Fashion Disaster

by Jill Santopolo

  “And I love those barrettes,” Mrs. Bass said.

  Mom looked up from manicure station number one when Mrs. Bass said that. “I made those barrettes such a long time ago,” she said. “I thought I might want to start a side business, but making them took too much time away from True Colors.”

  Aly paused. She’d been straightening up the piles of magazines and collecting polish bottles to return to the polish wall. “Any chance you have leftover supplies?” she asked her mom. “Because a few girls at school asked me about Brooke’s barrettes.” After recess Annie Wu and Uma had both wanted to know where Brooke had gotten them.

  “You know,” Mom said, “I think I may have jammed the supplies in the bottom desk drawer in the back room. They’d be in a zipped pouch. Plain barrettes, ribbons, glue—everything I used. You might have to go digging under a lot of paper, though.”

  Brooke looked over from where she was refilling Carla’s little box of nail rhinestones. Carla loved doing manicures with rhinestones for her customers. “Even if there aren’t enough supplies to make them for kids at school,” Brooke said, “we should make more for me!”

  The salon customers laughed, and then Brooke and Aly raced back into the Sparkle Spa to go hunting in the desk. Sparkly was sitting quietly in his doggie bed.

  “Where are they?” Brooke said, opening a desk drawer. Then she stopped. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

  Aly walked over. “Your braid,” she said. “I’m sorry you saw it. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.”

  Brooke sat down on the floor. “My new haircut turned out okay, but I’d be sad throwing out my braid too. Maybe there’s something else we could do with it.”

  “Let’s make a list of ideas,” Aly offered. She pulled out a piece of paper:

  Things to Do with Brooke's Braid

  • Hang it on the bedroom wall

  • Wrap it in tissue paper and put it in the closet

  • Make it into a doll

  • Stuff it in a pillow

  • Throw it away

  “I don’t know about any of these,” Aly said, looking back over the list.

  “How about . . . make it into a wig?” Brooke said.

  Aly looked at her sister. “Wait!” she said. “Remember when Mrs. Rosenberg, the secretary at school, was sick last year and she wore that wig that was practically the color of Back to the Fuchsia?”

  Brooke nodded.

  “Well,” Aly said, “I wonder if there are people who are sick who might want to use your hair to make a wig.”

  Brooke was nodding so hard now that her short hair was flopping all over the place. It made Aly smile.

  “Yes!” Brooke agreed. “That’s exactly what we should do with my hair. But . . . how do we find people who might need it?”

  “I’ll look it up online. And we can ask Mom or Joan,” Aly said. “In the meantime, let’s put your braid back in the drawer and see about this barrette business.”

  After a bit of rummaging around in the desk, Aly and Brooke found the zippered pouch with all the barrette materials in it. There were thirty barrettes, so knowing Mom, Aly figured that meant there would be enough ribbon to make all thirty of them. Brooke took one out of her hair so the girls could see exactly what their mom had done.

  “Look,” Brooke said. “She braided four pieces of ribbon together, tied a knot, then left a few inches for the streamers. Then she tied a tiny knot at the end of each streamer.”

  Aly took the barrette from her sister. “And it seems like she glued the braided part to the barrette, then tucked the top of the braid under so you can’t see the fraying ribbon at the top edge. We can make these no problem.”

  In fact, with Aly braiding and Brooke gluing and knotting, they made twelve barrettes in an hour.

  When it was time to clean up, Brooke asked, “Should we set these up near the donation jar so our customers can buy them?”

  But Aly was only half listening. She was still thinking about Mrs. Rosenberg.

  Brooke repeated the question.

  “I’m not sure, Brooke,” she finally answered. “I might have another plan.”

  Brooke zipped up the remaining ribbons in the pouch. “Okay. Tell me when you’re ready.”

  But somehow, thinking about Mrs. Rosenberg also made Aly think about Sparkly. Could he be sick? Is that why he seemed so quiet and tired and heavier than usual? Aly swallowed that thought down.

  Before bed that night, Aly found just what she was looking for: a charity called Loving Locks, which donated wigs to people who had lost their hair because they were sick. The charity needed hair that was at least ten inches long, and Aly knew Brooke’s hair was much longer than that. Plus, they took donations in money as well as in hair.

  Aly was ready to share her idea with her sister, but Brooke had already fallen asleep. She was tempted to wake her up to tell her about her plan, but she didn’t want to jinx it. Tomorrow, then, she decided—first thing.

  seven

  Red Rover

  The next morning, over cereal and bananas, Aly presented her plan to Brooke. She even cleared her throat first, to make her announcement more official.

  “I think,” Aly began, “we should donate your hair to Loving Locks. It’s a charity I found online that can turn it into a wig for someone who’s sick. And we should donate the money from all the barrettes we sell to that charity too.” She slid the piece of paper she’d printed out last night across the table to Brooke.

  Brooke read the rules. “My hair is longer than ten inches, right?” she asked.

  Aly nodded.

  “And I never dyed it any colors, and it’s stored in a braid, and it’s not in dreadlocks.”

  Aly nodded again.

  “And if we make enough money from the barrettes, then maybe we’ll be able to pay for the cost of turning my hair into a wig!”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Aly told her sister.

  “Wait!” Brooke said, stabbing the air with her spoon. “Let’s include the money from our donation jar too.”

  Aly smiled. “Perfect idea, Brookester,” she said.

  As Aly took another spoonful of cereal, she heard Sparkly whine. She looked over at him and saw that he hadn’t eaten much of his breakfast. Now she was really starting to get worried. She had no choice—she’d have to tell Mom.

  That day, Brooke wore two of the barrettes she and Aly had made the day before. At least fifteen girls at school asked where they could get them. Even better, the same fifteen girls said they never knew short hair could be so cool until they saw Brooke with her barrettes. Even Caleb complimented Brooke’s haircut—and her barrettes.

  Whenever people asked, the Tanner girls said that starting this weekend, the barrettes would be available at the Sparkle Spa for $2.00 each and that the money would go to a good cause.

  But even more surprising was what happened at the end of the day. While Aly was waiting for Brooke on the steps of the school, Violet Quinn, a second grader, ran up to her, and she had a haircut just like Brooke’s.

  “What do you think of my new hair, Aly?” Violet asked, spinning around so Aly could check her out from all sides.

  “It looks awesome,” Aly said. Violet and her sister, Daisy, were both Sparkle Spa customers.

  “Yesterday I was getting my hair trimmed. Lou was talking about the cute cut she had just given another customer. She thought it would look good on me, and it turned out that the customer was Brooke Tanner. I said I wanted her haircut too!”

  Violet turned around again, to show off her hair. “Brooke’s haircut is so, so cool. When I got home, Daisy was jealous. I think she’s going to get her hair cut the same way today.”

  “Really?” Aly asked, tugging her backpack straps.

  Violet nodded. Daisy had pretty long hair. Come to think of it, Violet had too.

  All of a sudden, Aly had a terrific idea. One that would mean a side trip on the way to the salon after school.

  “I’m going to co
me to the Sparkle Spa this weekend for those cool barrettes Brooke has,” Violet told her. “If Daisy winds up with a new style, I’ll buy some for her too.”

  Aly smiled at Violet. “Well, we’ll be there,” she said. “Don’t forget to let me or Charlotte know if you want a manicure or pedicure appointment this weekend.”

  “I’ll ask my mom,” Violet said. “I’ve been thinking nail polish would go really well with my new haircut.”

  Aly laughed. “I think nail polish goes really well with all haircuts.”

  Violet laughed too and skipped over to her mom’s car in the pickup circle in front of school.

  When Brooke came out of the building with Sophie following her, Aly told them, “We have to make a detour today on the way to the Sparkle Spa. Did you see Violet’s new haircut?”

  Brooke grinned from ear to ear. “Just like mine.”

  “Exactly,” Aly answered as the girls started walking. “And Daisy might be getting one today. Her hair’s almost as long as yours used to be. We absolutely have to tell Lou about Loving Locks.”

  “Maybe I should get my hair cut,” Sophie said as the group walked into Skip to My Lou. Her dark, straight hair came to about the bottom of her shoulder blades. “How many inches do you think it is?”

  “We need something to measure it with,” Brooke said. She asked Mallory, the salon receptionist, if she had a ruler. Fortunately, Mallory found a plastic one that looked like it had at one point lived in someone’s school desk.

  “Measure it from the tip-top of my head,” Sophie requested.

  Brooke started at Sophie’s part, gently pulling a strand away from her head to check its length. “There’s the first twelve inches,” she said, marking the spot on Sophie’s hair with her finger where the ruler ended, then moving the ruler down. “And another six inches. So you measure eighteen inches,” she reported.

  “How many inches do I need in order to donate?” she asked.

  “Ten,” Aly and Brooke answered together.

  “Can you measure eight inches of my hair?” Sophie asked. “From the top again.”

  Eight inches got Sophie’s hair to her chin. If she did cut it, it would wind up quite a bit longer than Brooke’s hair.

  Aly spied a hair magazine nearby and skimmed through it until she found a model with a chin-length bob. “Look!” she said, showing the magazine to Sophie. “If you cut ten inches, you hair could look like this girl’s. That is, if you have the same type of hair as hers.”

  Brooke sighed. “That, apparently, is a very important part of haircuts. A part Suzy Davis was clueless about.”

  Sophie and Aly giggled. Sophie carefully studied the magazine. “I’ll do it,” she said. “And I want to donate my hair like Brooke is.”

  Just as she said that, Lou walked over. “What can I do to help you girls?” she asked. “Mallory said you needed to see me.”

  Aly started, “We want to—” But Brooke cut her off.

  “Remember a few days ago when you gave me a haircut?” she asked.

  Lou nodded. “Of course I do.”

  “Well, Aly saved my braid. And we’re going to donate it to a charity called Loving Locks, which makes wigs for sick people who need them. We were thinking that maybe whenever anyone with long hair gets their hair cut here, they might like to donate their hair too. And since this is your salon, maybe you could be the one to ask them?”

  Brooke stopped for air and then continued. “Because Aly knows that Daisy Quinn has an appointment to get her hair cut to match Violet’s. So if you could tell your customers about Loving Locks and the wigs and the donations, that would be really nice.”

  Aly smiled. She couldn’t have said it better herself. But she did hand the information sheet on Loving Locks to Lou. “This is what it says on their website,” she said.

  “You know,” Lou said, “this is wonderful idea. I can’t believe I never thought of it myself before. Why waste all that hair when it could help someone in need? I’ll make copies of this and make sure Mallory distributes it around the salon, particularly to anyone with long hair who comes in for a haircut.”

  “And, Lou,” Sophie piped up, “will you cut my hair to my chin, so I can donate my hair too?”

  “Of course I can, Sophie,” Lou answered. “But not today. You need a parent to call for an appointment.”

  The girls said their good-byes and headed to the Sparkle Spa. The spa wasn’t going to be open that day—they’d pushed their work day to Wednesday this week at the request of the Auden Angels soccer team—but the girls wanted to finish making the barrettes.

  “You know,” Sophie said as she braided some of the sparkly ribbons, “if we’re starting to sell these on Saturday, maybe we could offer a special manicure to go along with it. We could charge a certain amount and donate that money to Loving Locks too.”

  “Well, we’d already planned to give the donation jar money to Loving Locks,” Brooke said, blowing on the barrette she was making to help dry the glue.

  “Yeah, but I know what Sophie means,” Aly said. “For regular Sparkle Spa services, people donate any amount they want. But if we created one of our special occasion manicures in honor of Loving Locks, we could set a five-dollar contribution. Then we’d have even more money to donate.”

  Brooke nodded. “Got it,” she said. “And I know the perfect manicure.” She chose two polish colors—Red Rover and Yellow Submarine—and took Aly’s hand in hers. She painted Aly’s thumb bright red, and when it dried, she painted a neat yellow stripe right across the top. “It’s like a colorful French manicure,” she said, “so it’ll be easy for us to do. But at the same time it looks special.”

  Aly inspected her thumb. It looked pretty cool.

  “And we can do whatever colors anyone wants,” Brooke added. “Not just these.”

  Aly knew that Charlotte and Lily would love the idea too. Charlotte loved all special events at the Sparkle Spa, and Lily loved all chances to make—and donate—more money.

  “Isn’t it amazing how my haircut is turning into a way to help so many other people?” Brooke said.

  Aly realized she was right. Only Brooke could turn a Suzy Davis disaster into something wonderful.

  eight

  Right as Rain

  That night, once again, Sparkly didn’t eat much of his dinner. Aly couldn’t wait another second. She had to tell Brooke and her mom.

  Brooke looked like she might cry. “I don’t want Sparkly to be sick!” she said.

  Mom hugged her. “Me neither, Brookie,” she said. “And chances are he’s not. But let’s take him to the vet to get checked out.”

  It made Aly feel so much better that Mom was in charge now. But she wouldn’t feel completely better until she knew what was wrong with Sparkly.

  Because the entire Auden Elementary girls’ soccer team was booked for rainbow sparkle pedicures on Wednesday, Aly knew there wasn’t going to be an inch to move or a moment to spare at the Sparkle Spa that afternoon. A few of the players had asked for manicures too, not just Anjuli, the goalie who always got a manicure.

  As the Tanner girls racewalked to True Colors after school with Sophie, Charlotte, and Lily, Brooke asked Aly, “Do you think Mom made a doctor’s appointment for Sparkly yet? I’ve been thinking about him all day.”

  “Me too,” Aly said. “But I’m not sure. Sometimes animal doctors are like people doctors. Unless it’s an emergency, it can be hard to get a last-minute appointment.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Sparkly too,” said Lily. “Maybe he just has a cold.”

  Aly had filled her friends in on the Sparkly situation at lunch. Aly hoped that’s all it was.

  When they reached the salon, Brooke and Aly hurried over to their mom, who was sitting at the reception desk. “How’s Sparkly?” they both asked at the same time.

  Mom smiled. “Well,” she said, “we didn’t need to go to the vet. Sparkly’s fine.”

  “But—” Aly started to say.

  “Carla,
would you like to explain it to the girls, or should I?” Mom asked. Carla had just finished up a manicure for Mr. Andrews at manicure station three. He always like to have his nails polished with Right as Rain, which was clear with extra shine. Carla walked over to the reception desk.

  “I’m so sorry, girls,” she said. “I was trying to be nice to Sparkly, but apparently, two dog cookies a day is too many for a dog that tiny.”

  “You were giving him two dog cookies a day?” Brooke asked. “When? How come? Where did you get them?”

  Carla ran her fingers through her bangs. “Delish Doggie Treats were on sale. I thought he might like to eat them while he waited for you girls in his corner during the school day. And he loved them, so I started giving him a couple every day. When your mom mentioned needing to take time off to bring Sparkly to the vet, I told her about the cookies,” she said, leaning against the counter.

  “We called the vet, and he’s sure that’s why Sparkly’s been acting so strange,” Mom added.

  “So no more cookies,” Carla said. “I promise. And I’m so sorry I made you worry—and made Sparkly feel ill.”

  Aly knew that the manicurists played with Sparkly while she and Brooke were at school, but she had no idea they were feeding him too.

  “It’s okay,” Aly said. “We’re just relieved he’s not really sick.”

  Brooke started to say something, but she instead headed back to the Sparkle Spa. The rest of the girls followed.

  “Well, that turned out well,” Lily said. “No cold or anything.”

  Brooke plopped down on the floor to do her homework. “All I’m going to say,” she said, “is that a person shouldn’t give another person’s dog a cookie without permission.”

  Aly laughed. “I agree,” she said. She pulled Sparkly into her lap, scratched him behind his ears, and worked on her homework as quickly as she could while he licked the crease of her elbow.

  Now that she knew Sparkly was fine, she could focus on getting through the rush today at the Sparkle Spa and then look forward to Saturday’s fund-raiser. Of all the different Sparkle Spa events, Aly felt sure that this one for Loving Locks was just about the most important. It had to be a success.