Chapter Fifteen
Bree
In the past few days, Bree had done a number of things she had never expected to do in her life. She had bathed in a tub full of tomato juice. She had showered using a weird mixture that her mother had made out of baking soda, vinegar, and dishwashing detergent, which smelled almost as bad as the skunk itself. She had spritzed herself with something called “miracle skunk solution” that Marc had ordered on the Internet. She had gone for many, many walks near windy bluffs in the hope that she could “air herself out.”
Still, there was no denying the truth. Bree still reeked of skunk.
Her family members, while supportive, had tried to avoid sharing the same air space with her. Even Veronica, bless his sensitive feline nose, had made himself scarce.
Bree was smelly, and Bree was lonely. But most of all, Bree was sad.
Though she was slightly paranoid as to how others would react to the lingering scent of skunk, she was thrilled to have a reason to get out of the house and interact with actual human beings. Today, she and Chelsea were scheduled to meet with Bianca Salamanca again to discuss the reality of the salamander bridge.
Bree chose a particularly bright outfit—a hot pink shirtdress—figuring that maybe the hue would help distract from her odor. She also wore a couple of extra spritzes of Ariana’s perfume, for good measure.
Once again, the meeting was at Bianca’s office.
Chelsea was already there when Bree arrived.
“Have a seat, have a seat.” Bianca gestured to an overstuffed brown leather club chair identical to the one Chelsea was sitting in. “We have much to discuss.”
Chelsea sniffed the air. “I see you and Malia smell similarly,” she whispered.
“I have some wonderful news!” Bianca held up a small stack of papers. “The estimate for the bridge is ready!”
This was so exciting! They were about to take the next step in saving the salamanders. This was the one thing that was going to make all the effort worth it.
The pages had a very fancy-looking header for the firm of Melvin and Melanie.
Chelsea slowly flipped through the document as Bree looked on.
Blah blah blah plans . . . blah blah blah concept development . . . blah blah blah square footage . . . Where was the price?
Chelsea made her way to the final page and pointed to the bottom of the document. Then she gasped. Bree gasped, too. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head.
It was a very large number. It was so large, it involved a comma and more digits than any amount of money Bree had even dreamed of.
Who knew building an amphibian bridge could be so expensive? The amount Best Babysitters had set aside from their recent jobs wouldn’t come close to covering the cost. Heck, she could babysit dozens more kids and it still might not be enough. This was impossible.
“What on earth . . .” Chelsea stammered. “How are we supposed to afford this? How can anyone, anywhere afford something like this?”
“That’s actually quite reasonable!” said Bianca. “Given the circumstances, Mel and Mel did me a favor and extended a friendly discount.”
“But we can’t . . . And I could never . . .”
Bree had never seen Chelsea at such a loss for words.
Then Chelsea did the unexpected: She turned on Bree. “I told you we needed to be thinking bigger.”
“What are you talking about? All of this is because of you!” Bree was furious. “The fancy bridge and the fancy ideas and the fancy price tag. You’ve turned this into some sort of competition to impress everyone in town instead of caring about the actual creatures you’re supposed to be saving.”
“Oh, please.” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “If it were up to you, you’d be sitting on the side of the road selling brownies and manually scooping up lizards for all eternity.”
“What are you two talking about?” Bianca was flabbergasted. “Is this amateur hour? Have you lost sight of what’s important here? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a difference. This is the time to quit complaining, band together, and work.”
Both girls fell silent.
“Sometimes you have to hold your nose—quite literally, in this case, as it really smells like skunk in here—and get stuff done.” Bianca paced back and forth behind her desk. “Now, I don’t want to hear another negative word out of either of you. And I do very strongly encourage you to accept the terms of this proposal. You can find a way to build this bridge. The life of every salamander in Playa del Mar depends on it.”
Bree felt like she was in one of those movie scenes where the hero gets a pep talk from their mentor before they go off to save the world. The thing was, after the pep talk, you had to go save the world, and that was a lot of pressure.
“All right! Well, this has been a most productive meeting, but I have to get ready for office hours,” said Bianca, signaling that Chelsea and Bree should make their exit.
“Thank you so much for all your help,” Chelsea groveled. “You are so incredibly inspiring and we cannot tell you how much this means to us.”
“Yes, thank you,” Bree echoed, though her words came out sounding less dramatic than Chelsea’s.
As soon as they reached the stairs outside Bianca’s office, Chelsea’s entire demeanor changed.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, in a clipped tone. “We need to act strategically.”
“We do,” Bree agreed.
“Oh my goodness, there is so much to do. I’m going to go reach out to everyone I can! I’m going to call Ramona and all my connections at the Junior Future Leaders of America organization and everyone in my contact list!” Chelsea was speaking so fast she was practically vibrating. “You should work on brainstorming, too, and we can meet to discuss what we come up with! We have to act fast.” And with that, she was off.
Bree walked across campus, Bianca’s words still ringing in her head. She thought about what Bianca had said about working with people you don’t like, and how that can sometimes be worth it to help the greater good. And that’s when Bree had an idea.
The idea was either good or very, very bad. But she had a sneaking suspicion it might be her best idea yet. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends.
* * *
“Oh, sweet universe, I’ve missed you!” said Malia, doing a spirited two-step along the tiled pathway that surrounded the mall’s fabled food court. “Even though you have been oh-so-challenging, it is nice to be out in public again.”
After the meeting with Bianca, Bree had sent a text to the group requesting a meeting.
It was the group’s first public outing since the skunk incident. Though the scent hadn’t totally faded, it had reached a point where it was somewhat acceptable for them to be in the presence of others. So, after a very long weekend spent in confinement, they decided to meet at the mall, where they could spend some time walking and browsing in addition to discussing business. Being around other humans (not to mention food and things that were available for purchase) seemed too good to be true.
Yet as they walked around the mall, Bree noticed that wherever they passed, strangers looked around, as if to see where the weird smell was coming from. One woman even followed them past five whole shops, making curious expressions and a few times even opening her mouth like she wanted to say something. But of course, no one was going to straight up ask them about it. It was a bit like when someone smells a fart and no one is willing to place the blame.
“I still can’t believe this happened to us,” said Malia, as one woman gave them a sidelong glance. “Of all the horrible babysitting gigs, the skunk incident had to be the worst.”
Dot sighed. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m just about done. I’m not sure I can do it again.”
“What?” said Bree.
“I mean, not go to the mall. I want to do that again. I just don’t know if I have it in me anymore to keep fighting. Like, what’s the point? We try so hard and then we get skunked. Do
we even want to do this anymore?”
“I hear you,” Malia agreed. “I really do.”
“Wait! No.” Bree was indignant, not to mention a little surprised, to hear Malia’s defeat. She wasn’t ready to give up. Not on the salamanders, not on the fund-raiser, not on babysitting. Bree had come up with a plan.
She stopped in front of the toy store, which had brought her so much joy throughout her life. It seemed like the perfect place to say what she was about to say.
“I know that things have been a little tough lately. Okay, more than a little tough. Honestly, kind of terrible. We don’t even have Zelda as a client anymore, and those weird little gremlins are all we have left. We’re sad, we’re tired, and we smell like skunk. But I know we can bounce back!”
Her friends just blinked at her.
“It may feel like the three of us can’t possibly continue to do this anymore, but I have a plan where we wouldn’t have to. Or, like, we would have to, but we could call in our secret weapon.”
“Our secret weapon?” Dot looked more confused than ever.
“Zelda,” said Bree.
“But we got fired from watching Zelda,” said Malia.
“Not babysitting Zelda. Hiring Zelda. To help with the terrible trio.”
Bree thought it was kind of a genius idea, and she hoped her friends would agree.
“Think about it,” she urged. “Who understands the mind of a bully better than Zelda? No one. I bet she can outprank those pranksters like nobody else.”
Dot frowned. “But what if they team up against us?”
“We’d have to make it worth her while not to. She’s not going to be a sitter. She’ll just be giving us advice. Like an evil genius for hire.”
Dot looked intrigued. “It’s certainly worth a try.”
“We literally have nothing left to lose,” agreed Malia.
“Great!” said Bree. “I’m glad you guys are on board with this, because I already texted her. She’s meeting us in the food court in an hour.”
Chapter Sixteen
Malia
After a beautiful hour of mall roaming—culminating in zero purchases and just as many Connor Kelly sightings—the girls made their way over to the food court for the fated meeting. Right in front of Potato Jamboree, Zelda, dressed in a floral embroidered jacket Malia recognized from her mom’s epic closet, was already waiting at a table.
Zelda sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
“What smell?” said Malia, innocently.
“Do you guys really not smell that?” Zelda wrinkled her nose.
“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Bree, unconvincingly.
“It’s like . . .” Zelda stopped and sniffed again. “Does somebody have eggs in their purse?”
“No,” said Dot.
“I don’t even like eggs,” said Bree.
“I don’t even like purses,” said Malia.
“You guys are weird.” Zelda rolled her eyes. “So why did you want me to meet you?”
“Because we have a proposition for you,” said Malia.
“No,” said Zelda. “My mom will never hire you back. It took hours to get the closet back in proper order, and she said one of her favorite lipsticks got smushed into a funny shape. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you.” She smirked triumphantly.
“It’s not about that,” said Bree. “We don’t want to babysit you. Or be your friend. Or hang out with you—”
“You know what Bree means,” Malia cut in, before Bree could describe any of the other activities they had no interest in sharing with Zelda. Their dislike was obviously mutual at this point, but there was still no sense in insulting her right before their big offer.
“One of our regular jobs is to babysit these three kindergarten boys,” Dot explained. “And they can be a bit challenging.”
“They’re the worst!” said Bree. “Honestly the worst. Any bad thing you can imagine, they’ve probably done. Or are in the course of doing right now.”
Way to sell it, Bree, Malia thought.
“And how is this my problem?” asked Zelda.
“The boys are notorious pranksters, and we want to outsmart them at their own game,” said Malia. “If there’s anyone who can help us, it’s you.”
Zelda narrowed her eyes.
“Let me get this straight. You want me to help you?” She considered this for a second. “Why on earth would I do that? It’s pretty clear how I feel about you. And we all know I’m not really the babysitting type.”
Malia took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be an easy sell. If they wanted to get anywhere, they would have to resort to flattery.
“Look, Zelda. We know you’re a genius,” she said. “Through the years, we may not have always been on the most enjoyable side of your genius, but anyone would have to admit that you’re clever enough to come up with all sorts of plans that other people wouldn’t have the ability to dream up.”
Zelda seemed intrigued. “Go on,” she said.
“Well, these little boys are sharp. Terrible, but sharp. And it’s going to take a mind that’s even better—a skilled expert—to outsmart them.”
“And what’s in it for me, exactly?”
“A cut of the revenue,” said Dot.
“You wouldn’t technically be babysitting, since we would be there, too. You’d really be operating on more of a consultancy basis,” said Malia. She didn’t know exactly what “consultancy” meant, but Ramona used the word a lot and it always sounded good.
“Okay,” said Zelda. “How much are we talking?”
“We can give you a third.” Malia paused to let that sink in.
Zelda did not look impressed.
“Which is more than we would offer to anyone else in this scenario,” Malia added. “We’ll handle the actual child wrangling. You’ll just give us your advice. Really, this is an excellent deal for you. After we split our share of the profit, you’d be making more than we would! We’re willing to go so high because we think you’re worth it.”
Malia felt good about her negotiation skills. She had said all the right things and presented an offer that she thought seemed too good to pass up. Still, Zelda looked less than thrilled.
“I think I should be entitled to a majority of the wages for any job where my skills are that integral,” she said.
“I’m sorry, WHAT?” said Malia. What was wrong with this person? What made her think she was entitled to most of the money? What did “integral” even mean? She should have known better than to try to do business with someone as unreasonable as Zelda.
Zelda blinked. “I won’t go lower than half.”
“Half?” Bree cut in. “Who do you think you are?”
Zelda was unfazed. “Take it or leave it.”
“Fine,” said Malia.
“What?” said Dot.
It was true that splitting their revenue with Zelda had not been part of the plan. But it wasn’t forever. They were out of options. And desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Let’s put those pranksters in their places,” Zelda said, extending her hand.
Malia shook it. “We’re excited to be in business with you,” she said. She hoped the more she repeated it to herself, the more it might become true.
Zelda sniffed the air one last time.
“I swear, though, something really does smell funny.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dot
As the Best Babysitters plus their new consultant walked up to the Morris kids’ house, it felt like they were a band of superheroes going to meet their nemesis. But secretly, Dot was a little excited. The time had come for Zelda to prove herself.
She couldn’t wait to see how things would go down. Dot secretly hoped the boys would bring their collective A game, because if Zelda wanted half the wages, she had better work for them. And the scene when they arrived at the three terrors’ house did not disappoint. Chase was wearing a ninja costume that was se
veral sizes too big. Clark had chocolate smeared all over his face. Smith was panting, though she knew not why. It was probably better that way.
“Guys, this is our friend Zelda, who is going to be hanging out with us today,” said Malia, like a kindergarten teacher opening up the floor for show-and-tell.
“I DON’T LIKE YOU,” said Smith, though it wasn’t clear to whom he was referring.
“Zelda is a weird name!” said Clark.
“Zelda is a video game,” added Chase.
“WHY IS YOUR HAIR ORANGE?” asked Smith, at a volume that seemed even louder than usual.
Zelda, bless her troublemaking soul, didn’t bat an eyelash. Instead, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out an airhorn—the kind people use at basketball games. And then she blasted Smith right in the face. It was a tactic that had never been used in these parts before. But this was a particularly dire moment in Best Babysitters history, so they were willing to roll with it.
“If you think that was loud, I’ll show you loud,” Zelda said.
Smith was so shocked, he didn’t even have a comeback.
“Are you a referee?” asked Clark.
“Something like that,” said Zelda. “I’m like a referee and a principal and a police officer and a witch. All in one.”
“Wow,” said Chase, “a witch.”
“Can you fly?” asked Clark. “Do you have powers?”
“Yeah,” said Zelda. “I know everything you’re thinking.”
Chase looked terrified.
“PROVE IT!” yelled Smith.
Zelda looked him square in the eye.
“I know about the water balloons,” she said simply.
Smith looked shocked. Zelda’s words had clearly struck a chord. Who knew if it was because Zelda had accurately read his mind or it was just a safe bet that all monster kids had some evil plan involving water balloons? Either way, Smith was a believer. Heck, at this point, even Dot was becoming a believer. She had no choice but to admit that Zelda’s skills were impressive.
Miss Impossible Page 9
