TWENTY-FIVE
We march into the gymnasium, comparing notes on all the sales we managed to get in the last twenty-nine minutes.
“I can’t believe Principal Pootie didn’t budge,” Lucy says.
“He was right, though. Through this thing, I’ve learned a few valuable lessons, and one of them is to step up and use my voice to ask for what I want. And now I know I can do it.”
Lyric flashes a zillion-dollar smile at me just as the reporter moseys up to us with his camera in his hand.
“Hey, Brooklyn, how about a shot of you at the podium? Right next to the grand prize?” He points to the tickets to Disneyland and the shiny new bicycle on the big bee at center court. “Would be cool to have it for your big win over Piper.”
I can feel the smirk on my face tighten when I say, “Let’s just wait and see how things pan out.”
“But you’re the cookie comeback kid,” he says, reading from his notes. “If the number of eyes watching your music video was any indication, then you’re definitely the winner.” He shoves the camera in my face anyway. “This article practically writes itself.”
“Well, the comeback kid says that we’re going to wait and see, so we’re all about that patient life over here,” Lucy says, putting her hand in front of his lens and waving him off.
I check out some of the HoneyBees who are already on the court stretching.
“Looks like it’s go time,” I say as Lyric tugs on my cheer uniform and fluffs my rainbow braids, which have been parted into two big ponytails.
“Knock ’em dead,” she says, still holding my sash. “I’ll have this waiting when it’s your turn to switch back into your champion cookie scout uni.”
Stella Rose gushes, “You’re totally like Supergirl with all your superhero costumes.”
I pose and say, “Saving the world one toe touch and box of Chocolate Marvels at a time.”
“Break a leg,” Stella Rose says, getting her camera ready to record the HoneyBee routine. “I think this’ll be my opening shot. Then I’ll work my way backward through the story for the doc.”
I bend down to tighten the shoestrings on my sneakers. “I’ll make sure to give you lots of HoneyBee face.” I stand and flash jazz hands into the air.
I take my place beside a few of the other HoneyBees on the court as Magic and LuLu skip over to me, leaving a few of their new adoring fans in the bleachers.
“Did you see that?” Magic hugs me and points at Mr. Reynolds, who’s under the basket doing some of the “Cookie Monster” dance moves with the sixth graders. “We’ve been getting tons of requests to do TikTok dance videos and to be—”
“In the school musical, too!” Winnie finishes, rolling up to us and finding her place in formation. “They asked if we’d be the lead dancers in The Wiz. They said we’d make perfect munchkins.”
“Now, that sounds like fun,” I admit. “That should be our next adventure.”
The principal interrupts us with his usual sputtering into the microphone. “Everyone, can I have your attention? Let’s get ready to start the rally with our very own Valentine Middle HoneyBees!”
LuLu spins around and checks out all the kids who are eye-stalking us. The way they’re staring is different today, and the gym is so quiet you can literally hear a pom-pom drop. “Guess what routine we’re doing today,” she announces to me.
“No way!” I yelp, just as the intro to “Cookie Monster” begins. And the crowd goes wild!
“Yeppers!” Magic yells, hitting her starting pose. “LuLu taught the rest of the HoneyBees the routine before school this morning.”
Magic starts the choreography and I rush to catch up. She motions for me to join, and the rest of the Stumbles pump their fists into the air. Dancing to our song in front of everyone and seeing the whole school hitting the choreo with us is so wild!
There’s only one person who isn’t enjoying this moment in time. That’s right—Piper Parker. She’s standing with Lindsay and Rachel, and her arms are folded over her chest. I smother a snortle when Lindsay breaks out into the routine and Piper nearly has a conniption. Between body rolls, I watch her stomp her feet and wave her arms over her head in front of Lindsay’s nose like an octopus. I feel bad for Lindsay, but that girl really needs to find her voice and stand up for herself.
“Wow!” Principal Pootie says from the podium as we grapevine through the last of the cool choreography and end with our hip-hop poses. “Looks like I have a new dance to learn.”
The HoneyBees skip off the court and take their spots in the bleachers while Principal Pootie gets his notes together. The crowd stomps their feet on the bleachers, and we high-five each other.
“This is a big day for some of our students,” Principal Pootie says. “It’s the end of a very exciting cookie season and an even bigger day for Valentine Middle. It looks like the Santa Monica District will be crowning one of our very own as the cookie queen this year.”
The crowd cheers, and several of the kids sitting around me muss my hair and shake my shoulders. I glance down the court on the other side of the gymnasium and see the kids around Piper Parker doing the exact same thing. Ugh! It looks like it’s down to her or me, and although I made peace with not being the winner yesterday and then again this morning, right now I’m feeling alllll the feels.
“Before we announce our big winner, I want to acknowledge the Valentine Middle varsity basketball team. They brought us a big W this week against Lincoln, and now we’re on our way to securing that title against Roosevelt. As for our other title today…”
I check my phone to see the latest Virtual Cookie report:
BROOKLYN ACE: 4,835 boxes
“I’m almost at my goal of five thousand.”
Stella Rose pans the camera around to me and mouths, I told you.
“Honestly, I think you have this in the bag, B,” Lyric says. “Your numbers are rising by the hundreds! Whoa!”
“Yeah,” Lucy cosigns, snapping a pic with her phone. “I’ve checked and rechecked these numbers, and the crown should be yours, girlfriend.”
Principal Pootie shifts in his loafers. “We are proud of all our scouts who participated in the cookie challenge. All of you are winners,” he says, reaching for his kerchief. “This year our top five sold more cookies than any season at Valentine Middle. Rounding out the top five, selling seven hundred four boxes of cookies, is Margaret Miller. Let’s give her a round of applause.” The crowd claps for her as Pootie loosens his tie. “Fourth place goes to… Rita Argyle,” Pootie says, waving his arms in the air when the energy starts to die. “Let’s give her a few big congratulatory claps as well. She sold seven hundred thirty-two boxes of cookies this season.”
I check the app again.
BROOKLYN ACE: 4,938 boxes
Even though I’m almost at my personal goal, I still have no idea how many boxes of cookies Piper sold.
Pootie waves for Ivory Sandberg to approach the podium with the other two girls. “And our third-place winner, selling almost two thousand boxes of cookies, is Ivory Sandberg.”
Ivory stands beside Margaret and Rita, and takes an awkward bow. The kids stop clapping before Pootie says, “I’m sure you all have figured out our top two cookie girls: Piper Parker and Brooklyn Ace.”
Piper Parker is already on her feet, waving to her fans, approaching the podium. It’s like she thinks she already owns the crown. I sigh, shoving my entire nail bed into my mouth.
“This is it,” I say through cuticle nibbles as I stand up. “This is the moment of truth.” Slowly, I trudge to the podium and take my spot next to my biggest competitor.
Principal Pootie leans down and says to us. “You girls should be very happy with what you’ve accomplished. But there can only be one winner.”
I shove my shoulders back, my heart skipping a few beats.
The whole school waits while Principal Pootie swipes at the beads of sweat that have formed on his head. Then he finally rattles the paper in his hand. “It is with great excitement that I declare Piper Parker the Valentine Middle cookie queen and the Santa Monica District queen this year, too. Congratulations, Piper. You’ve certainly made us all proud.”
And that’s how it ends.
Well… almost.
When Piper slinks up to the podium, I slide in between her and the microphone before she can.
“Can I just say one quick thing first, Principal Pootie?”
He looks back and forth between me and Piper, and then shrugs. “Go ahead, Ms. Ace.”
“Thanks,” I say, and tug on the mic until it’s in front of my face. “I just need a minute.”
The crowd watches me, waiting for me to say something. But then I don’t.
I realize that I’ve just lost, and yet, I’m standing in front of the whole school.
What was I thinking?
The crowd fidgets, squirming in their seats. Waiting. Exactly like four weeks ago.
Okay, so now we’re probably way past awkward.
Some of those same irritating, public-speaking butterflies flit around the pit of my stomach again. Ugh.
Principal Pootie makes that gross hacking sound with his throat. Double ugh.
The image of the student body in their Fruit of the Looms makes me smile, and I can’t help but think of Mom. And then I clasp my hands together and count from five… four… three… two…
“Hi, uh, everyone,” I start, flitting my tongue around my mouth. Yep, teeth are still all there. “I just want to say thank you for making this such an exciting cookie season. And although I didn’t win, I know that I couldn’t have sold almost five thousand boxes of World Scouts cookies if it weren’t for the encouragement I’ve gotten from each of you—even you,” I say, turning to Piper Parker. “Most of you don’t know this, but I lost my mom to cancer a year ago. And this season has been really hard without her. I’ve learned a few things going through this race without her by my side. And I thought maybe some of that stuff could help you, too.”
I press my hands together tightly—silently counting again.
And I don’t forget to breathe.
“I’ve learned that stuff can get tough, and, well, that’s okay. We all have our challenges in this whole life thing. And that’s okay, too. I’ve been fighting with the stupid walls trying to swallow me up lately, but that’s a whole different story for another day.”
I wipe my forehead and see Stella Rose pan her camera around to capture the attentive crowd. Then she turns the focus back to me.
“But no matter what we’re going through, I just want to say that we’re enough… just the way we are. We’re good enough, smart enough, talented enough, strong enough.”
I watch Stella Rose look from behind the lens, and then I wink at her.
“We’re brave enough.”
She grins, taking it all in.
“I miss my mom. And I still hate cancer. But I know that my friends and family have my back, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything—not even the grand prize.”
My scout squad yells out, “Gooo, Brooklyn!”
Magic, Winnie, and LuLu pip and squeak, too.
Piper tries again, this time with more force, to scoot the mic from my lips.
“And if I can say one more thing.” I grab it back from her and rush to get my words out, but then I slow down when I hear the “Cookie Monster” music start to play in the background.
I turn to Piper and say, “Thank you for pushing me to find my voice. Now I know for sure that I’m strong enough to do it—all of it—on my own, even with that mean grandma lady snarling at me in lane two at Big Bob’s.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she says, shifting in her heels. “But… cool.”
I extend my hand to her, and she just looks at it for a few seconds. I’m not sure if she thought it was going to bite her or burn her, but she takes her sweet time before reaching out to shake it.
Then the unexpected happens.
“You ran a really good race,” she says. “And you actually helped me set higher goals than I would’ve if you hadn’t been challenging me.” Even Principal Pootie looks shocked. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you for helping me be my best.”
“You know, you did that same for me,” I admit. “And, Piper…” I decide to move the microphone away from my mouth when I say, “I’m sure your dad will be proud.”
“You didn’t have to say that, but thank you… and yeah, I hope so.” Then she just stands there, staring at me for a few uncomfortable seconds, before she spins around to whisper something to Pootie.
He crinkles his brows and checks with her. “Are you sure?” He looks back at the prizes before nodding. “Okay.”
I can’t take the weird tension any longer so I step back and say, “Welp, that’s it for me.” I turn to step down from the podium when he stops me.
“Brooklyn, it appears that Piper isn’t too keen on going to London after all.”
“I’ve been, like, a thousand times, soooo…” She looks at me and then another weird thing happens—she smiles.
“Now,” Principal Pootie says into the microphone for everyone to hear. “According to the rules, if a winner forfeits the prize, it automatically goes to the next in line, and that, my dear, is you.”
“Are you kidding me?” I shriek. “Seriously?!”
“I’m keeping the tix to Disney, but yeah, you can have the whole London experience. I’m not really a building-schools, manual-labor kind of girl. You’ll rock that challenge and make us all… proud.”
And then she just steps off the podium and walks away.
“Can you believe that?” I say to Lucy, Lyric, and Stella Rose when I rush over to them.
“I guess we’re all having moments of growth up in here today,” Lyric says.
“You’ll always be our queen,” Stella Rose says, shutting off her camera. “What you just did up there was amazy. You showed us all that there are many different ways to win.”
“Yeah,” Lucy says. “A month ago you could barely get through your speech. That was a win right there.”
I hold my finger in the air to clarify. “You mean I couldn’t get through it at all.”
“Who remembers a month ago anyway?” she jokes, chuckling with the rest of us. She’s right, though. There’s no need to look back unless you’re checking to see how far you’ve come.
Lyric adds, “Our girl is going to London, all new and improved.”
That’s when I hear a voice behind me say, “You’ve always been a star. Your mom would be crying tears of joy today.”
When I hear Lyric gasp, covering her mouth in shock, I whip around to see Jade Darby—right here at Valentine Middle, in our very own gymnasium.
“Ms. Darby!” I squeak as Lyric throws her arms around her mom.
“Mom.” Lyric can barely get the words out of her mouth. “What… what’re you doing here?”
“You know, Boogie,” she says, pushing a curly tendril from her daughter’s face, “I reread your email and decided that this is the only place I need to be right now.”
“But don’t you have shows? You’re in the middle of your big tour.”
“That can wait.” She kisses Lyric’s forehead, pulling her close, into her sequin-and-mesh top. “It can all wait.”
“Thank you so much, Ms. Darby, for the post you made about Brookie’s Cookies,” I say to her, still completely stunned that I’m looking at her with my very own eyeballs.
“Something you said up there,” she starts, nodding at the podium. “It really hit home for me.”
“Something I said?”
“You’re right. You are lucky to have each other, and I promise, Boogie, I’m going to do my best to be here for you, for all the big stuff, but for all the little stuff, too.”
Lyric looks up to her mom with adoration.
“And yes, Brooklyn, you are already enough.” She turns to Lyric and touches the tip of her nose. “And so are you, which means that no matter what song you pick—”
“You mean we pick, because now that you’re here we’re totally going to rock this audition selection,” Lyric says, pulling her mom in one direction while Stella Rose pads off in the other.
Lucy and I watch Stella Rose ease into the bleachers and position the camera in front of her. She fidgets with her eyeglasses before unraveling her scarf. Then she smooths down its edges, sits up straight, and finally introduces herself to the documentary competition judges.
“Hi.” She takes a deep breath and glances at me. I clasp my hands together and squeeze, nodding at her to do the same. I can’t help but swell with hope when she imitates me right back. You can do it, I mouth at her.
She takes one long breath and goes for it. “My name is Stella Rose Sampson, and I’m submitting my documentary today in honor of one of my best friends, Brooklyn Ace. This is her story of redemption, of inspiration, of hope.”
“Check out our girl,” Lucy says, filming Stella Rose with her new camera phone.
I marvel at the way things are turning out. And Ms. Darby is right; Mom would be proud—of all of us.
“Brooklyn! Brooklyn!” the school reporter calls out to me. “Can I get a quote for my article?”
“Why would you want a quote from her?” Lucy snarks, shoving her hands into her hips. “You’ve been chasing a story about the cookie queen.” Lucy nods at Piper Parker, who is soaking in her big win with her girls. “B’s not the big winner after all.”
“Oh, but she is,” he says, looking around the gym at all the kids dancing to our hit song, which is playing on a loop.
“Sure, I’ll give you a quote,” I say, rocking back and forth on my feet. “I might not have won the big crown today, but for the record…” I hold my head high and watch Lyric and her mom checking out songs for her audition. Then I glance at Stella Rose, working through her video submission. Lucy snaps a pic of me with her phone, and I close my eyes and feel my mom right beside me before turning to the reporter to begin.
“I’m Brooklyn Ace, and it’s my honor to be your Valentine Middle School cookie monster.”