Free Alexis and the Missing Ingredient by Coco Simon Page B

leader and start asking questions.
    â€œYeah,” I agreed. “It would be different, that’s for sure.”
    We were quiet for a minute, and then Katie said, “What did Madame Khalil tell you about yourself that you didn’t already know?”
    I thought for a minute, then I looked at Katie and giggled. “Not much. What about you?”
    She started laughing really hard. “Nothing! Isn’t that funny?”
    She started copying Madame Khalil, saying, “You have a very strong head line. You are very, very smart lady! I think you are getting the good grades in school, no?” The two of us were gasping from laughing.
    Soon Mia and Ava spied us and came over to see what was so funny. But neither of us wanted to hurt Mia’s feelings by criticizing Madame Khalil, so we said it was a little boy we spotted picking his nose who’d made us laugh.
    Mia kind of laughed a little at that, and I, for one, felt bad about lying, but it had to be done.
    â€œMia, what was it like to grow up here? Compared to Maple Grove, I mean,” I asked.
    I don’t think she was expecting the question, so it took her a little by surprise.
    â€œSeriously? Or are you joking?” she asked.
    â€œNo, seriously.”
    She thought for a minute. “Well, here it’s not as much about fitting in, so that’s easier. You can do your own thing. But it’s more about finding your way, which can be harder, because there are a lot more choices here than there, you know? Sometimes it’s better to have fewer choices.” She shrugged. “Sometimes not.”
    â€œHere is way more fun,” added Ava. “No offense.”
    Katie and I looked at each other, then back at her. “None taken,” I said.
    â€œIt’s sort of like . . . New York has different things for different moods. If you feel one way, you do one thing; if you feel another, you do another,” said Mia.
    â€œKind of like friends?” I asked. Everyone looked at me, so I elaborated. “Like, some friends are fun to do certain kinds of things with, and some friends are fun to do others.”
    â€œYeah,” agreed Mia. “Or maybe some friends get you to do one kind of thing, because you share those interests or maybe they push you to do things you wouldn’t normally do, and other friends have other purposes.”
    We were all quiet, thinking about this. I don’t think anyone wanted this time to ask what their purpose was in Mia’s life. At least I didn’t. What if she said I had no purpose? (Other than always being prepared, obviously.)
    â€œWow, I think this museum’s making us think too much,” said Mia. “Let’s get out of here!” She jumped up and, with a grin, waved us on to find her dad.
    I, for one, was sorry Emma had missed the Wayne Thiebaud show, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

    We walked uptown a little more and cut through Central Park to get to Bloomingdale’s. I’d never been before, but Emma had told me about it, and she was pretty impressed by its size and everything they had for sale. I’d also heard Dylan talk about it extensively, so I decided it would be a good place to buy her a souvenir.
    Mr. Cruz told us he’d go have a coffee in the café and read the paper. He said he needed a break from all the girliness. We just laughed, and Mia told him he was lucky to get such an insider’s view of the world of women. We would meet him in an hour.
    I couldn’t stop marveling at all the inventory they had in the store. I mean, they must have had millions of dollars of stuff just sitting there, waiting to be bought. I suddenly remembered that Ava was into economics, so we struck up a conversation about trade and importing and sweatshops, where they have kids sewing clothes for pennies a day in poor countries.
    â€œHow do you know so much about all this?” asked Ava. I could tell she was