The Bling Queen Read online

  “Great!” they answer, and they begin moving along the wall of bookshelves, examining each nook and cranny. I settle myself on the couch and wait for one of them to join me.

  “I have a question,” Gianna begins. “You know that locket you were wearing earlier? Is it possible to borrow that?”

  “No, sorry,” I say, placing my hand over my empty chest, as if expecting it to be there. I took all of my accessories off before anyone arrived, and placed the loanable items on the shelves and the off-limits pieces next to my computer. “That was a gift from my grandmother, so I can’t risk anything happening to it.”

  “Understood.” Gianna nods.

  “But I do have some other great long chains with charms hanging off them, if that’s what you’re looking for,” I tell her, standing up and walking over to my necklace section. I hear footsteps on the stairs and look over the tops of the shelves to see Deirdre and Bree barreling down them. I wave hello and point them to my bed. “Do you guys want to sit there? Or you’re welcome to join us on this side, if you want.”

  “We’ll stay here,” Bree says, flopping down on top of my comforter. Deirdre is poking at her phone, not paying attention, and she walks straight into the edge of my desk.

  “Ouch. Where’d that come from?” she asks.

  “How about if you stop texting for a second and maybe you won’t trip over your own feet?” Bree answers her. I leave them on their own and disappear back behind the bookshelves, putting all of my attention on my customers, just as a good business owner should.

  Chapter 16

  A half hour later the first Bling Queen open house is going better than I ever could have imagined. After our talk, Gianna chose a rhinestone flower comb to place in her hair—we decided during her consultation that she should pull her hair into a ponytail in order to better show off the lacy detail on the shoulders of the shirt she picked to wear on Friday. Ellie decided on a pair of black suspenders decorated with bright pink hearts to wear with the simple turtleneck and flared skirt she plans on sporting. And Natasha went for a mood ring, which we agree will be an easy way of starting a conversation with someone at the dance.

  I have each of the girls sign Bling Queen contracts, which I created and printed out before they arrived, specifying what they’re borrowing and that they are aware they will owe me an additional five dollars if anything is lost, broken, or stained. I collect the cash they give me in a faux fur change purse, an item that I have been eager to use for years. Finally I have found the perfect reason—my very first non-allowance, non-gift money. Somehow earning it on my own makes the dollar bills look so much more special than when they are simply given to me in a birthday card.

  I hear the doorbell ring again, and I wait for the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Deirdre and Bree are both still sprawled out on my bed, each lost in the goings-on within her own phone, and I can barely hear over Gianna’s, Ellie’s, and Natasha’s excited chatter. When a few more seconds go by and no additional customers appear, I yell Toby’s name. Nothing.

  “Excuse me one second, guys,” I say, and I sprint up the stairs, ready to yell at Toby about not forcing any of my customers to take a tour of the LEGO sets in his room. But when I reach the foyer, Toby is nowhere to be found, and I fling the front door open myself.

  Where I find Kayte and Ava waiting. Together.

  Silently but together.

  “Um, hi,” I say. “You came?” This comes out as more of a question toward Kayte than I meant it to.

  “I said I would,” she answers without emotion.

  “I’m here with Mimi’s finished scarf, and the jacket from Mom,” Ava pipes up. “Is Mimi here?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I tell her, opening the door wider for both of them to enter. “Are your parents with you?” I shut the door behind them.

  “My dad’s in the car, stuck on a conference call,” Ava says. “You have people over?”

  “Yes, I started a—” But I am interrupted by the sound of the doorbell again. “Sorry, just a second. Kayte, if you want to head downstairs, Ava can show you where the basement door is. And I think Mimi is in the living room.” I open the front door and find three more sixth graders waiting. “Come in, come in,” I greet them. “Gianna, Ellie, and Natasha are downstairs. They’ve already picked out their accessories.”

  I lead the new girls through the house and down the basement steps, where I find not only the five people I initially left down here, but also Kayte, Ava, and Toby.

  “Toby, you’re supposed to be manning the front door, remember?” I ask him, trying to shoo him back up the steps. But Toby is deep into a game of Thumb War with Ellie, and he shows no sign of listening anytime soon. Meanwhile, Kayte and Ava both stand in the center of the room, looking around with their mouths open.

  “When did you move down here?” Ava asks.

  “Right before Mimi moved in,” I explain. “She took my room.”

  “It’s— Wow,” she says. “You’re even more spoiled than I thought.” She says this last part under her breath, but I hear it anyway. But I really don’t have time to let Ava get to me right now, not when I have three more customers to attend to.

  “Toby, move it or lose it,” I say, taking him by the shoulders and hauling him to the other side of the room. “Here, girls.” I gesture for the three new sixth graders to follow me. “Let me show you the ropes.” I take them on a brief tour of Blingingham Palace, forcing myself to talk more and more loudly as the people around me become noisier and noisier. My new room feels huge when it’s just me down here, but with all of these extra people, it is suddenly claustrophobic.

  And deafening.

  “Um, excuse me.” I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to find Deirdre facing me. “Why is Reynolds here?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “But I really can’t talk about it right now.”

  “You should have told me she was coming,” Deirdre says. “I didn’t come here to hang out with Kayte Reynolds.”

  “I didn’t really have a choice,” I try to explain. “Can we please just talk about this later? I have to take care of my customers.”

  Deirdre raises her eyebrows at this. “Well, you seem very busy,” she says, a biting tone in her voice. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “No, Deirdre. I didn’t mean—” I begin, but Deirdre raises her hand to stop me.

  “It’s fine,” she says. “But I’m certainly not going to sit here with Kayte lurking around. I have things to do.”

  She marches out of Blingingham Palace and back to the other side of my room in a huff. I catch Bree’s eye, hoping she’ll do something to appease Deirdre, but she merely shrugs and turns back to her phone. I want to stop Deirdre, to put an end to this argument before it gets out of hand. But one of the sixth graders steps in front of me, grabbing my attention. And by the time I look toward the other side of the room again, Deirdre is gone.

  I resolve to push that issue out of my mind for now, like any good business owner should, and concentrate on my customers instead. Even the girls who only planned to get a consultation end up borrowing a piece once they see my collection, so by the end of the open house, I’ve collected thirty dollars in my furry leopard change purse. Ava has already disappeared from the room, I’m guessing to go give Mimi her scarf and jacket, and Kayte left without saying good-bye (of course). I take the sixth graders back up the stairs and outside to their parents’ waiting cars. I hug them each good-bye and thank them.

  “Phew,” I say to myself when I enter the house again, and I walk into the kitchen to find Mimi at the table.

  “Did Ava leave?” I ask her.

  “She did,” Mimi answers. “How did it go? You certainly seemed busy.”

  “It was great,” I answer. “But Bree is still here. I have to go talk to her, since she came to be supportive.”

  “Of course,” Mimi says. “Have fun.” I trot downstairs and find Bree playing SLAP with Toby, his hands hovering over her palms as she sneaki
ly tries to flip hers around and slap the tops of his. Toby is giggling loudly, and I begin to pull him by one foot off the bed.

  “Let’s go. I really have to talk to Bree now,” I say. “Shoo, or else Tickle Claws is going to . . .” The tips of my fingers approach Toby’s armpits, which is the only surefire way to get him to move quickly. He leaps off the bed with a squeal and runs upstairs, still giggling, and I collapse on top of my comforter.

  “I’m exhausted,” I say. “This running-a-business nonsense is harder than it looks.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” Bree says. “It was crazy in here.”

  “Thanks for coming,” I tell her. “I appreciate it. Really.”

  “No worries,” Bree says. “But just one question—”

  “Why was Kayte Reynolds here, I know,” I fill in for her. “It’s a long story. I was kind of forced to ask her in front of Ms. Castleby today, but I never thought she’d actually show up.”

  “She was probably spying,” Bree says. “So she can start copying your business idea, too, just like she copied your journal.”

  “I don’t think she copied my journal, believe it or not,” I tell Bree. “I think both of us may have been mimicking Miscellaneous Moxie’s posts, without knowing the other one was doing it.”

  “But what are the chances that you both write about glitter on the same day?” Bree asks. “That’s super-shady.”

  “Well, I mean, you saw Deirdre’s belt . . . ,” I begin. “It’s possible that thing just caught both of our attentions, right?”

  “I guess,” Bree says. “I still think it’s weird that she came.”

  “I do too,” I say. “Hey, I know you don’t really want to talk about it, but any word on first chair yet?”

  “Nope. They’re supposed to post it on Friday,” Bree says. “I know I bombed the audition, though. I totally messed up the D-scale. They’ll probably kick me out of band for being so terrible.”

  “You say that every time, and every time you’re brilliant,” I tell her.

  “Not this time,” Bree says. “Now are we going to discuss the real issue at hand?”

  “Deirdre?” I ask.

  “Bingo,” Bree says. “I mean, trust me, it’s not like I was happy to see Kayte walk in, but I wasn’t going to storm out over it. What did she say to you?”

  “She was mad Kayte was here, and that I hadn’t told her beforehand that Kayte would be coming,” I say. “But I feel like there has to be more to the story. She was on her phone the whole time, and she rushed out claiming she had ‘things to do.’ ”

  “Do you think she was going to see Rocco?” Bree asks.

  “I honestly have no idea,” I say. “If she was, I really think she must like Rocco, for real. There’s no way she’d be acting this way if he were just her friend.”

  “Even if he is just her friend, we’ve been her best friends for years. He’s been around for—what?—a week?” Bree asks. “Why should a new friend take priority over us?”

  “Right,” I say. “I guess I should call her, but she probably won’t even answer.”

  “If she does, let me know what she says,” Bree tells me, lifting herself up from my bed. “So not to run, but . . .”

  “You have to run,” I fill in.

  “Piano lessons,” she says. As if on cue, a streak of light grows across the basement stairs, and Mimi’s feet appear one step at a time as she descends them.

  “Deirdre, dear,” she says as she reaches the bottom. “Your mom is outside.”

  “This is Bree, Mimi,” I remind her as Bree crosses the room to kiss Mimi on her cheek.

  “Oh, of course,” Mimi says. “How are you, dear?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Bree answers as she walks back to get her things off my bed. “So sorry I have to go.”

  “No problem,” I say. “I’ll walk you out so Toby can’t get a hold of you again.” Bree follows me up the stairs and through the foyer, and once she is out the front door, I sit down with my back against it and close my eyes, grateful for at least a few seconds of non-accessorized quiet.

  Chapter 17

  When picking out my outfit the next morning, I decide that I have to be extra aware of what I wear to school from now on. After all, I’m pretty much a walking advertisement for my business, so if I want more customers, I should really look the part. I choose a fairly simple outfit so that I can let my accessories shine: jeans with a brown stitching detail running up the hems (very cowgirl-esque) with a plain white button-down shirt. I slip brown ankle-boots onto my feet, and then I walk up and down the accessory side of Blingingham Palace, deciding.

  I pick up a light tan leather stretchy headband and pull it over my head and then up through my hair, pushing the strands off my face. I arrange it using the small mirror I keep propped up on top of the bookshelves, making sure there’s some volume in the hair above my forehead, or else the headband would look too severe. I pull my gold spiral earrings out of their container and poke them through my holes. They look just enough like lassos to fit my theme, but not too much so that it’s cheesy. I choose two large statement rings and place one on each hand. Then I weave a thin gold chain through the loops of my jeans instead of a belt. Almost perfect.

  I cross to the other side of the room and slip my watch, bangle, and beaded bracelet onto my right wrist, deciding to leave my left wrist empty, just for today. Then I latch my Tess necklace around my neck and reach down to add my locket.

  No locket.

  I sift through the other off-limits pieces that I had left here before the open house to make sure the locket isn’t hidden under one of them.

  Still no locket.

  Oh no.

  No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

  I run back over to Blingingham Palace and search frantically in my necklace section, hoping with all hopes that I accidentally placed it here last night. Nothing.

  I dart back over to my desk and crawl underneath it, pawing at the carpet and sweeping my hands from side to side, wishing that it had fallen on the ground. Still nothing.

  With shaky hands I dig my phone out of my bag and call Bree.

  “Did you see anyone take my locket?” I ask as soon as she answers.

  “Huh?” Bree’s voice still sounds groggy with sleep.

  “Yesterday, did you see anyone take my locket?” I ask again. “I had it on my desk with the other jewelry I wasn’t loaning out, and it’s missing.”

  “I don’t think so,” Bree says. “I didn’t see anyone go near your desk, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “This is bad, Bree,” I say. “Bad, bad, bad. I need to find it. Mimi gave it to me, and her grandmother gave it to her, and—”

  “Okay, okay, calm down,” Bree says. “Let’s think about this. You know you had it when you got home from school, right?”

  “Yes,” I answer with certainty. “I definitely remember placing it on my desk, because I laid it down in a way so that the chain wouldn’t get tangled.”

  “So that means it had to be someone who was there last night,” Bree says. “And you know it wasn’t me, so that’s one suspect down.”

  “Would one of the sixth graders have stolen it, do you think?” I ask. “I mean, maybe without knowing the jewelry on the desk was off-limits? I don’t know if I explained that part to the second group that came in.”

  “Maybe,” Bree says. “We don’t know if there were any kleptos among us.”

  “Thanks, real helpful,” I say sarcastically.

  “Sorry,” Bree says. “But we really don’t know if it was them, so let’s decide who it definitely wasn’t. Toby?”

  “It could totally be Toby,” I say. “Gosh, I really, really hope it was Toby. That would make it so much easier.”

  “Then ask Toby,” Bree says. “Before school, and if you don’t get anywhere with him, we’ll come up with a new plan.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I say quietly.

  “What was that?”

  I sigh
. “I’m afraid it wasn’t Toby. Because if it was someone else—Kayte or Ava or one of the sixth graders or . . . Deirdre—that’s so much worse.”

  “Come on. Deirdre wouldn’t do that,” Bree says. “She knows how important your stuff is to you.”

  “Exactly, and she was mad,” I say. “She left in a huff last night, and she hasn’t sent me a single text since, or called me back. Maybe she took it out of spite.”

  “Maybe,” Bree says. “Or more likely, Kayte took it. Shady McShaderson.”

  “Or Ava,” I suggest. “She’s mad at me too. Really, how am I supposed to know who I can trust?”

  “You can trust me,” Bree says. “I promise, I didn’t take it. Go try to shake some information out of your brother.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Pray that he has it.”

  “Crossing my fingers, toes, legs, arms, and tongue now,” Bree says. “Good luck.” I hang up and throw my phone back into my bag before hurrying up the stairs.

  “Toby!” I call as soon as I reach the top. “I need to speak to you!”

  I meet Toby in his room, away from Mom’s, Dad’s, or Mimi’s ears. None of them can know that the locket is missing, especially not Mimi. She’s the one who trusted me with it, and the one who defended me to Mom. I need to try to fix this first on my own.

  “Do you want to make a deal?” I ask him. Toby sits up straighter on his bed, and I can tell he’s intrigued.

  “What kind of deal?” he asks.

  “How would you like to make five dollars?” I ask him.

  “Very, very much!” Toby answers.

  “So do you agree that you will do whatever I say right now, and I’ll give you five dollars?” I ask. Losing five bucks from my earnings last night is the least I can do to get my locket back.

  “Yes!” Toby answers. “What is it?”

  “I need you to give me every single thing you’ve taken from my room,” I say. “Right now. This is very important. And if I get each item back—and I know exactly what is missing—you will get your five dollars, fair and square. Got it?”