FIFTEEN

It’s Saturday morning, and my bedroom looks like it’s been transformed into one of the dressing rooms backstage at the Kids’ Choice Awards. My scout squad bustles around, taking turns standing in the mirror, modeling our custom Lucy’s Looks costumes, made especially for the “Cookie Monster” music video.

“I really like that blingy vest with the matching QUEEN snapback on you,” Lucy says to me, pointing to the embellishment. “The retro green joggers with the sequins symmetrically sewn down the side are everything.”

She’s right, too, I think, sticking out my leg and waving my hand down my side. Lucy put her heart into designing all of our outfits last night. “I didn’t sleep a wink,” she kept repeating to us all morning over orange juice and blueberry bagels. It paid off, though: Every detail is purrr-fect and now we look like true scout superstars.

“I’m in love,” Stella Rose says, pulling up her bedazzled pants, which match mine. “These joggers should be in your shop.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that already!” Lucy blushes, flipping her newly colored purple hair over her shoulder while I pose in the mirror.

“So, which scout are you?” Stella Rose asks. “Tomboy scout?”

“Why does everything have to always involve boys?” I ask, standing up straight to face her. “Just call me sporty scout.”

Lucy nods at me and snaps a picture with her very professional camera. She said she was going to use our pics for the digital portfolio on her website. I don’t blame her; our costumes are killer.

Lucy turns to Stella Rose and hands her a pair of nerdy retro eyeglasses. “Put these on. They complete your look.”

“But I’m already wearing my own glasses,” she says.

“They don’t really relay the vibe.”

“And what vibe is that?” Stella Rose asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“B is sporty scout and you’re… well, you’re nerdy scout,” Lucy says, shrugging. “Makes sense to me.”

“How about we call me techie scout instead? I don’t like the connotation that nerd carries.”

“Sure,” Lucy says, shoving her left hand into her hip. “Whatever it takes to get you to put these glasses on and pose for your shot.”

Stella Rose pushes the glasses up her nose and flips her long pigtails with the big, barreled curls over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready for my picture,” she says, snapping the green-and-brown-checkered suspenders over her polo shirt. She grins into the camera. “I could really get into these.”

“The matching bow tie is my fave,” Lyric says, pulling her socks over her knee to polish off her sassy scout look. She stands up and tugs at the green-and-brown-pleated miniskirt, which is the same as Lucy’s. Then she poofs her blond Afro as big as it’ll go. “And my rock star hair is wicked!”

“What kind of scout are you supposed to be?” Stella Rose asks Lucy, who’s outfitted in everything blingy—from her hair bows and eyebrows down to her shoelaces. “I’m fashion scout, of course.”

I spin around when I hear the doorbell. “Our backup dancers are here!”

“Perfect timing,” Lucy says, grabbing up their hair bows and necklaces from the bed.

I skip down the hall and swing open the door to see Magic in her HoneyBee cheer uniform.

“Hiya, B,” she says, shaking her butt and beatboxing between rapping. “It’s time to get our dance on!”

I look past my favorite HoneyBee and see Winnie and LuLu beaming back at me. I can’t help but squeal, “The Stumbles! You guys actually came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Winnie says, batting her lashes at me from her decorated wheelchair. “You love it, don’t you? I know you do!” She points to the wheels with green, pink, and red coverings. “You said this was the color scheme for the shoot.”

“Are those cookies sewn into the fabric on top of your spokes?” I swoon at both her creativity and her commitment to the branding. “You’re literally rolling on cookies. Thanks, Winn.” I watch her perfect a 360-degree spin on her back wheels, then I bend down and hug them both, whispering, “What would I do without my cheer squad?”

I step back and add, “Thanks for sending over the video of the dance routine. Now that we all know the steps and the song is ah-may-zing, it’s time to get to it.” I stop and count each of us on the porch. Then I look back at the pink Caddy—then back at all seven of us. “How are we all going to fit in that?” I ask, stumped. “I don’t think we thought this through.”

And right on cue, Betty Jean pulls in front of the house in a black Sprinter van, rolling down the window. She beeps the horn three times and yells, “Are my superstars ready?”

“That’s us?!” Lucy geeks, pointing to the cool ride with the blacked-out windows. “Betty Jean! You’re—”

“The best troop leader ever!” I yell, running to the curb.

We scramble to the van and load in before heading to the Pier with “Cookie Monster” playing on repeat. By the time Betty Jean pulls over on Ocean Ave, we’re yelling every word of our new song out the windows at all the passersby. And whenever anyone waves at us, we giggle and then hyperwave right back.

Not five minutes later, we’re making a beeline for the carnival at the end of the Pier, grabbing tickets so we can film on the rides. We hop on the Ferris wheel, waving at the Stumbles on the ground, as the ride takes us away. They shrink into tiny dots the farther toward heaven we climb. I take a sec to appreciate how much cooler Santa Monica looks from this top spot in the sky. The sparkly ocean seems to stretch for miles, straight into the horizon. I blissfully sigh.

“Okay, Lyric,” Stella Rose says, snapping me out of awe when the ride comes to a full stop. She balances the camera and directs us like a pro. “Start the song on your phone, and let’s get our footage before this thing moves again. It’s… showtime!”

We hear the first beat, and Stella Rose shoves the camera in my face as I sing along. I wave my arms around and bop my head especially hard when it gets to the chorus. I watch as Stella Rose masterfully pans the camera around to the Pacific Ocean. She makes sure to get shots of the surfers riding the waves before swinging back around to us. We belt the lyrics like it’s a live performance.

“Cut!” She lowers the camera and announces to the world, “That was poetic. Rapturous. Divine. Ethereal.”

“You got what we need?” Lyric asks as Stella Rose double-checks the footage.

“Okay, let’s do another take just to be on the safe side.” Stella Rose peers through the camera lens and flashes a thumbs-up. Lyric, obeying the bat signal, starts the music, and we take it from the top.

When we’re done, the ride swings around to the other side of Santa Monica. “That was premium stuff!” Stella Rose twists in her seat and pans the camera toward town. The houses on the boardwalk, the tiny people on the Pier, and, of course, the waves smashing against the shore all get their moment to shine in the imaginary spotlight.

“This is just for an establishing shot,” she boasts. “A really great establishing shot.”

When the ride finally stops to let us off, we race to the roller coaster.

“Let’s split up into two cars,” Lucy says as we hop on the ride. “I’ll ride with Lyric so Stella Rose can record B.”

We fasten our seat belts and take turns singing into the camera until the coaster takes off, whipping us around to the left and then to the right and then up a hill and then back down.

“Whoa!” I screech to Stella Rose, between yelling out the lyrics. “Are you getting it?”

Lyric yells back from the coaster seat behind me and Stella Rose, “Just keep singing!”

“Love your facials,” Stella Rose screams over the wind.

My hair is braided on both sides with my thick curls parted into a fauxhawk on top of my head, which would be really fresh if it weren’t blowing into my eyes. I try to pretend that everything’s just fine, even though I can’t see a thing and my hair keeps getting stuck to my front teeth.

Stella Rose films as the coaster whizzes around a curve and makes its final climb up the last hill.

“Hold on. I’m shooting the final drop,” she explains to us. “I need you guys to sing the chorus for this part. It’ll be an awesome aerial shot.”

We throw our hands into the air and sing our hearts out.

I’m your cookie monster.

No, not an impostor.

I’ll keep your cookies comin’.

Sell them by the dozen.

She turns to me, and I yell:

Sell them by the dozen.

“So cool,” Lucy yelps when the coaster comes to a screeching stop.

“Whew! Are we done?” I wring my hands in the air. “Because I’m pooped and that was kinda scary. Definitely not doing it again.”

Stella Rose checks out some of the footage and nods. “It’s in the can!” she yells, packing her camera into her bag. “That’s a wrap on the Pier.”

“You’re a real pro, girl,” Lyric says to Stella Rose as we head to the beach to join the StumbleBees, who are chasing each other around barefoot, playing in the water, and kicking up wet sand.

Winnie grips a Super Soaker water gun that I’m pretty sure belongs to one of the boys making a sandcastle by the shoreline, and I do my best to stay out of her way.

“There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,” Winnie chuckles, shooting everyone in sight, getting them more and more drenched.

Stella Rose rushes to grab her camera from her bag and starts recording. She captures the water fight, and by the time the Stumbles realize that she’s filming, they’re soaked. We’re in stitches, grabbing our bellies and laughing so hard we can’t catch our breath.

“Guys! Wait!” I screech. “Now you’ll be all soggy for the shoot.”

“But it’s going to look so cool,” Stella Rose explains. “You’ll love the visuals, B; just trust me.”

“Okay, but don’t frizz my ’fro,” I say, covering my fauxhawk. “Betty Jean worked on it all morning.”

Stella Rose shoots me a thumbs-up, and after several run-throughs of the song with the choreography, we notice a small group of people surrounding us.

An older lady and her gray-haired husband applaud after we finish the final take. One little girl who resembles a boy taking pics of the sandcastle even comes up to ask for a selfie.

“Told you this whole song and dance was going to be a smash,” Lyric says. “First you get the kids hooked, then you get the moms, then the rest of the world falls in line.”

“And just wait until we drop this video tomorrow. I’m going to stay up all night past lights-out and edit this baby,” Stella Rose boasts. “Piper Parker won’t know what hit her.”

After the last shot is captured, we load back into Betty Jean’s black superhero van, still excited, and on top of the world. Each of us takes turns blabbing on and on about the pure epicness of shooting at two of my fave spots—the Pier and the beach. We talk over each other, reliving every minute of the day, thrilled to be making art.

Betty Jean drops us off in front of Pinkberry, and we rush to line up on the Promenade, ready for our first shot in our new location. I try to ignore all the people who are bustling through the shopping complex, going in and out of all the cool stores.

The Stumbles line up in front of the pretzel shop, and Magic nods to let us know they’re all set. A few couples and an old man with a huge cinnamon pretzel start to form a semicircle around us, waiting to see what we have up our sleeves. I can’t take my eyes off the pretzel, and now I want a snack.

“Cue the music,” Stella Rose says to Lyric, and motions for the dancers to start the routine. I try to refocus and muddle through the first verse, causing Stella Rose to wince.

“Cut!” she yells after Magic does a series of spins to start the chorus.

“That was the first cousin to flawless,” Stella Rose announces. “B, uh—”

“I know, I know. My stomach is gurgling,” I spout back at her. “I need a snack.”

“No, it’s not you,” she says before clearing her throat a few times and bobbing her head in the direction of the Verizon store across the street. That’s when I spy Piper Parker and her entourage making fun of us in the distance. Piper points to Winnie and giggles, then to Magic, and then to the rest of us. Her hyena cackles bounce off the waffle stand behind her. Then, when she’s all laughed out, she turns away and parades down the street with her crew of meanies in her shadow, all mocking our dance sequence.

“Ignore her. You’re going to be a cookie sensation,” Magic says, grabbing my hand. “I’ve never done anything this major before.” Her eyes go wide, and she takes a really deep breath. “You’re making an actual music video. How amazy is that?! And Piper Parker doesn’t know anything; you’ll always be our cookie queen.”

The rest of the Stumbles nod in agreement, and Magic’s face brightens more than a few shades.

“Piper has no idea,” Lucy says, snarling at the entourage of venom in the distance. “What we’re about to drop is going to rock this town.”

Lyric folds her arms over her chest, and we all get back in formation to finish the scene. “Now, let’s hurry up and get this in the can because I’m with B—I desperately need a venti hot chocolate.”

A mom with two little girls and a stroller walks past us. She gives Stella Rose a five-dollar bill. “You girls are awesome. Let me know when your single comes out. My daughters love it.”

“And now I want to be sporty scout for Halloween,” one of the little girls in a frilly dress and patent leather shoes professes. Her mother smiles as she pulls the little girl away.

“Okay.” Her mom winks back at us. “Sporty scout it is.”

“See, it’s like I told you,” Lyric says, handing me the five-dollar bill. “First you get the kids, then you get the moms, then the rest of the world falls in line.”