by Luke Sharpe
All right, so maybe those are reasons #990, #991, and #992, but you know what I mean.
I quickly text Jada to let her know that Manny is taking over the marketing side of the Candy Toothbrush, so that there is no need for us to meet up at the dentist’s office.
For the first time since Manny and I switched back to our talents, I feel kinda down. I’m not sure, but I think I’m disappointed that I’m not going to see Jada this afternoon.
Manny and I switch seats. As soon as I sit down and spread a bunch of parts out next to my blueprints, that MAGICAL FEELING I always get when I’m inventing returns!
The best part of the switcheroo—in addition to really understanding how hard Manny’s job is—is that it showed me that I was really meant to be an inventor. I’ve had my moments where I wonder. When my prototype for the BEST TEST told me I should be a spinach farmer instead of an inventor, I wondered if I was making the right choices. And it’s often hard juggling the pressure of being in middle school and being a world-famous inventor and CEO. Sometimes I just want to relax. But even when I’m not trying to think about inventing, I inevitably . . . INVENT!
After an hour of intensive work on the prototype, I feel like it’s in pretty good shape for testing. But before I get the chance, I hear Manny squeal with delight.
“Guess what?” he says, hanging up his phone. “I just got that dentist’s office on board!”
“Without even going there?”
“Yup. Looks like my sleep-marketing plan is ready to roll. Or should I say, unroll!”
Manny unrolls his blueprint paper and turns to his computer.
“Look at this,” he says.
I scoot across the room and lean over to see the screen. Manny has the Right Next Door website open to the article Kathy Jenkins wrote about us a few days ago. I had actually forgotten all about it. I wonder why Manny is bringing it up now that we are both in such a good mood.
“Check out the comments under the article, Billy,” Manny says.
I groan. If I’ve learned anything since becoming a minor celebrity, it’s that you never read online comments. Ever. Never ever.
What does Right Next Door have against Sure Things, Inc.? They make good stuff. My son plays with the All Ball every day.
I happen to know Billy Sure and Manny Reyes, and they are nothing like these articles make them out to be.
Comment after comment reads like these.
“I’m guessing we won’t be having any more trouble from Kathy Jenkins, huh?” I say, realizing just what this might mean. NO MORE MEAN THINGS in the news!
“So,” says Manny, obviously feeling giddy. “Are we ready to test your new sleep-invented prototype?”
“Yup,” I say. “And since you were so brave last time, I’ll volunteer to eat the pizza this time around.”
I go over to our pizza-dispensing machine and make a slice with garlic, garlic, and more garlic, orange gummy bears, and black olives. Out comes the steaming slice. Looking it over, I wish I had some Gross-to-Good Powder handy, but I gobble it down anyway, being sure to rub the toppings all over my teeth.
When I’m done, I smile and show my teeth to Manny.
“Yuck,” he says. “Your teeth look like some kind of strange rainbow of gross colors all running together.”
“Perfect!” I say. Then I take the new prototype, set it for “no braces,” and brush my teeth. The sour apple flavor immediately blocks out all the weird flavors I put on my pizza. It really makes the mint toothpaste taste like delicious, tasty, sour apple candy!
Okay, here’s the moment of truth. I look in the mirror. My teeth are gleaming white! Not green! They look even nicer than they did before!
“It works, Manny!” I say. “Look!”
I smile at Manny. He smiles right back and gives me a thumbs-up.
We celebrate then with normal cheese pizza (Manny gets triple sauce, per usual). It really does feel like a celebration—I think we’re both just happy to be back in our own roles. I make a few more prototypes for testing and put them in my backpack.
“Billy, I still feel really bad that you’re not going to PETULA’S PARTY TOMORROW,” Manny says. “So I was thinking. What if I don’t go? I really wish you could come, but since you can’t, I don’t mind staying here and hanging out with you.”
In all the excitement about switching our roles back and the successful prototype test, I actually forgot all about the party.
“Nah,” I say. “It’s no big deal. You go. I’ll have fun playing Sandbox XXL at home. No worries.”
I turn to Philo.
“Come on, boy. Let’s go home,” I say.
Party Time!
ON THE WAY HOME I feel surprisingly okay about not going to Petula’s party. Sure, it would be fun, and I know most of the kids who’ll be there, but with the success of the Candy Toothbrush prototype and with Manny and me back at our normal jobs, I’m in a pretty good mood.
Besides, Jada sent me some ideas to defeat the next monster in Sandbox XXL—a colossal sea worm as big as a blue whale and with four rows of sharp teeth. Take it from me, level thirty-five is intense.
As I come into the house, I look down the front hallway and spot Emily in the kitchen. As usual, she is wearing her GRUMPY FACE.
“You okay, Em?” I ask, feeling softer toward her after seeing all her supplies in the bathroom.
She points to a platter filled with poppy-seed bagels.
“Mom picked these up. Poppy-seed bagels are my favorite bagel,” Emily says, shaking her head.
Apparently she’s given up the no-talking thing completely. She continues.
“But every time I take even a single bite, the tiny poppy seeds get stuck in my braces, and I can’t get them out.”
“Even with all that equipment you have up in the bathroom?” I ask.
“I’ve tried every single device they sell in the drugstore, but nothing gets the seeds out,” Emily says. “I even tried putting a bagel in the blender, but the seeds still get stuck in my teeth. At this rate it’ll be months or even years before I can eat my favorite foods again. This is totally unfair!”
Is this perfect or what?
It’s like I just walked into a commercial for the Candy Toothbrush!
I pull a new Candy Toothbrush prototype from my backpack, thankful I made a few extras. (We can’t use the same prototypes on everyone—that would be gross!) I flip the switch from “no braces” to “braces.”
“Eat your bagel, Em,” I say. “Then go brush your teeth with this.”
“What is it?” Emily asks, taking the prototype from my hand. “It looks like a REGULAR TOOTHBRUSH.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” I say, still sounding like I’m trying to sell it to store buyer. Hey, I guess some of the CFO stuff did rub off on me. “It only looks like a regular toothbrush, but it’s not. It’s Sure Things, Inc.’s latest invention, the Candy Toothbrush. It makes toothpaste taste like candy and comes with a setting for people with braces. It works even better than a regular toothbrush. You might even say, . . . it’s a SURE THING!”
Emily scrunches up her face and gives me a weird look.
I admit, I do sound like a commercial.
Emily’s look clearly says: If this doesn’t work, you are sooo gonna pay for it!
As I go upstairs I see Emily cutting her poppy-seed bagel and heading toward the fridge for cream cheese.
In my room I stretch out on my bed and boot up Sandbox XXL. It’s go time.
I try getting past level thirty-five three times, but each time, I end up dying and have to use another life. How am I ever going to beat this level?!
I take out my phone and decide to text Jada. If anyone knows how to beat the giant sea worm, she will. Then I decide to check on Emily. She’s not in the kitchen anymore, but I can hear the water running in the bathroom.
A few minutes later the bathroom door swings open. Emily grasps the Candy Toothbrush in her fist and waves it at me.
“It’s too bad
you already have a product called the Magical Microphone,” she says, “Because this really is a MAGICAL TOOTHBRUSH!” She smiles, revealing a mouthful of teeth and braces that are completely clean!
Emily hugs me. Actually hugs me! Have we ever hugged before?!
“Not a single poppy seed anywhere in my braces and it really made the toothpaste taste like candy!” she practically shouts.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Nice to see you smile again, Em,” I say.
“Don’t get all mushy on me now, okay,” she says. Then she ruffles my hair.
Big sisters. Who can figure them out?
The good news is that the Candy Toothbrush works on both settings—braces and no braces. And it makes toothpaste taste like candy. Sure Thing, Inc.’s Next Big Thing is ready to go! I have to tell Manny!
As I pick up my phone to text Manny, I see that Jada has texted me back. In all my excitement, I almost forgot about Sandbox XXL!
Hey, Billy, I was going to ask you yesterday when we met at the dentist’s office, but then that meeting got canceled and I didn’t get to see you. Are you going with anyone to Petula’s pool party? If not, would you be interested in going with me? Happy to tell you all about Sandbox XXL there!
I stare at my phone. Did Jada just ask me to go to the pool party? Sweet, funny, smart Jada?
Moreover, I can’t believe how happy I am to be going with someone was awesome as her!
I text Jada back:
I’d love to! Thanks! See you there . . . bring your tips for defeating this giant sea worm!
I’m going to the party! With Jada!
• • •
I arrive at Petula’s house the next afternoon and head right to the backyard. The place is packed with kids—some are in the pool, some toss Frisbees around on the big lawn, and others set up a water slide.
I spot Allison Arnolds standing by herself. Hmm, that’s weird. Why is she by herself? She asked Peter MacHale to come to the party, but I don’t see Peter anywhere.
“Hi, Billy!” says a voice from behind me. It’s Clayton Harris, followed by Samantha, of course.
“Hi, Clayton. Hi, Samantha,” I say. “It’s nice to see you. Looks like a fun party.”
“I’m glad you came, Billy,” says Samantha. “Who asked you?”
“Well, actually—”
“I did!”
I turn around and see Jada.
“Jada!” I say, and give her a hug. I introduce everyone quickly.
I see Allison walking toward us.
“Hey, Billy,” Allison says.
“Hey Allison,” I say, feeling so very happy that Jada is the one who asked me here. “Peter MacHale told me he was coming with you. Where is he?”
Allison shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Up there,” she says, pointing at the diving board at the far end of the pool. I see Peter standing on the edge of the diving board with his arms spread open wide.
“Hey, everybody!” Peter shouts. “Cannon baaaaaall!!!”
SPLASH!
He hits the water with a tremendous splash, sending a wave out of the pool. Everyone who was near the edge of the pool gets soaked.
Cries of, “Hey!” and “I’m all wet now!” and “You’ll pay for this, Peter!” come from around the pool.
Allison shakes her head. “That’s Peter,” she says, annoyed. Then she heads over to join him in the pool. Clayton and Samantha also walk over to the water, leaving me alone with Jada for the first time.
“I’m really glad you asked me to come, Jada,” I say. “I would’ve been sorry to miss this party.”
“I’m surprised but glad no one else asked you first, Billy,” Jada replies. “And I’m also really happy the way everything is working out with Sure Thing’s Inc.’s newest invention.”
“Did I hear somebody mention Sure Things, Inc.?” says a voice.
I look up, and it’s Manny! He walks over to us with Petula.
“So glad you could be here, Billy,” Petula says, as if she didn’t devise this dumb invitation system. “Hey, Jada. It’s cool to see my school friends and my foosball travel team friends hanging out together.”
Huh. I guess I never even questioned why Jada even knew Petula to begin with, but I guess that makes sense. Jada and Nat don’t go to Fillmore Middle School with the rest of us. Also, Jada plays travel foosball? She must be a master! How much cooler can she get?
“Well, enough chitchat,” Petula says. “Who wants to eat?”
We follow Petula over to a long table filled with food.
I love party food—especially summer party food, like ice cream, smoothies, popsicles—but when I reach the table I get an unpleasant surprise.
“Check it out,” Petula says. “We have detox health shakes, creamy kale salad, and, um, this meat plate here.”
I stare at a platter with a mound of meat towering in the center. I’m not sure I know what color to call it. It’s like the definition of mystery meat. Had I known what Petula would be serving, I would have brought enough Gross-to-Good Powder for everyone!
“What is all this stuff?” I ask Petula.
“My aunt took care of the food for the party,” Petula explains. “She’s very creative. Oh, and here’s some cool news. She is going to be the new DIRECTOR OF CAFETERIA SERVICES at Fillmore Middle School this year! Pretty exciting, huh?”
I feel an uneasy grumbling in my stomach. I’ve had to eat my dad’s cooking my whole life. I know what can go wrong when a bad cook gets creative in the kitchen.
Oh no . . .
If the new director of cafeteria services thinks this stuff is party food, what will we be eating at school?
Is eighth grade DOOMED?
You know that first day of school feeling? That one where on the outside you seem calm and relaxed, but on the inside you’re feeling a little nervous? Yeah, that feeling—the feeling that everything is about to change—that’s how I felt last year.
My name is Billy Sure, and last year I became kind of a celebrity. If you haven’t heard my name by now, I’m the CEO and inventor in charge of SURE THINGS, INC. I run the company along with my best friend Manny Reyes, who is our super smart CFO, businessperson, marketing person, and all-around numbers guy.
My life in the past year has been a pretty crazy ride. I’ve invented all kinds of things, like the CANDY TOOTHBRUSH, SIBLING SILENCER, CAT-DOG TRANSLATOR, and the ALL BALL. I also got to work on a secret mission for spies, be part of a few reality TV shows, and make friends with lots of cool celebrities!
So you’d think something as simple as the first day of eighth grade wouldn’t give me the first day of school jitters, right? WRONG. I may be starting eighth grade off right—with my best friends at my side, my invention company doing well, and texting a girl I kind of like—but deep down I’m just a regular kid who thinks the first day of school is plain SCARY!
“Don’t forget,” says Mr. Jennings, my new history teacher as he erases the whiteboard, “chapters one through four are due tomorrow.”
Yikes! Homework? On the first day of school? Sounds like Emily was right—she said eighth grade would be harder than seventh, and I’ve already got tons of homework to do.
Emily is my older sister, by the way. She’s a sophomore in high school now. I used to think high schoolers were cool . . . but now I don’t even want to think about the amount of homework they get.
BRIIIIIIING!
The bell rings. As I hurry down the hall to my next class—science—I get an incoming text from Jada Parikh. Remember when I said I’m texting a girl I kind of like? Okay, okay, that’s Jada Parikh. Jada is also part of Sure Things, Inc.’s rival invention company, Definite Devices. I guess that should have made us enemies or something, but we are actually pretty good friends. Jada’s amazing at video games and she’s the number three Sandbox XXL player IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!
I open Jada’s text. It’s a picture of her winning a mini game in record time.
Scratch that.
NUM
BER TWO PLAYER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!
Jada doesn’t go to my school, Fillmore Middle School. She goes to private school and they don’t start their classes until next week. But we live pretty close to each other and know lots of the same people. She and Petula Brown are on the same foosball travel league, for example.
As I slip into science class, I notice that Ms. Soo has already placed a list of the labs we’re expected to complete this quarter on the board.
No doubt about it. Eighth grade is no joke!
Ms. Soo outlines the way the year will go. Chemistry readings, lectures, labs. Biology experiments, films, field trips. A physics conference with the eighth grade advanced math class, demonstrating the connection between the two subjects.
My head is starting to SPIN. But at least she hasn’t given us any homework on the first day of school.
“And here is your homework assignment for tonight,” Ms. Soo says, as if my thought had jinxed it!
Rats. I add that assignment to my growing list labeled HOW IN THE WORLD WILL BILLY SURE GET ALL OF THIS DONE?!
BRIIIIIIING!
The bell rings again. As it does, I see Timothy Bu and Clayton Harris looking up at each other and shaking their heads. At least I’m not the only one surprised by all of this homework!
Next up is lunch. Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about lunch—even eighth grade lunch. Not unless the cafeteria staff assigns me homework, anyway!
In the cafeteria I sit with a bunch of my friends at a long table. We’re a pretty interesting group. Manny sits next to me. Around the rest of the table sits Petula Brown, Peter MacHale, Allison Arnolds, Timothy Bu, Samantha Jenkins, and Clayton Harris.
For a long time Manny and I tried to make it a point not to sit together at lunch. We spend so much time together at Sure Things, Inc. that we thought it would be a good idea to hang out with other friends at lunchtime. But now all of our friends like to hang out together. It’s pretty GREAT, if I do say so myself!
I open the brown bag Dad packed for me. My dad likes to cook, though his food creations are a little . . . um, creative, I should say. In my brown bag I find one of his trademark PEANUT-BUTTER-AND-JELLY-STUFFED PICKLES. They actually taste better than they sound.