Alexis Gets Frosted Read Online Free

think you were into dollhouses, though.”
    â€œI’m not.” The one she had bought me when I was eight had sat in a corner of my room untouched for two years before we donated it to the pediatrician’s waiting room. “But I’m into knowing more about you when you were a kid!”
    With a smile, my mom brushed my hair off my forehead. “I can call Granny and see what her schedule is. I’ll find a time to take you over there. Maybe this weekend.”
    â€œThanks,” I said, snuggling down into my covers. “Also I want to see pictures of how you dressed in the eighties.”
    â€œOh no! You definitely don’t want to see those!” My mom laughed.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThey’re awful! Clothes were hideous back then. Except for one little yellow gingham dress I had, with a green pear-shaped patch pocket.” She looked all dreamy. “I loved that dress!”
    â€œHmm. Sounds great.” I yawned. “Tell Granny I’d like to see those photos too.”
    â€œWhy this sudden interest in my past?” asked my mother, turning out the light. She stood in my doorway, just a tall, slender figure backlit by the light from the hall.
    â€œJust interested . . .,” I fibbed. Obviously, I couldn’t tell her about the cupcakes, but it was more than that, anyway. It was about my friends knowing way more than I do about their moms and also about wondering how she handled things when she was my age. Like, I wondered if anyone was ever mean to her, like Olivia Allen was to me today. But it was too late to get into that tonight. My mother is all about fixing problems right away, and she’d have the light back on and my dad in here and we’d all be chatting it through, using strategies she learned in her parenting class. It would be misery. I kept my mouth shut. But I made a mental note to find out a little more about what my friends knew about their moms, so I could make sure I was up to speed.

    In English the next day, Mrs. Carr went around the room and asked each person to say what they’re doing for their project. Lots of kids are doing costumes because, let’s face it, it’s the easiest. The best student in our class, Donovan Shin, is making adiorama of a Victorian slum. That should be amazing. Olivia is doing a costume of a rich lady of the time, of course. When it got to me, I kind of mumbled; I knew my plan was going to be hard to do, and I almost hated committing to it by saying it out loud.
    â€œA diorama,” I said quietly.
    â€œA diorama?” asked Mrs. Carr, confirming she’d heard me right.
    I nodded. “Of a house,” I added miserably.
    â€œI’m sure it will be lovely,” said Mrs. Carr with a smile. “Next?”
    I spaced out, hoping Mia had come up with some kind of blueprint last night. I hadn’t seen her yet today to ask.
    Suddenly, Olivia leaned forward from where she was sitting diagonally behind me and said, “I’m surprised you didn’t figure out a way to bake something fattening and call it a project.”
    I turned around in shock, feeling like I’d been slapped and also mortified because, of course, I am baking something for the project.
    â€œWhat?” was all I could think to say. Brilliant, as usual.
    â€œOlivia, do you have a comment you’d like to share with the class?” asked Mrs. Carr loudly.
    She became my favorite teacher right then, even though I still hate English.
    Olivia blushed a little at being called out, which was awesome!
    â€œN-no,” she stammered. “I was just saying I’d hoped Alexis would be baking a treat for us since she’s such a good baker and all.” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, and I turned around to look at Mrs. Carr and shake my head a little, like, No, that is not what she said . Mrs. Carr caught my gist.
    â€œLet’s keep our comments about other people’s plans to a