Seeing Cinderella by Jenny Lundquist Page A

me, I wondered if she would think the skirt was too short also.
    I shouldn’t have worried.
    “Happy Hallowee—” I broke off as I opened the front door and saw Ellen and Stacy—dressed identically as a trendy Little Red Riding Hood, complete with swishy red-and-white skirts, clunky red shoes, and red choker necklaces.
    “That’s a way cute costume,” Stacy said, stepping inside and brushing past me. “I had one just like it when I was in third grade.”
    “Thanks,” I said, staring hard at Ellen. “Ellen and I bought it last year.”
    Ellen wore an apologetic expression on her face as she stepped inside. She should be sorry. True, we never actually said we were wearing our rag-doll costumes tonight—but that had been the whole point when we bought them last year.
    So while I looked six years old, Ellen and Stacy looked like middle-school models. Maybe I stunk at algebra, but I could still do the math: If Ellen and Stacy wore identical costumes, then they planned it—without including me. I probably wouldn’t have dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood (my hair and freckles were red enough), but it would’ve been nice if they’d asked.
    I moved to shut the door when a rough voice said, “Wait.”
    I looked in disbelief at Raven, who skulked in wearing her usual black shirt, black jeans, and dog collar.
    “Dig your costume,” Raven said, smirking.
    “Hello, girls,” Mom said, walking into the hallway. “Oh you both look so lovely,” she said to Ellen and Stacy. “And what are you supposed to be?” she turned to Raven.
    Raven looked confused. “What do you mean?”
    “Your costume. Are you a witch?”
    “I’m not wearing a costume. These are my normal clothes,” Raven said.
    “Oh, of course. My mistake,” Mom said, and scurried away.
    “Where’s your room?” Stacy asked. “I need to fix my makeup.”
    “Upstairs, second one on the right.”
    Stacy and Raven filed up the stairs. Ellen started to follow until I grabbed her arm.
    “What is Raven doing here?” I whispered.
    Ellen shrugged. “Raven heard Stacy and me talking in science class, and Stacy invited her. She’s really not that bad. She’s a good lab partner, actually.”
    “Yeah, and I’ll bet Raven lets you do most of the work.”
    “So what?” Ellen said. “It wouldn’t be any different if you were my lab partner.”
    I closed my mouth. She had me there.
    “And anyway,” Ellen continued, “you’re the one who said we should get a group of people together. I didn’t think you’d mind—I don’t think Raven has very many friends.” Ellen started walking upstairs. “Where’s Ana?”
    “She’s not here yet,” I said, following behind Ellen.
    Inside my room Stacy lounged on a throw pillow. “Cool wall,” she said, leaning her head against my daisy mural.
    “Yeah,” Raven said, slumping at my desk chair. “It’s really shiny and happy.”
    I ignored Raven. “Thanks, my dad and I painted it.”
    “You painted it yourself ?” Stacy said, sounding awed. “Hey—you know what would be cool? Painting murals on all the other walls. That way, no matter where you sat it would feel like you were outside.” Stacy looked at me. “I could help you paint, if you wanted.”
    “Um, I’ll think about it,” I said.
    With one last look at the mural, Stacy popped up, opened her ginormous purse, and tipped it over, unleashing an ocean of makeup on my dresser.
    Stacy and Ellen started primping in front ofmy dresser mirror like it was the prom, instead of just Pacific view’s Halloween carnival. Stacy picked through the pile of makeup and pulled out a brown tube she offered my way. “I’ve got a concealer stick,” she said. “You know, in case you want to cover up your freckles.”
    “Not enough makeup in the world for that,” I heard Raven mutter under her breath.
    “No thanks,” I said to Stacy. My mom didn’t allow me to wear makeup yet. And even if she did, my skin was so oily the concealer would end up, well,