Chapter one (2)

I want to be a designer when i grow up - maybe fashion,or interiors,or both.

After showering,I put on one of my favorite outfits: a black sweater dress,dark purple tights,and knee-high black boots. Then I joined my parents in our too-bright kitchen. Mom was brewing coffee,and Dad was eating cereal while he watched New York 1, the local news channel.Outside, eight stories down, Manhattan bustled to life with the blare of taxicab and bus horns.

"Oh, honey," Mom sighed, eyeing my dress as she handed me a plate of sausage, scrambled eggs, and toadt. "Won't you at least try wearing pastels one day?"

My parents love pastel. That morning, Mom had on a light blue pantsuit, and Dad wore a white T- shirt and khakis. But the differences between me and my parents go beyong our taste in clothes. I don't resemble either of them

At all . Mom is blond with gray eye, Dad has auburn hair and brown eyes, and they both tan easily. I have long, straight jet-black hair,navy blue eyes, and milk-pale skin that turns a lovely shade of flaming lobster after two minutes in the sun. Gubby likes joke that I was adopted, and I've wondered about that myself.

"Hmm," I replied, plopping down next to Dad at the small table. "Pastel.Let me see.Maybe... when pigs fly?"

" Good morning to you, too, Ms. Sharky " Dad flicked of the news and smiled at me . Wiggling his reddish eyebrow. "Don't give your mother a hard time," he chided me gently . " She's got a busy Monda a head of her." Dad is a cartoonist, and he works from home,so he's usually the more laid-back parent.

Mom nodded, pouring coffee into her silver thermos. "We're putting the final touches on the Creatures of the Night exhbit . The opening's only two week away."

I felt a beat of excitement as I dug into my breakfast . Mom work at the American Museum of Natural History, which is a few blocks from our apartment building. The museum is most famous for it's dinosour bones,but it also hosts cool exhibit on things like butterflies and sea monster. Mom is in charge of this exhibits, and every tme one opens, she and Dad go to a big party at the museum. This year, for the first time, Mom was allowing me to attend the opening gala, too. I couldn't wait.

"And. of course, our special guest is arriving this afternoon," Dad said,standing up and putting his bowl in the sink .

"Guest? I repeated, glancing from Dad to Mom in confusion. Just then, our shaggy sheepdog, Bram, came bounding into the kitchen with a series of barks. When I reached down to pet him, he veered away from me . Sigh

" Your great-aunt Margo is coming to stay with us, all the way from Remania. She's Been a long distance consultant on the exhibit, and now she's going to help out with the opening.

Right. I did recall hearing about Great-aunt Margo, my Mom's aunt who still live in the small European town that Mom is originally from. My Dad was born in New York City, like me, but Mom came over to America with her parents when she was a baby. I was really little When my grandparents died, so I knew basically nothing about my European heritage.

I was about to ask how, exactly, Great-aunt Margo would be helping, when the doorbell rang. Bram starting barking like crazy, and my parents and I looked at one another. "Gabby," we said at the same time.

Every morning, Gabby comes to pick me up so we can walk to school together. Unfortunately punctual..