Free Zoe in Wonderland by Brenda Woods

always know when I’m up to something? How? I wondered.
    Harper glanced at the flat iron and smirked. “What’d you do to your hair, Zoe?” he asked. “It looks way different.” Then he stared at my shiny lips. “Are you wearing makeup?”
    â€œBQ, Harper. Just BQ.”

21
    Nana’s Cure
    B ecause I’d run away from school and because I’d been what everyone was calling
blue
—which means “mostly not happy”—since my best friend had gone, I’d been summoned to Nana and Grandpa Reindeer’s apartment for the weekend.
    â€œI want you to stop this moping around, Zoe,” Nana told me. “It does not become you. It’s not like you’ve had your heart broken . . . yet. Just like those tears we talked about that Jade used to make you spill, better to save that moping for later, when you’ll need it.” Nana got in my face and grinned. “Now give me a smile.”
    I almost smiled.
    â€œI’d tell you a good joke if I knew one, but I was never good in the joke department. Don’t suppose you know one?”
    I shook my head and kept peeling potatoes.
    Nana inched closer to me until we were standing side by side. “Seems to me you’ve grown a little,
my
Zoe.”
    Why were people suddenly calling me
my
Zoe like they owned me?
    The store was called Zoe’s. Inside, there were rows and rows of life-size dolls for sale and all of them looked just alike, just like Zoe G. Reindeer—except they each had on a different extremely cute outfit. They were selling for $199.99.
    â€œZoe?” Nana said.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI said, seems to me you’ve grown a little.”
    â€œA little,” I replied.
    I watched my nana as she washed the celery and onions for the potato salad we were making. Her silver hair was pulled back into a bun and red earrings dangled from her ears.
    â€œYou like eggs in your potato salad, don’t you?” she asked as she opened a carton of eggs.
    â€œYes.”
    Earlier, we’d gone shopping and Nana had bought me two new dresses and a pair of sparkly lavender sneakers. Even though she always treats me nice, today felt special because I barely ever have her all to myself. Nana had held my hand now and then as we shopped, and I almost told her I’m too old for hand-holding, but I didn’t. I really liked not sharing her.
    â€œEvery so often, a young lady needs to be doted on,” she’d told me later as we sat side by side, eating burgers and fries at a fifties diner.
    â€œWhat’s
doted on
?” I’d asked.
    â€œSpoiled rotten.”
    I’d finally smiled.
    â€œNow, that’s
my
Zoe.” I’d leaned my head into her shoulder, soaking up her flowery smell. “No more running off from school, promise me? We were worried sick,” she’d whispered.
    For the zillionth time, I swore I would never do it again.
    â€œCan I use your computer to check my e-mail?” I asked after I’d peeled the last potato.
    â€œOf course,” Nana replied. “Expecting a note from Quincy, I suppose?”
    â€œHope so.”
    â€œMust be really hard on Quincy with his mom being sick and having to move and go to a new school,” Nana commented.
    I nodded in agreement and thought about what she’d said for a little while. Nana’s right. It must be really hard for him.
    When I turned on the computer and entered my e-mail address and password and saw that there was a new message from Quincy—that made me grin. But when I read it, the inside part of me finally started dancing again. I leaped up and ran into the kitchen.
    â€œHe’s coming back . . . next week!” I shouted.
    Nana patted the top of my head.
    â€œAnd his mom is almost done with her treatments,” I told her. “I know he’ll be happy to see her.”
    Nana winked. “And you.”
    For some reason, her saying that