I nudged Katie. “You were in the student lounge this morning. Did you see anyone put something on the bulletin board?”
She frowned. “I wasn’t really paying attention, sorry. But you could ask the other girls if they saw something.”
Brooke nodded. “We’ll need a list of their names.” She seemed to have gotten control of herself and gone into Bossy Brooke mode. “Chances are this kid won’t put the clippings just anywhere; it’ll be high traffic areas where the clippings will get the most notice. That means the student lounge, the cafeteria, Locker 411, and the restrooms.”
“Don’t forget the gym,” supplied Tim.
“What about the teachers’ lounge?” I suggested.
Brooke shook her head. “The teachers would immediately take them down. Plus, it’s too risky. We need to be watching those other locations like hawks.” She turned to Tim. “Did you already rip down the clipping from the student lounge?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. “Of course!”
Instead of taking it from him, Brooke then turned to me and Katie. “You’re holding tryouts in the student lounge at lunch, right?”
We both nodded.
“So, V, I’m putting you in charge of keeping that location cleared,” said Brooke. “Check it between classes and watch for any suspicious behavior during your auditions. I’ll cover the gym. Tim, you keep an eye on the cafeteria, and Heather, you watch Locker 411.”
“What about me?” asked Katie. “I want to help!”
“You can watch the bathrooms,” said Brooke.
Katie blushed. “All of them?”
“I’ll cover the guys’ bathrooms,” Tim assured her. She smiled gratefully.
Brooke clapped her hands. “We’ve already wasted too much time here. Go check your locations and get to class.”
I split off from the group and checked the student lounge. Nothing. I was about to leave when I heard music booming from the far side of the room. I turned and saw Berkeley Dennis turning some knobs on a massive soundboard, complete with speakers that were almost as big as me.
“Whoa!” I hurried over. “Is that for the fashion show auditions?”
Berkeley grinned and nodded while he pushed a few sliders on the board. Suddenly, I could feel the bass in my bones, along with a new wave of excitement. Who cared if he was in sixth grade? My fashion show had a DJ! And he was good!
I nodded along with the beat of the music, imagining lights flashing as my models strutted down the runway wearing . . . pink overalls and lavender turtlenecks.
In my head, there was the sound of a record skipping.
I signaled for him to turn off the music, and he did so, spreading his arms wide.
“What do you think?”
“It’s great!” I said, clapping. “It’s just that the fashions are more like this.” I pointed to my clothes. “So do you have any calmer music? Like a lullaby?”
He smirked. “Seriously? I figured you’d be designing something funkier. Like what you normally wear.”
“I was going to,” I agreed, “but the Lazenby’s buyer will be looking for something else.”
Berkeley scratched his head. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“Thanks,” I told him. “And sorry. That really was great music.”
“No worries,” he said. “DJs cater to the crowd, you know?”
The warning bell for first period sounded, and I pointed to the door. “I should go.”
“Right behind you,” he said.
I paused. “You’re just going to leave your equipment here?”
“Principal Winslow gave me the keys to lock up,” he said, pointing toward the door.
I led the way into the hall. “Well, at least I won’t have to keep watching the room.”
“Huh?” he said, turning the lock behind us.
“Nothing,” I said. “See you back here at lunch?”
Berkeley saluted me. “And I’ll work on getting those tracks changed for the auditions.”
I gave him a thumbs-up but couldn’t help feeling a little guilty as he walked away. Before, I was just sacrificing my style for this show. Now I was sacrificing someone else’s, too.
That Lazenby’s buyer had better bring a credit card to our show.
CHAPTER
5
Walk the Walk
The music from Berkeley’s speakers might have been loud, but the chatter of twenty girls hoping for a modeling gig was way louder. Katie and I had taped parallel lines on the carpet about four feet apart to mimic a runway that ran half the length of the student lounge. At the end of the parallel lines, we’d positioned two chairs for us to sit in and do the judging.
Tim tried to sneak in a third chair while he was helping Berkeley with last-minute setup, but I reminded him, with a push toward the door, that he needed to be watching the cafeteria and restrooms for the Advice Column Killer.
“There’s a killer in this room right now,” he grumbled. “A fun killer. Know what her name is?”
“Don’t be silly. Mary Patrick’s not in here,” I said with a big smile. “Bye!”
When I turned, Berkeley was right beside me.
“Hey, I got busy with school stuff, so I didn’t have time to mess with the tracks. The girls are going to have to walk to my original music, but I can change it by the time the show comes around.”
“Sure,” I told him.
He grinned. “You didn’t try to correct me when I mentioned having it ready for the show. Does that mean I got the job?”
I smiled back. “Maybe. Probably. Just get the music going!”
Berkeley chuckled and trotted away. I turned to Katie and gave her a nod. She stood on one of the chairs and waved her hands above her head.
“Attention, you divalicious things! It’s time for the runway auditions. All we need you to do is start at the beginning of the runway where Berkeley is”—she pointed to the soundboard and speakers—“and walk down to this end at a casual pace. Turn left, turn right, and walk back to Berkeley. Got it?”
There was a chorus of “Yes!”
But not everyone got it.
One girl walked so fast, I wondered if she imagined herself on fire. Another girl fell down while turning at the end of the runway. She was barefoot.
“Are you okay?” I asked, helping her up.
She examined her nails to make sure they weren’t broken and then nodded at me. “It looks like it.”
And then there was a girl who turned, left, left again, and left a third time.
“Why is she doing that? Is one of her legs shorter than the other?” Katie whispered to me.
“Maybe she never learned her right from her left,” I whispered back.
After the last girl finally walked the runway, Katie and I applauded, and Berkeley lowered the music.
“Okay, he is seriously good,” she said, still clapping. “I want him to just follow me around and mix a soundtrack for my life.”
I nodded in agreement. “I think a couple songs will need adjusting, but he’s definitely better than a laptop and a playlist.”
Katie stood on her chair again. “Thank you, ladies, for coming out. Vanessa and I will review your auditions and let you know later today. For those who get chosen, we’re going to ask to meet you tomorrow morning before school to get your measurements.”
More loud chatter as twenty girls made their way out of the student lounge. I caught Berkeley’s eye and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Make sure you have the new tracks ready by next Thursday’s dress rehearsal!” I said.
In response, he cranked the music up and danced in place.
“I think he likes our decision!” Katie shouted to me.
I giggled and pointed to the audition sheets.
“We should really make our choices!” I shouted back.
I motioned for Berkeley to turn the music down, and Katie and I reviewed the models.
Speed Walker, Trippy Longstocking, and Leftie we
re easy eliminations, along with a few others, but then Katie and I stopped seeing eye to eye.
I was looking for girls like Heather, and Katie was looking for potential ax murderers.
“This one was fierce!” She held up a photo. “Her eyes were screaming ‘I’ll eat you alive!’”
“Do we really want fierce?” I said. “Maybe friendly is better. Like this girl.” I showed Katie a different photo, and she shook her head.
“That one was too timid. We need girls who own the runway. Girls who own the outfits we put them in.”
“But they also need to look like they belong in those outfits,” I said. “Your girl looks like she belongs in a straitjacket.”
Katie sighed but put the photo in the no pile. “What about this one? Linda? Did you see her sashay at the end of the runway? So divalicious!”
“Too divalicious,” I said. “We’re trying to say ‘Buy our clothes,’ not ‘You can’t afford this.’”
This time Katie didn’t put the photo in the reject pile. Instead, she studied me. “What’s going on with you? These girls are exactly what we’re looking for. And I know for a fact that you’ve said Linda would make a great runway model.”
“For a different line of clothes, maybe,” I said. “But Lazenby’s doesn’t want girls with attitude. I say we go with someone safer like this girl.” I picked out another photo.
Katie made a surprised face. “She waved when she reached the end of the runway.”
“She was just happy to see us!”
Katie ran her hands through her hair. “Listen, how about we do this? You pick seven girls to model your fashions, and I pick seven to model mine.”
“That’ll work,” I said. “And we’ll see which ones get the buyer’s attention.”
Katie smirked. “If we wanted to do that, we could just put Leftie back in.”
By the end of lunch, I’d chosen my models and passed the list to Katie.
“We actually have two in common!” she said. “We’ll have those girls go twice. Once at the very beginning and again at the very end, so they’ll have time to change.”
“Glad we could finally agree on something,” I said. Reaching into my purse, I took out a handful of change and started feeding it into the snack machine.
“Oh, right. We didn’t even have lunch!” she said. “Don’t you think we should try to grab something healthier from the cafeteria, though?”
“This isn’t for us; I need it for Journalism,” I said. A pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups fell to the bottom of the machine, followed by two more. “It’s feeding time at the zoo, and I’m about to face an angry grizzly bear.”
Katie wrinkled her forehead. “I really don’t get newsroom references.”
“My editor’s mad because we still haven’t caught the Advice Column Killer,” I amended.
“Oh.” Katie glanced toward the bulletin board. “Well, it doesn’t look like anyone came in while we were here.”
“Which means there could be an advice clipping somewhere else with a lot of innocent people on it.”
Katie put the audition results into her backpack. “In that case I should check the girls’ restrooms. See you after school? We can pin some patterns together.”
“Aw, I can’t,” I said. “I’ve got to babysit Terrell.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Terrell was going to be at a friend’s for the afternoon, but I needed to get back to Dee’s Fabric World to find some milder colors and patterns. Something told me that if Katie didn’t approve of my choice of models, she probably wouldn’t approve of my new choice of fabrics, either.
“Well, good luck in Journalism, then!” she said. “And if your editor tries to attack, play dead.” At the confused look from me, she smiled. “It works with bears!”
The grizzly was all teeth when I walked into the newsroom, but it wasn’t because she was going in for the kill. Mary Patrick was standing near Gil’s desk actually looking pleased.
“What’s going on?” I asked, lowering my bag but keeping my eyes on her. “Why are you so happy?”
Gil glanced up at me and smiled. “Mary Patrick came up with a way to stop the Advice Column Killer once and for all. I’ve got to admit, she’s pretty smart.”
“Thank you!” Brooke appeared, dropping into her seat. “I love it when my brilliance is noticed.”
“Not you. Me!” said Mary Patrick, poking herself in the chest. “I took care of things when you Floptastic Four couldn’t.”
“Oh, you don’t think we’re handling it?” said Brooke, jutting out her chin. “Me and my team are watching all the major gathering places in school and keeping them clippings-free!” She turned to me. “V, have there been any new postings in the student lounge?”
I shook my head.
“Heather!” Brooke called as our friend came through the door. “Any bread crumbs on your trail?”
Heather wrinkled her forehead at Brooke’s choice of words. “I didn’t find any new clippings in Locker 411 if that’s what you mean.”
Brooke nodded and glanced around the room. “Well, I think we all know it could be a hundred years before Tim shows up, but if he’d seen any clippings in the cafeteria or boys’ room, he would’ve let me know by now.” She smirked at Mary Patrick. “So what do you think of that?”
“Funny,” said Mary Patrick. “I was just going to ask what you thought of this.” She produced a small piece of newspaper. “I found it in the library.”
Yet another advice column clipping from our favorite fan.
Brooke smacked herself on the forehead. “The library! Why didn’t Tim think of that?”
“What? Why does all this rage keep happening when I show up?” he asked from the doorway.
“We didn’t think to watch the library,” Heather filled him in. “And that’s where the Advice Column Killer struck.”
He cocked his head. “And that’s my fault why?”
“You weren’t here to defend yourself,” said Brooke with a shrug. She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Okay, not that I’m admitting defeat, but what did you come up with, Mary Patrick?”
Mary Patrick gestured to Gil, who held up a sketch he’d been working on.
“Dun, dun, DUN,” he said.
Mary Patrick gave him a look. “I thought we agreed no reveal music.”
“Sorry.”
Gil had drawn what appeared to be a Wanted poster, but instead of the culprit’s face, there was a dark silhouette with the word BULLY in the center.
“A Wanted poster?” asked Brooke.
“So far you’ve only had a few people watching out for the Advice Column Killer, but now the whole school will be!” Mary Patrick crossed her arms in triumph.
Heather pointed at the bottom of the sketch. “We’re offering a reward?”
Tim inched closer to the drawing. “How much?”
Mary Patrick’s smug smile reappeared. “We won’t say. But the mystery of it will keep people interested. And we’ll require proof of the culprit being caught in the act.”
I nodded. “This is really clever, Mary Patrick. It might even scare the Advice Column Killer into giving up. Especially if he or she knows the entire school is on the hunt.”
“That was my thinking, too,” agreed Mary Patrick.
All of us turned to look at Brooke, who rolled her eyes. “It’s not a terrible idea. But what are we supposed to do until this comes out in the paper? Just let the Advice Column Killer keep ruining people’s lives?”
“Oh, we’re not printing this in the newspaper,” said Mary Patrick. “We’re posting this all over school. It ends today.” She slapped a palm on Gil’s desk.
Now Brooke smiled. “You sound almost ruthless. I like it.”
“I’ve already gotten permission from Mrs. H and the principal,” Mary Patrick continued, “so at the end of class, I want you to post these all over campus. Seriously. Every classroom door, every common area, and every pillar. Even on kids who are standing still for too long. I
should be able to see one of these everywhere I look.”
My friends and I agreed, and Mary Patrick turned to Gil, who got out of his seat and headed for the copier while Mary Patrick headed to the front of the class.
“Man, I’m glad she’s on our side,” said Tim.
“Yeah, remember when she wanted to get rid of the advice column?” asked Heather. “Now she’s fighting to save it.”
“Because the advice column is awesome,” I pointed out.
“Exactly.” Brooke high-fived me. “All right. When she gives us the posters, I’ll take the north end of the building. Heather, you can take the east, V can take the south, and Tim can—”
“Take a nap?” he suggested.
The rest of us laughed.
“I thought that’s what you’re already doing when you’re late to everything,” I said.
“Only some of the time,” he said. “But yeah, I’ll take the west wing. It’ll be perfect practice for when I work in the White House.” He grinned and elbowed Heather. “Get it?”
She nodded solemnly. “I think you’d make a great tour guide there.”
Brooke and I snickered.
Since the advice requests weren’t flowing in like normal, I did the best with what I had and chose to work on a letter from A Little Different.
Dear Lincoln’s Letters,
I love my friends, but we are so different when it comes to clothes and makeup. I like to keep things simple, and they’re always dolled up. They keep telling me I’ll never get a boyfriend if I don’t try harder, but I’m more worried we won’t stay friends. How can I fit in again?
Sincerely,
A Little Different
It was Makeover 101, and I knew exactly what to tell her.
Dear A Little Different,
Congratulations on your first step to a new you! Start by accentuating one facial feature with more makeup and try wearing a new wardrobe piece around the house first, until you’re comfortable with it. Think about what you’d like to achieve with this new look, and with that goal in mind, you’ll have the boys lining up at your locker.
Confidentially yours,
Vanessa Jackson
“Done with this week’s advice!” I announced, slapping it on Brooke’s desk. As she looked it over, her forehead started to wrinkle.
Confidentially Yours #6 Page 5