he fell asleep on top of her phone? His ear twitched and his leg kicked, but his snoring never stopped. She groaned and started to get up.
Beep-beep.
Okay . . . her phone had to be somewhere . . . some where very close. She had spent most of the morning planted at the kitchen table drawing imaginary out fits in her newest sketchbook. It was her favorite thing to do at Camp Lulu by far.
At the beginning of summer, Aunt Lulu noticed all the fashion drawings Zoey was doing on the back of used printer paper and started hanging them on the fridge.
When there was no space left in the “art gallery,” as Aunt Lulu started to call it, she surprised Zoey with a beautiful sketchbook tied with a big raffia bow. “I’m glad you’re saving the Earth, but drawings like yours deserve to be on something better than scrap paper, don’t you think?” she had asked. “Plus, I don’t want you to lose any of them!”
And the rest, as they say, was history—soon Zoey had filled a few sketchbooks with original clothing designs. Well, some were inspired by her favorite designers, like Blake and Bauer and the amazing Daphne Shaw, especially in the beginning. But most of them were unique, and her aunt loved them all. She loved the silly ones, like the “sunny day sundress” made of sky-blue fabric dotted with puffy white clouds. And she even loved the unwearable ones, like the flapper dress made entirely of those plastic rings that hold together six-packs of soda cans. Zoey didn’t show the sketchbooks to anyone else. Not even to her best friends, Priti and Kate. She just did it for fun . . . and because once she got started, she couldn’t stop coming up with ideas.
It was pretty funny, actually, that she spent so much time dreaming up different outfits. During the school year, she had to wear the same exact thing every single day: five days a week of a standard-issue school uniform. Sometimes she wondered if she would be so obsessed with clothes if she actually got to wear them!
But right now she had a much more vital question on her mind: Where on earth was her phone?
Wait . . . her sketchbook was looking awfully thick.
She flipped through the pages . . . and there it was! On top of a drawing of a floor-skimming maxi dress and a scallop-edged white tank paired with geometric-print pedal pushers.
She laughed, breathed a sigh of relief, and looked down at the screen to see who was sending all those texts.
Can you believe it?! said the first text. Then there was a: Hello?? Finally came an: Um, Zoey? R u there?
The text messages were from Priti Holbrooke, one of Zoey’s two very best friends.
Zoey picked up her phone and gawked at the screen as a million thoughts flew through her head.
Believe what? She had no idea!
And was it good? (She hoped!)
Or bad . . . (Uh-oh!)
Priti! Zoey loved her because she knew how to make life more exciting. But sometimes she could give you a heart attack!
Zoey thumbed back a speedy, desperate reply: Believe what?!?!
She clutched her phone and waited, staring at the screen. . . .
Still, she jumped when it beeped and blinked to life again.
No more uniforms! texted Priti.
Zoey’s mouth fell open and she nearly dropped the phone. “No way!” she cried out loud, reading it over again to be sure.
Could it be that after sixty-five years, Mapleton Prep was finally waking up? Could it be that the petition Zoey started last spring had actually worked? She started it because she didn’t feel like everyone else, and she didn’t want to dress like everyone else, either. But she never thought it would work.
The school wasn’t really that bad overall. The classrooms had big windows. Most of the teachers were nice. And except for the gelatinous meat loaf and cardboard pizza, the food was mostly edible. It was just those uniforms! All that horrible gray polyester. And those plaid ties. Every time Zoey got dressed for school in them, she could swear a part of her soul died.
R u sure? she texted back.
Yes! +!!!!!!!! came the answer right away.
Zoey did a little dance of joy and quickly pressed call instead of reply.
“Hi!” answered Priti.
“How did you find out? Are you sure?” Zoey blurted.
“Zoey, we got a letter in the mail!” Priti told her. “Haven’t you seen it? It came today!”
Zoey groaned. “Ugh, I missed it! I’m at my aunt’s house. What does it say?”
“Hang on.” Zoey could hear Priti moving around and shuffling some papers. “It’s here some-where . . . Tara!” Priti hollered to one of her sisters as Zoey pulled the phone away from her ear. “Where’s the mail? I need that letter from my school!”
While she waited, Zoey could picture the likely scene taking place in the Holbrooke home. There was always a lot going on with three girls as lively as Priti and the twins. Tara and Sashi were in high school, and each had their own niche, as their dad liked to say. Sashi played the piano . . . and the flute and the harp, and sang, too. Her primary goal in life these days was earning a scholarship to Juilliard. Tara, on the other hand, was all about biology and organic chemistry and basically anything that screamed pre-med. She was spending the summer working in a college lab.
Priti was the baby of the family and the opposite of her focused, organized older sisters. Her grades were fine and her work was never late. And yet her bedroom and her backpack might as well have been black holes. She wasn’t exactly a slob . . . but maybe she was, a little bit. Whatever she lacked in organizational skills, however, she more than made up for in overall spunk and charm. Zoey could always count on Priti to cheer her up if she was feeling down. Or to make her laugh until her stomach hurt.
“Sorry about that, Zoey,” Priti said. “Zoey? Are you still there?”
“Yes!” Zoey answered. “Read it to me! Hurry! Who’s the letter from?”
“Our new principal,” Priti told her. “Her name is Ms. Austen. Ms. Esther Austen . . . Esther? What a name, right? Anyway, ‘Dear Students and Families,’ she says, ‘I hope this letter finds you well and that you are enjoying your summer’ . . . blah, blah, blah, you get the idea.”
“Yes!” Zoey said, tapping her fingers on the table.
“Okay . . . ‘As well as introducing myself, I’m writing to announce some exciting changes at Mapleton Preparatory. First, we will be expanding the music department—’ ”
“Music department!” Zoey groaned. “Priti. You’re killing me. Get to the uniform part, please!”
“Patience, patience,” Priti teased her. “Just kidding. Here it is . . . ‘And finally, after extensive thought and debate, we will no longer be requiring students to wear uniforms.’ ” She paused and waited for Zoey’s reaction. “Zoey? Are you there? Did you faint or something?”
Adele Whitby wishes she lived in a grand manor home with hidden rooms and tucked-away nooks and crannies, but instead she lives in the next best thing—a condo in Florida with her husband and their two dogs, Molly and Mack. When she’s not busy writing, you can usually find her reading and relaxing on the beach under a big umbrella. She loves getting lost in a good story, especially one set in a faraway place and time.
Look for more Secrets of the Manor books at your favorite store!
Simon Spotlight
Simon & Schuster
New York
Meet the author, watch videos, and get extras at
KIDS.SimonandSchuster.com
authors.simonandschuster.com/Adele-Whitby
WE HOPE YOU LOVED READING THIS EBOOK!
We have SO many more books for kids in the in-beTWEEN age that we’d love to share with you! Sign up for our IN THE MIDDLE books newsletter and you’ll receive news about other great books, exclusive excerpts, games, author interviews,
and more!
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com/middle
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON SPOTLIGHT
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This Simon Spotlight paperback edition May 2015
Copyright © 2015 by Simon and Schuster, Inc. Text by Ellie O’Ryan.
Cover illustrations by Francesca Resta. Interior illustrations by Jaime Zollars.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. SIMON SPOTLIGHT and colophon are registered trademarks of
Simon & Schuster, Inc. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or business@simonandschuster.com.
Designed by Laura Roode. The text of this book was set in Adobe Caslon Pro.
Jacket illustrations by Francesca Resta · Patterns by Jaime Zollars
Jacket illustrations by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ISBN 978-1-4814-3992-3 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-3991-6 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-3993-0 (eBook)
Library of Congress Control Number 2014947119