Читать книгу Hannah Smart 3-Book Bundle - Melody Fitzpatrick - Страница 15

The Show Must Go On

“Hannah!” I hear Mom calling from her office.

“Coming.” I let out a sigh, heaving myself off my bed.

I’ve been avoiding her ever since I got home from school today. I don’t want deal with any questions about the business … not today.

She smiles. “How’s the business going?”

“Um … great!” I lie. “Just super! Couldn’t be better!” I try to force a smile, crossing my fingers behind my back.

“Really?” She tilts her head to the side suspiciously.

“Yeah … um … we have tons of bracelets made and you should see our display!”

“How are your sales?”

“Sales? What do you mean exactly?” I pick up a travel brochure with a lighthouse and a lobster on the cover.

“How many Wishbandz have you sold?”

“Well, yesterday was a pretty good day. We sold around ten.”

“Yeah, you told me that. How about today?”

“Um … today was fine,” I say, squeezing my crossed fingers a little tighter. “Are we planning a trip this summer?” I smile, holding up the travel guide.

“Hannah, are you avoiding my question? As an investor, I think I have a right to know how the business is going.”

I fib again. “It’s going fine.”

“So, how many Wishbandz have you sold so far?”

“Um … well … if I add them all together, um … it would be about ten so far.” I bite my lip.

“So there were no sales today?” She frowns. “I thought you said you’d have twenty or thirty more sold by now.”

“Well we ran into a tiny obstacle,” I finally admit.

“What kind of obstacle?”

“They shut us down at school.” I look down at my feet.

“Well, why do you need to sell your Wishbandz at school?”

“Where else would we sell them? School is our target market, remember?”

“Well, looks like your target market doesn’t care where you sell your Wishbandz as long as you are selling them.” She points to her iPad and taps on the screen. “Look! You must have forty messages here, and for once they’re not all from Rachel.”

I plunk myself down in the chair and grab the iPad. She’s right. It’s not over yet!

Just then, the phone rings.

“Have you checked your messages?” Rachel squeals.

“Yeah, just checking them now,” I say.

“They want our Wishbandz, Hannah!”

“Yeah, I know!”

“I don’t understand it, though. I mean, how did all of these people get our contact info?”

“Well, I … um …” I stammer.

“What did you do?”

“I probably shouldn’t have, but I was so ticked off with Scarlett, on the way out of the school, I tacked one of our Wishbandz on the bulletin board.”

“And?” Rachel says.

“And a little poster with our email addresses on it.”

“How little?” Rachel asks.

I laugh nervously. “It was just a piece of bristol board.”

“Bristol board?”

“Well, I wanted it to be noticeable.”

“I hope Scarlett didn’t see it,” Rachel says.

“Who cares about Scarlett? What do you think of all these orders?”

“Awesome,” she answers, “but we still need a place to sell the Wishbandz. Let’s be realistic; I just can’t see all of these kids getting rides to our homes just to buy bracelets.”

Looking through my messages, I realize she’s prob­ably right; most of these kids are bus students, and some of them don’t even go to our school.

“Hey, did you get anything from Mrs. Harris?” I ask.

“I’ll check,” she says, pausing for a second. “Yeah, I got a message. You got one too?”

“Yeah, I did,” I say, suddenly feeling weak. “Maybe she saw the poster.”

“Or maybe Scarlett saw it and found some stupid rule to get us suspended.”

“Suspended!” I cry.

“Hannah, you put up a poster at the school after we were told explicitly not to sell at school. Right?”

“Well, why don’t I just read it,” I say, clicking the message.

Hi there, Hannah and Rachel. Please stop into the office tomorrow morning before the bell so that I can return your bracelet, which I found hanging from a very large, neon green poster on our school’s front lobby bulletin board today. As we discussed, it is not permissible for students to sell goods for personal profit on school property during school hours. That being said, I am very pleased with your efforts. Your bracelets are very lovely and quite unique. In all honesty, if it were up to me, I would have no issue with you selling your Wishbandz on school property. Regrettably, it’s not my decision, and as another student pointed out, rules are rules. It is my sincere wish that this setback does not discourage you completely. I’m sure both of you, being as smart and innovative as you are, will figure something out. Good luck and all the best!

Mrs. Harris

P.S. I’d like to pre-order 17 Wishbandz, any design is fine as long as they are suitable for a male or a female. Please let me know when and where I can pick them up, off of school property of course.

“Hannah,” Mom pops her head in the door, “Can you pass me that travel brochure off of the pile of mail on the desk?”

As I pick it up, I notice something underneath — something very interesting. It’s a flyer. Suddenly, the solution is staring right at me.

“Rachel, did you ever hear about Christmas in October?”

“Yeah, sure! It’s that craft show they have in our gym every fall.”

“Rachel!” I say laughing. “This is the answer to our prayers! This is where we’re gonna sell our bracelets.”

* * *

Over the next week, we somehow manage to make over three hundred Wishbandz, not just for kids, but for whole hockey teams, for a church choir, for all the cashiers at the grocery store … the list goes on and on. We send messages to everyone telling them we will be selling our Wishbandz for one night only at the Christmas in October Craft Fair.

The week flies by and before we know it, it’s the big night. We haven’t even finished setting up, when people start throwing money at us, trying to get first dibs on our bracelets. By the end of the evening, we manage to sell every one of our Wishbandz and we could’ve sold a lot more. The best and most exciting thing that happens, though, is not selling our very last bracelet, or counting up all of our profits, or finding out that we have more than enough money to buy our Josh Taylor tickets; it’s meeting a Channel 7 news reporter who tells us that she is doing a TV news story on young entrepreneurs, and that she wants us to be a part of it! Of course, I agree for both of us right away (I mean, who wouldn’t) and within minutes the camera is rolling and Rachel and I are being interviewed. Eeeeeek!

* * *

“We’re here this evening with two local, young entrepreneurs, Rachel Carter and Hannah Smart,” the smiling reporter, Maria, says to the camera.

The camera turns toward us. I’m grinning so much, my cheeks hurt. I must look like that stupid, smiling cat from Alice in Wonderland. I glance over at Rachel. Her eyes are like saucers.

“There has been a lot of buzz at the craft fair this evening and most of it has been around these two girls, Hannah Smart and Rachel Carter, and their very popular Wishbandz. So, tell me, Rachel, how did you girls come up with the idea?”

Rachel stares blankly at the camera. There is a long, awkward silence.

Maria turns to me. “Hannah, how did you girls come up with the idea?”

“Well,” I say glancing over at Rachel, who looks like she’s about to be sick, “we brainstormed a lot, and then we did some research online.”

“So why bracelets? Whose decision was that?” Maria turns back to Rachel, whose face has lost all of its colour. She awkwardly giggles and points at me.

“So, it was your decision to make bracelets?” Maria asks me.

“No, it was both of our decision. This has been fifty-fifty all the way,” I answer.

“So, tell me a bit more about how you came up with the idea?” Maria prods.

The camera pans back to Rachel, who’s now turning green. She points at me again.

I thought that maybe after the whole business plan presentation thing with our parents, Rachel had finally kicked her fear of public speaking. I guess I was wrong because right now Rachel is officially suffering from the worst bout of stage fright you could ever imagine. I’m pretty sure there’s no way she’s going to be able to answer any of Maria’s questions. I’m going to have to handle this entire interview by myself, which totally doesn’t bother me. Actually, I kind of feel like a movie star on the red carpet being interviewed at the Oscars.

The camera pans back to me.

“Well, I was looking for ideas in the computer lab one day when I found out about these bracelets that they used to make, like, centuries ago. People would weave them for their friends — like old-fashioned friendship bracelets.”

Maria smiles. “Neat!”

“Yeah, but they weren’t just plain old bracelets; they were special.”

“How so?” Maria asks

“If someone made you one, and you accepted it, in exchange you would have to make a solemn promise.”

“Really? What promise?” Maria turns to Rachel, giving her another chance to join the conversation.

Rachel stares ahead blankly and hunches her shoulders. The camera pans back to me.

“Well,” I say, widening my eyes for effect, “you had to promise to keep it on forever … you know, as a sign of total loyalty to your friend.”

“Forever?” Maria’s eyes go wide as well.

“Well, eventually they’d get worn out and just fall off on their own.”

“So why do you call them Wishbandz?” Maria asks.

“Well that’s the most exciting part! When you get your bracelet, you make a wish, and just like back in the olden days, when it falls off, your wish will come true.” I hold up my arm, showing Maria my bracelet. “Rachel made this for me. If I keep it on until it falls off, I’ll get my wish!” I smile. “It’s a powerful spell that’s woven into each and every bracelet.”

“Wow, that’s really neat,” Maria says, smiling. “So Hannah, you’re quite the clever entrepreneur. It seems to me that a lot of this was your idea, right?”

I shake my head. “No … like I said, it was fifty-fifty all the way!”

“And tell me more about the name; did you come up with it?”

“Yeah, but …”

“So, how did you come up with it?” she asks.

“I guess it just came to me when I was in the computer lab.”

“The computer lab where you came up with the idea in the first place, right?”

“Yeah, but …”

“I’m sure your partner, Rachel, did her fair share, but it seems like you’re the brains of this operation,” she remarks, tapping my head, “Miss Smart.”

“No, no …” I stammer.

“So, what made you girls start your business in the first place? Was there a special reason?”

Now here’s a question I like! I look over at Rachel to see if there’s any chance she’s ready to speak, but she’s still in a bug-eyed trance.

“Maria, I can answer that question in two words,” I say, beaming, “Josh … Taylor.”

Maria tilts her head. “Josh Taylor?”

“Well, you see, Maria, Rachel and I are Josh Taylor’s biggest fans, and when we found out that he’s coming to Glen Haven to do a concert, we of course told our parents right away. Well, Maria, I can tell you it was quite a shock when they said there was no way they would be paying for our tickets.”

“It must have been.” Maria nods supportively.

“It’s a responsibility thing.” I nod back.

“So you started the business to earn money for your tickets?”

“That’s exactly what we did!” I answer proudly. “We started our business to earn money for our …”

Suddenly, I notice Scarlett Hastings, her eyes like slits, standing directly behind the cameraman. My hand flies up to my mouth, clamping it shut as I realize what I’ve done. My head is spinning … Scarlett … Rachel’s lie … her aunt … the fake tickets …

Scarlett silently mouths to Rachel, “I-knew-you-were-lying.”

Rachel’s eyes are filling with tears. I can’t believe this is happening, that I made this happen; I took over the entire interview and even worse than that … I’ve ratted us out. I’ve ratted Rachel out.

“Well, thanks, girls. I think we have enough mater­ial to work with here,” Maria says.

“That’s a wrap!” the cameraman adds.

“Hannah, you did super! You’re not only a great little businesswoman, but you’re a natural on camera,” Maria exclaims, giving my shoulders a little squeeze.

Suddenly, a crowd of kids swarms around us, and before I can get free to talk to Rachel, she’s gone.