After Scarlett makes her exit, the morning turns around, and we start selling like crazy. It’s like people are almost throwing money at us. And what a wonderful feeling it is to see kids all over the neighbourhood holding our balloons and eating our Jumbo Freezies.
At 1:00 we decide to pack up. Since I’ve been handling the money end of things, I count up the profits while Rachel loads up my dad’s car with the leftover stuff for Goodwill.
“How much did we make?” Rachel squeals, excitedly.
I smile. “Well, the good news is we made a profit.”
“Rachel’s face falls, “The good news? What’s the bad news?”
“We didn’t make as much money as I thought.”
“Yes, we did!” Rachel argues. “We made tons of money. We made enough for the tickets, right?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly? How much did we make?”
“Ten bucks.”
“How could we have only made ten bucks?” Rachel cries. “We sold tons of stuff; I even sold some of my artwork!”
“Well, maybe our expenses were too high.”
“Our expenses!” Rachel exclaims. “Hannah, you said you were good at handling money! How much were our expenses? How much was the ad in the paper?”
“Well, the ad was cheap because I split the cost with the neighbourhood,” I say, “and Gertrude lent me the money for our supplies. Wasn’t that nice of her?” I smile hopefully.
“Super,” Rachel answers sarcastically. “How much were the balloons?”
“Only a dollar-fifty each.”
“One-fifty each!” she yells.
“They were filled with helium!”
“Well, how much did you sell them for?”
“How much did I sell them for?” I frown. “They were freebies. I gave them away!”
“How many, Hannah?”
“Only thirty.”
“Oh, Hannah …” Rachel lets out a deep sigh. “Please tell me you charged for all of those Jumbo Freezies.”
I look down at the ground.
“Hannah!”
“Well, the balloons and the Freezies brought in a lot of business! So did the samples!” I add.
“The samples?” Rachel asks slowly.
“Yeah, well, the muffins weren’t selling so well, so I cut some up for a little try before you buy. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I thought we sold all those muffins.” Rachel frowns.
“Well, we sold a few and I ate a few, and the rest I gave away.”
“Oh, Hannah …” She closes her eyes and sighs again.
“Sorry,” I say, wiping a crumb from my mouth.
“What now?” Rachel shakes her head.
“We try again.”
“Another yard sale?” She looks horrified.
“Of course not!” I sneer.
Rachel throws her arms up. “Then what? What are we going to do?”
“People want to spend money, Rachel. We just have to figure out what they want to spend it on.”
“Yeah, that’s the challenging part, especially since we have nothing left to sell.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we like challenges,” I say.
7
V.I.P. Also Stands for Vile Inconsiderate (or Icky) Person
With the yard sale over, the rest of the weekend was dedicated to homework, which was fine with me because I had an assignment to finish, an assignment on Josh Taylor (I know … big surprise!). In my defence, I had to write about a topic I felt deeply connected to. So, you can see I really didn’t have much choice. Josh Taylor was perfect subject material!
My project is due today, and it’s an oral presentation, so I’ll be speaking in front of the class. A lot of people get totally freaked out by public speaking, but not me. I like being in front of a crowd. It makes me feel kind of important, like I’m a teacher or an actor or something. I’m actually a little excited about today, especially since I’ll be “teaching” everyone about Josh Taylor!
Yesterday I spent hours doing research, verifying facts, and checking out all the latest Josh Taylor gossip on celebritydish.com. This is where I found out that Josh was seen only last week having lunch with some mystery woman at the Manhattan Grill and Oyster Bar in New York City, and then later that same day, he was seen again at a New York hospital with the same woman when she was taken by ambulance to the emergency department. Cool, huh?
Once my research was done, I went on you-can-do-anything.com to get some pointers on how to give an exciting and effective presentation.
This is what I found out:
Know Your Material and Practise: No problem! My material, I know inside and out, backwards and forwards, and practice; who needs practice when you so know your material? Just the same, I ran over everything with Rachel on the phone last night.
Overcome Nervousness: Totally not a problem, but if I was nervous, I would just picture all the guys in my class wearing hot-pink bras. (Try it sometime; it really works!)
Engage Your Audience: I’m planning to start off with a joke. If I get them laughing, I’ll have them in the palm of my hand!
Stay Focused: How hard can it be to stay focused on Josh Taylor? Piece of cake!
So, the morning begins with a presentation on Formula 1 Grand Prix Racing. Surprisingly, it’s way more interesting than I expected. The next presentation is on Dance Dance Revolution, and as it turns out, is way less interesting than I expected.
“Okay Hannah, you’re next,” Mrs. Walker says, looking at her watch.
I look out at the rows of the bored faces and smile.
“Good morning everyone!” I say, a little louder than I’d planned. “I’m so happy to be here today.” Out of the corner of my eye I can see Scarlett
passing a note to Billy Butler. He reads it and nods, letting out a snort of laughter. I know it’s best to ignore them; hopefully it has nothing to do with me. But just the same, Billy Butler, at least in my mind, is now wearing a lovely, hot-pink, polka-dot bra with matching underwear.
“So, a doctor, a lawyer, two hillbillies, and a priest walk into a bar. The doctor says —”
“Hannah, is this a joke?” Mrs. Walker interrupts me. She really has a scowl on. She obviously has no sense of humour at all! I mean, who doesn’t like a joke?
“It’s part of my presentation,” I reply honestly. “I’m trying to engage my audience.”
“Hannah, just stick to the facts.”
“But —”
“Hannah, please get on with it.”
“But, I need to engage —”
“Hannah! The facts only, please!”
“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. “So, as I was saying, I’m super excited to be here today to talk to you about someone I truly admire, someone with massive talent, someone with enormous determination, and someone who is, like, super, majorly hot …” I glance over at Mrs. Walker and see she’s pursing her lips. “I mean … um … very good-looking.”
“Go on, Hannah,” Mrs. Walker prods, motioning with her hand.
“So, let me start by asking how many of you know who Josh Taylor is?”
All the girls’ hands immediately shoot into the air.
“Great, so now let me tell you a few things you might not know about him!” I hit the keyboard to start my PowerPoint presentation. “Josh Taylor started working at the tender age of six on a commercial for Sun Shine Orange Juice. He was the little boy who showed up at school with an orange-juice moustache. Remember that commercial?” I pause, giving everyone a second to think.
Mrs. Walker taps her wrist and glares at me.
“So, the world fell in love with that little Sun Shine Orange Juice boy; they knew he was something special. A star was born, and a career was launched.”
“Where was it launched, outer space?” Billy Butler says, laughing as he tosses a paper airplane, which ends up stabbing me square in the chest.
“Ow!” I wince in pain.
I
hear a few kids chuckling. Billy gives Scarlett a secret nod. She winks and does that annoying, flirty giggle she always does around the guys. Suddenly, Billy pops up from his chair, both hands fly to his chest and he grimaces in fake agony … an obvious attempt to imitate me.
“That’s enough, Billy! To the office, now!” Mrs. Walker points toward the door.
I glance around the classroom; now everyone is laughing (and not in a good “engaged” kind of way). Mrs. Walker checks her watch again.
Okay, I remind myself, number four, you-can-do-anything.com — stay focused.
“That’s enough, class! Hannah, please continue,” Mrs. Walker says, wresting back control of the class.
“Okay … so,” I stammer, as the laughter starts to die down, “it was that sweet little boy with the orange-juice moustache who became the awesome musical talent we all know and love today, the one and only … Josh Taylor.”
“Okay, Hannah, that was wonderful,” Mrs. Walker says, yawning as she gets up from her seat. “So, Sam, I think you are next.”
“But wait,” I cry, “I wasn’t done yet; I barely got started!”
“Hannah, these are supposed to be short presentations, no more than five minutes.”
“But I —”
“Hannah, we have fifteen other students to hear from today, so I’m afraid there is no more time.”
“But I have so much more … I mean, how will you mark me when I haven’t even finished!”
“Don’t worry, you did fine.”
“Fine!” I yelp. A few of the kids are snickering. “I have to do more than fine! Public speaking is my strength! It’s the one thing I’m good at! I was supposed to get the class in the palm of my hand, and I didn’t even get to …”
“Hannah,” she says sounding frustrated, “you got an A, now sit down!”
I got an A? Wow … I got an A! Well, of course I got an A! Public speaking is my strength; it’s the one thing I’m good at! Not that Mrs. Walker heard one tenth of what I had to say. Oh well, I still got an A. I can’t wait to tell Rachel!
After one more presentation about cheese or something, the bell rings. I am out of my seat like a flash and out the door, obviously not paying attention because suddenly I realize I’m like a millisecond away from smashing straight into Scarlett Hastings’s stuck-up face. I slam on the brakes and kind of wobble in front of her, trying to keep balanced. She narrows her eyes, stares me up and down, and then applies a thin, shiny coat of pale pink M.A.C. lipgloss.
“Interesting presentation.” She presses her lips together and pops her gloss back in her Coach bag. Anika and Missy, who have suddenly appeared on either side of her, nod in agreement. How would they know? They weren’t even there.
“Oh … thanks,” I take a step back, relieved to see Rachel’s head bobbing through the crowd of kids in the hallway.
“So, how did it go?” Rachel demands, rushing toward us.
Before I can open my mouth, Scarlett starts, “Well Rachel,” she says, her eyes twinkling with delight, “I’d really love to tell you that Hannah did an awesome job, and that her presentation wasn’t a complete snore-fest, but I’d be lying, and that’s something I just don’t do.”
“That’s right,” Anika interjects, “she never lies.”
“It’s true,” Missy says, wide-eyed and nodding, “she doesn’t … like, never ever.”
“Oh, and I guess since we’re on the subject of honesty,” Scarlett continues, “I should probably tell you that your little yard sale was … um … actually kind of pathetic.”
“Pathetic?” I rub my head, trying to absorb everything Scarlett just said.
“Yeah, Hannah, it sucked. Just like your presentation.”
“Our yard sale did not suck, and I’m sure Hannah’s presentation was awesome!” Rachel frowns.
“I can promise you, Rachel, it did, and Hannah’s presentation was just … sad. Oh, and by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how’s your little ticket fund coming along?”
“What?” Rachel looks horrified.
“Well, I heard a rumour that you two can’t afford to go to the concert, so you’re trying to raise some cash.” She reaches over and pats my hand. “I hadn’t realized your parents were having money problems.”
I feel the red rising in my cheeks.
“Oh, that’s right,” she says, mockingly, “you don’t even have a cellphone, do you?”
That girl knows exactly where to stick the knife in. She is pure evil.
“Oh, but don’t worry, it’s no big deal if you can’t go to the concert. I’ll take lots of pictures for you.”
Rachel clenches her jaw. “Pictures?”
“Oh, I totally don’t mind. You see, my father, he’s pretty important, and well … how can I put this so you’ll understand … let’s just say … he has connections …” Scarlett pats her designer bag. “So, I’ll be sitting in the V.I.P. section — that’s the Very-Important-Person section, in case you didn’t know, which is of course right next to the stage.”
I roll my eyes. Rachel’s face has turned crimson.
“Anyway, I’ll get lots and lots of close-up shots. So now you can see the concert without actually being there, because of me. Isn’t that great?”
As Scarlett blabbers away, I look over at Rachel. Her nostrils are flaring and her hands are clenched into tight fists. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was about to punch Scarlett Hastings right in her high-and-mighty face. For just a second, I let my mind drift.… What if she actually did haul off and slug her one right in those glossy, pale-pink M.A.C. lips? The image is happily floating around in my head when a sudden hoot of laughter brings me back to reality. It came from Rachel.
“Well actually, you misunderstand, Scarlett.” Rachel says, still chuckling.
What? I look from Rachel to Scarlett, from Scarlett to Rachel. What is she talking about?
“Okay, this should be interesting,” Scarlett says. “Go ahead, Rachel. Tell me, what did I misunderstand?”
“Well, you probably don’t know that I have an aunt!” she blurts out.
“Okay … whatever …” Scarlett plucks a nail file from her bag and starts sharpening her claws.
“Well my aunt works at 98.6 The Hitz, and you know they’re promoting the concert. Right?”
“Of course I do.” Scarlett furrows her brow.
“Of course she does,” Anika adds defensively.
“Yeah,” Missy joins in.
“Well, she’s hooking us up with tickets, and you know what?” Rachel glares at her. “She told me our seats are the best in the stadium! So, if there really is a V.I.P. section, then I guess we’ll see you there!”
Scarlett lets out a little gasp as a look of shock registers on her face, but then slowly, an evil grin creeps across her lips. “Oh, there’s a V.I.P. section, but I seriously doubt I’ll see either one of you there. You see,” Scarlett hisses, as she turns to walk away, “I don’t believe your aunt is getting you tickets, and even if she did, I think you should know they don’t let poor, boring losers with disgusting clothes from Walmart in the V.I.P. section.”
“Walmart!” Rachel huffs as soon as Scarlett and her “yes-girls” turn the corner.
“Who cares? You can get some nice stuff at Walmart,” I say, looking down at my cute yellow Tweety Bird T-shirt. “So, what was that all about anyway?”
“I lied,” she says, shrugging.
“Yes, Einstein, I know you lied. But you never lie! Do you even have an aunt?”
“Yeah, Aunt Becky, but she doesn’t work for the radio station. She works at the hospital with my dad. She’s an allergy specialist,” Rachel says, chuckling. “I just couldn’t help myself. That girl is evil.”
I nod. “Yup, she’s evil all right. And she is going to torture us if we don’t get those tickets.”
8
Show Me the Money
Do you ever wonder what people did before Google? I mean, how did they find out anything about anyth
ing? Now, if you want to find out the population of mountain gorillas in Africa, it’s just a click away; if you want to know how to make a triple-layer chocolate fudge cake, that’s a click away, too, and if you want to find easy ways to make money, just type it in. And that’s exactly what I did, a little over an hour ago in the computer lab.
“I have it, Rachel,” I say, closing up my locker for the day. “I have the perfect answer to our problem.”
“The answer to our problem is money,” she says, rubbing her fingers against her thumb.
“True,” I say, grinning, “and I know how we’re gonna to get it.”
“How?”
“Jewellery.”
“Jewellery?”
“Yup,” I answer, as we walk out of the school. “We’re going to start a jewellery business!”
“Seriously?”
“Not just any jewellery, Rachel.” I stop and look at her. “We’re going to sell … friendship bracelets.”
“Friendship bracelets?” She raises an eyebrow.
“People love bracelets.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Plus, they’re cheap and easy to make.”
“Okay, so what makes you think people will buy our bracelets?” Rachel asks.
“People will buy our bracelets because we have a gimmick,” I say, crossing my arms confidently.
“A gimmick?”
“Yup, something that’ll make every kid in our school desperate to have one.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” she says.
“So, like, hundreds of years ago, people used to make these really cool bracelets, and then they would give them to their friends as a symbol of their undying friendship and loyalty. If you accepted a bracelet, you had to promise to keep it on forever.”
“Forever?” Rachel squishes up her face. “Like, never take it off? That’s actually kind of gross. I mean, wouldn’t it get kind of nasty after a while?”
“Well, probably, but here’s the best part!” I beam. “With your promise you also got to make a wish! If you kept your bracelet on till it fell off on its own, then your wish would magically come true. Awesome, right?”
Hannah Smart, Operation Josh Taylor Page 4