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  “My grandma still isn’t supposed to drive,” Morgan told them. “But my mom said she can come home from —”

  “My mom can take us,” offered Chelsea. “No problem.”

  So it was settled. They would meet at Morgan’s house at nine and ride to the church with Chelsea. As they left the clubhouse, Carlie noticed that Amy was sticking to Chelsea like superglue as they led the way back to the mobile-home park. She even invited Chelsea to wait for her mom to pick her up at her house. And, for a change, Chelsea agreed and didn’t even seem to mind hanging with Amy — probably because of that stupid thing about boys.

  As usual, Emily and Morgan were paired off, walking up ahead of Carlie on the sandy trail. Suddenly Carlie felt totally left out. In the past, she was usually stuck with Amy. Okay, “stuck with” wasn’t a nice way of putting it. But sometimes Amy and her perfectionist ways got on Carlie’s nerves. And sometimes Amy even reminded Carlie of her mom. Even so, it was better than being left out … better than being alone.

  “See ya in the morning,” yelled Morgan as she and Emily headed over to her house.

  “Be there or be square,” yelled back Amy as she and Chelsea went across the street to her house.

  “Bye …” called Carlie, feeling lame and left out as she trudged back to her house.

  “Hey, mija,” said Mom as Carlie came in through the kitchen door. “How was your meeting?”

  “Okay …”

  Mom leaned down and looked into Carlie’s eyes. “Something wrong?”

  “No,” said Carlie in a sharp tone.

  “Well.” Mom stood up and blinked.

  “Sorry,” mumbled Carlie. “I better go finish packing my stuff.”

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  Carlie looked at her mom with interest. “What?”

  “You go finish packing, and I’ll get it.”

  So Carlie went to her room where she began stuffing things like socks and underwear and T-shirts into her bag.

  “Is that how you pack?” said Mom as she came into her room with something behind her back.

  Carlie looked up and frowned. “Yeah.”

  “No, no, no,” said Mom as she sat down on the bed, setting down whatever it was she had behind her. Then she removed several items of wadded up clothes from Carlie’s duffle bag, carefully laying each item out on the bed and smoothing it, then she folded them — perfectly. “Like this,” she told Carlie. “Then you won’t be all wrinkled when you get there, mija.”

  “I don’t care about wrinkles,” grumbled Carlie.

  “But don’t you want to look nice?”

  Carlie shrugged. “It’s a ski trip, Mom. Who cares how you look?” Of course, even as she said this, she knew that her friends — at least some of them — cared.

  Then Mom reached behind her back. “I got you something for your trip,” she said as she produced a pink and white polka dot bag.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s for your personal items, Carlotta. You know, things like toothpaste and deodorant and even lip gloss.” She smiled as she held up a cherry-flavored stick. “And I filled it up for you.” Then she held the bag out to show the contents.

  “Uh, thanks.” Carlie forced a smile.

  “And I want you to use these things, mija. You don’t want to go around like a bum for three days, do you?”

  “No …”

  Mom frowned now. “I thought you had started to care about your appearance, mija — when you and Chelsea went shopping for school things.”

  Carlie nodded. “Yeah, I do care.” Mostly Carlie had been relieved to be freed from wearing all the frilly, littlegirl clothes that her mother had been so in love with. And she’d been thrilled to cut her long curls. But, most of all, Carlie just wanted to make her own decisions when it came to her appearance. She didn’t want her mom telling her how to do her hair or folding her clothes or picking out lip gloss for her. Really, was that too much to ask?

  Mom patted her head now. “You’re such a pretty girl, Carlotta. I just always want you to look your best.”

  “I know …”

  “And you’re getting to the age when you’ll start to care more too. And …” Mom giggled. “You’ll realize that boys are starting to look your way and —”

  Just then both of Carlie’s brothers started wailing and crying like someone was being murdered. For once in her life, Carlie was glad to hear them getting into a great big fight, probably over a new Christmas toy or the remote control to the TV. But they were really getting into it.

  “You finish packing.” Mom quickly stood. “While I go break it up.”

  Then after Mom was safely out of the room, Carlie quietly closed her door, muffling the sounds of her screaming brothers. Once again she began wadding up her clothes and stuffing them into her duffle. She didn’t care if they were wrinkled. Weren’t they her clothes? Didn’t a girl have the right to wear wrinkled clothes if she wanted to?

  After she was done making a fine mess of her bag, she picked up the frilly looking pink and white polka dot bag and just stared at it. It looked like something Amy would like, but it definitely was not Carlie’s style. What was Mom trying to say to her anyway? That Carlie needed to look or act like Chelsea or Amy? Did Mom want Carlie to act silly and get boy crazy too? Even so, Carlie felt a little guilty when she shoved it into the top drawer of her dresser and slammed it shut. There — that was just where she intended to leave it!

  Carlie wasn’t sure why she felt so strongly about these things, but she did. She wanted to be her own person. She didn’t need Mom or anyone else telling her how to act and dress! She could take care of herself!

  chapter three

  As Carlie carried her duffle bag over to Morgan’s house, trudging down the street in the chilly gray morning, she felt uneasy. Maybe going on this ski trip wasn’t such a great idea after all. What if Morgan and Emily paired off … and what if Amy and Chelsea paired off … and what if Carlie was left on her own? What would she do? Still, she had worked hard and paid a lot of money for this trip. She couldn’t back down now. Besides, all four girls were her friends. They wouldn’t just abandon her — would they?

  Later on that morning, as all five girls filled up the two backseats of one of the church vans, Carlie couldn’t help but feel better. Here she was with her four best friends, laughing and joking and going away for three whole days of fun and snow. With no little brothers to take care of, and — even better — no mom to tell her how to dress or act.

  “Woo-hoo!” yelled Carlie as they pulled out of the church parking lot. Her friends all echoed her woo-hoo with gusto, and then they all burst out laughing. Carlie grinned happily as she sat in the backseat with Morgan and Emily. Life was good!

  “I’m so glad you got your beads back,” Carlie told Morgan as she gave a couple of the beaded braids a friendly jingle. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I thought your beads were so much better than the curly look.”

  “Me too,” admitted Morgan.

  Carlie tugged on one of her own curls. “Sometimes I wish I could do something like that myself. Then I wouldn’t have to brush my hair every day.”

  “Why don’t you?” asked Morgan.

  “No way would Mom let me. She thinks it’s bad enough that I cut my hair. If she couldn’t see my curls, she’d have a fit.”

  Chelsea turned around in the seat in front of them. “I wonder how I’d look with beaded braids,” she asked as she patted her red curls.

  Morgan seemed to study her seriously, but it also looked like she wanted to laugh. “It might work.”

  “I’m so glad the boys and girls are riding in separate vans,” said Emily.

  “Not me,” said Chelsea. “I think the boys kinda spice things up.”

  “You mean stink things up,” said Carlie. She stuck her nose in the air as if to make her point, and they all laughed.

  “Hey, did you guys meet Whitney yet?” asked Morgan quietly.

  “I did,” said Emily
. “She seemed nice.”

  Amy turned around now. “Who is she anyway?”

  “She’s the girl with short brown hair sitting next to Janna in front,” said Morgan.

  “Who’s Janna?” asked Chelsea.

  “She’s the youth leader,” said Emily with an impatient tone, like she wondered if Chelsea ever paid attention. “The one who was standing with Cory when we prayed in the parking lot.”

  “She’s really pretty,” said Chelsea.

  “Anyway, Whitney is Janna’s youngest sister,” continued Morgan. “Janna’s parents just moved to Boscoe Bay a couple weeks ago. Whitney will be going to school with us after the new year.”

  “Yeah,” added Emily. “And Janna asked us to make her feel at home.”

  “Are we there yet?” whined Chelsea, and everyone laughed since they were barely out of town.

  “I’m hungry,” teased Carlie. That was one of Pedro’s favorite lines.

  “I need to go potty,” added Emily.

  Janna glanced in the rear view mirror. “You guys!” But then she was laughing with them. And before long, she had them all singing those corny kinds of camp songs that everyone says they hate, but somehow everyone knows the words to and enjoys singing them loudly. Naturally, Carlie was no exception. Good thing she’d gone to day camp a few times before they’d moved to the coast. And she had to admit, at least to herself, she kind of liked the funny old songs. Plus, they helped pass the time.

  About two-thirds of the way there, they stopped for an early lunch break, pouring into McDonald’s and confusing the cashiers as they made, then changed their orders. Finally it was sorted out who got what, and Cory told everyone that they had just fifteen minutes to chow down if they wanted to get any skiing in today. Of course, that got everyone moving quickly, and before long they loaded back into the vans. They arrived at the ski resort just a little past noon, and everyone piled out of the van and immediately started throwing snowballs and jumping into the mounds of snow heaped alongside the parking lot.

  “Let’s unload our stuff,” Cory yelled at the kids. “And dump it in our cabins so we can hit the slopes ASAP. You guys only have a half-day lift ticket for today, but you better get moving if you want to use it.”

  Everyone scrambled to get their stuff piled onto some of the sturdy-looking luggage carts that a couple of the boys had rounded up.

  “Okay, girls, come with me,” called Janna as she pointed down a trail. “Our cabin should be right this way.”

  “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to the snow we go,” sang out Morgan, and soon the others were singing with her, making up more new and even sillier words as they marched along.

  “Here we are,” announced Janna. She opened the door to a high-ceiling cabin filled with six sets of bunk beds. “It’s not the Ritz, I know, but I think it’ll do for the next couple of nights.” Then she opened a big yellow envelope and handed out ski passes as well as cafeteria passes. “The cafeteria passes are just for lunches,” she explained. “We’ll all be eating together in the Spruce dining room for breakfasts and dinners. But lunch is sort of a free-for-all.” Then she gave them each a schedule as well as a list of rules. “I don’t want to have to say too much about the rules,” she told them. “I’d like to think that you girls are mature and responsible. We tried to keep the rules simple … mostly common sense and a few manners. We do want you to have fun, but we want you to be considerate of others. We’re not the only ones using the slopes.”

  “So, Janna,” said Morgan, sounding slightly impatient, “When do we actually hit the slopes?”

  Carlie tossed her backpack onto a lower bunk, and then Emily snagged the bunk above it. But, like Morgan, Carlie was feeling impatiently eager too. She couldn’t wait to strap on a snowboard.

  “Okay, I’ll try to keep this short,” said Janna. “But before you all take off, I want to introduce everyone to everyone. We left town so quickly that we totally forgot to do that.” She had the eleven girls stand in a circle then said a quick prayer, asking God to keep them all safe and to make these three days very special and memorable. After that, she asked the girls to go around the circle and tell everyone their name, age, and favorite food. “And you better pay close attention,” she warned them, “we’ll have a few more favorite questions in the next few days, and whichever girl remembers the most facts could win a pretty nice prize by the time we leave.”

  Naturally this got their enthusiasm going, and Carlie decided she would pay careful attention — the idea of winning a prize was appealing.

  “Since I haven’t met everyone yet, I’ll be gin,” said Janna. “Obviously, I’m Janna Olson. I’m married to Cory, the youth pastor. I’m twenty-five, and my favorite food is pasta — any kind of pasta.” She patted her waist, which was actually fairly slender. “If pasta didn’t have so many carbs, I’d probably eat it three times a day.” They all laughed, and then Janna pointed at her younger sister. “You take it away, sis.”

  “I’m Whitney Phelps, I’m thirteen, and my favorite food is sushi.”

  “Cool,” said Chelsea, who was standing next to her. “Sushi is my favorite too. I’m Chelsea Landers, and I’m also thirteen.” She jabbed Emily who was standing beside her. “Next.”

  “I’m Emily, uh, Chambers —”

  “Huh?” said Janna with a confused expression. “I thought you were Emily Adams.”

  “My real name is Chambers,” said Emily. She looked embarrassed, and Carlie felt bad for her. “It’s a long story, but my family and I will be going by Chambers from now on.”

  “Oh.” Janna nodded slowly. “Okay, continue.”

  Emily smiled at everyone. “I’m also thirteen, and my favorite food is pizza with lots of cheese.”

  “I’m Laura Miller,” said a plump girl with frizzy blonde hair. Carlie had noticed her in school before, but had never really spoken to her. “I’m fourteen, and my favorite food is french fries, although my mom keeps telling me that carrot sticks would be a better choice.”

  Chelsea snickered, and Carlie wanted to punch her.

  “Next,” said Janna, nodding to the tall, thin girl with long black braids and a not-so-good complexion. Carlie already knew her name was Julie because she’d gone out for soccer, although she wasn’t very good. But that was about all she knew about her.

  “I’m Julie Bryn, I’m fourteen too, and my favorite food is the same as Janna’s. Pasta.”

  “What’s up with you skinny chicks liking pasta?” teased Laura.

  “I’m Cassie Caldwell,” said a short girl with long brown hair. “I’ll be thirteen next week, and my favorite food is peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”

  “Just like Elvis Presley?” said Morgan.

  Cassie nodded. “Uh-huh. My grandpa is a huge Elvis fan, and he told me about the sandwich.”

  Now it was Carlie’s turn, and she made a face, hating to admit her age since everyone usually thought she was older. “I’m Carlie Garcia. And I’m still just twelve, but not for too much longer. My favorite food is my mom’s apple spice empanadas.”

  “Mmm,” said Janna. “That sounds good.”

  “I’m Morgan Evans, I’m thirteen, and my favorite food is pizza.” Emily reached over and gave her a high five.

  “I’m Amy Ngo and, like Carlie, I’m twelve, and my favorite food is chicken quesadillas.”

  They continued around the circle with Erin Simpson and Taylor Richey, two fourteen-year-old eighth grade girls who Carlie had seen around school, but didn’t really know. Apparently they were best friends and had been in youth group longer than anyone, and they both liked vegetarian lasagna.

  “Well, all this food talk is making me hungry,” said Janna. “And I’m sure some of you are itching to get on the mountain. But before we go to the rental place, for those of you who need equipment, I want to point out the first rule on your list. The buddy system.” Janna looked out over the group. “The thing is, skiing and riding can be dangerous, and we do not want anyone out there on their own. S
o we’re all pairing off right now. You will be responsible for your buddy, and your buddy will be responsible for you. You’ll probably want to choose a buddy whose skiing or riding ability is at about the same level as yours. If you decide to switch buddies, you have to make sure that everyone’s in agreement and that I am aware of it. Does that seem reasonable enough?”

  They all immediately agreed, and suddenly everyone was deciding whom to pair off with, and Carlie wasn’t sure what to do. Chelsea grabbed Emily by the arm. “Come on, Em,” Chelsea said eagerly. “Let’s be buddies. You’re a good rider, and so am I.”

  “I, uh, thought I’d be Morgan’s buddy,” said Emily, looking at Morgan hopefully.

  Morgan nodded and stepped next to Emily. “Yeah. Sorry, Chelsea. Emily’s been my teacher; I need to stick with her.”

  Chelsea frowned then turned to Carlie, like she was a second choice, but might do in a squeeze. Naturally, Carlie found this slightly irritating. “Are you going to snowboard, Carlie?” Chelsea asked.

  She folded her arms across her front now, unsure as to whether she wanted to be paired with Chelsea or not. Yet at the same time, she didn’t want to be left out. “Yes,” she admitted, “I thought I would try it.”

  “So you’ve never ridden before?” asked Whitney with interest.

  Carlie felt self-conscious now. “No, not really …”

  “How about skateboarding?” asked Emily. “Have you ever skateboarded?”

  Carlie brightened. “Yeah. My best friend before we moved here was a skater, and her big brother made a half-pipe in their backyard. I used to borrow a board and do that with them sometimes.”

  “Were you any good?” asked Whitney.

  Carlie shrugged. “I guess I was okay.”

  “Well, that’s a lot like snowboarding,” said Emily. “You’ll probably be fine. I’ve been teaching Morgan to ride on my skateboard, and I think she’s going to be okay too.”

  “So want to be my buddy, Carlie?” asked Whitney.