Miss Impossible

by Caroline Cala

“VERONICAAAAAAAA!” yelled Bree, the moment her sparkly heel hit the ground. She took off running, sprinting toward the parking lot. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got there. Was it okay to hug Veronica? Was it okay to cry tears of joy onto the shoulder of her puffer coat? Bree hoped she didn’t look like a freak, but she was sure this sort of thing must happen to Veronica all the time.

  “THANK YOU FOR ANSWERING MY NOTE!” Bree called.

  But instead of recognition, Veronica looked at her with a mix of confusion and terror.

  “IT’S ME, BREE!” she yelled.

  Still nothing.

  “I’m the one who named my cat after you,” she said, quieter this time, since she had finally reached them.

  Veronica turned to the serious suit lady for help.

  “This is the girl,” the suit lady said, angling her head at Bree.

  “Ohhhh!” said Veronica, very quietly. She offered Bree a huge thumbs up and then clapped her hands.

  “I’m Becky, Veronica’s manager,” the suit lady said, extending a hand. “Thank you so much for inviting Veronica to participate in this event. As an animal activist, she’s so thrilled to be here.”

  Veronica nodded very enthusiastically.

  “Veronica can’t speak much, because she’s resting her voice before the performance,” Becky explained, reading Bree’s expression. “But I can assure you that she’s very glad to be here. Also, I have to insist that Veronica can perform only two songs today. We have music at the ready, but she’s traveling without her backup dancers, so it will be a very pared-down version of the usual show.”

  “Oh! That’s fine,” said Bree. “Anything she does is more than perfect.”

  Becky nodded once. She acted more like a robot than a human. “All right. Let’s get this show rolling, then, shall we?”

  The bodyguard put one hand protectively on Veronica’s back. “Which way to the stage?” he said, in an impossibly deep voice.

  Bree pointed at the little raised platform at the end of the soccer field. Becky turned on one heel and began walking purposefully down the field, with the rest of Team Veronica close behind her.

  Veronica paused at the side of the stage, while a member of her entourage checked to make sure the microphone was functioning. “Sound check! One, two, one, two! Check!” The microphone was, indeed, working. The show was about to begin.

  As Veronica stepped up to the mike, the crowd surged and swarmed around the stage, growing ever larger. The excitement (and also the confusion) was palpable. Shrieks and screams rang out through the air, and a couple of students even fainted. Was Veronica really live in their small town? And at their school, no less?

  The whole scene was easily one of the strangest things Bree had ever seen—Veronica, live, in Playa del Mar. And it was all because of her.

  Malia looked amazed as she patted Bree on the back. “Well, kid, you’ve really done it. This is unlike anything that’s ever happened at this school. Maybe in this town.”

  “Um, hi, Playa del Mar,” said Veronica, speaking into the microphone. She pronounced it “Playa del Mare,” but that was okay. She was Veronica, and she could do whatever she wanted. “I’m excited to be here today. We’re about to sing about some lizards. But before we get down to it, I want to give a very special shout-out to the girl who named her cat after me.”

  Bree nearly fainted.

  “Without her, I wouldn’t be here today and, like, neither would the lizards. So thank you for caring, Bree.”

  A cheer went up from the crowd.

  The music came blaring from the speakers that lined the field. It was the single “Selfie to my Soul,” but as Veronica started singing, it became clear that this was a special version. A very special version, unlike anything that had ever been recorded.

  “Seflie-selfie-selfie-mander,” Veronica sang. “You’re the lizard of my heart.”

  “Did she just say ‘selfie-mander’?” Dot looked horrified. “WHAT is a selfie-mander?”

  “Maybe it’s, like, a selfie you take, while holding a salamander,” Bree explained.

  “This song doesn’t really make sense,” Malia confirmed.

  “Sala-sala-mander-mander, love whenever we’re together. Sort of pretty, sort of slimy, in the dirt so grimy-grimy.”

  “I think she’s making it up as she goes along.” Dot shook her head.

  Indeed, it seemed like Veronica was singing in a language all her own. And it was magnificent. She had shown up, and that alone was incredible. Seeing her getting in the spirit in this way was more than Bree had ever dreamed of. All around, everyone was dancing, caught up in the fever of Veronica, live, in Playa del Mar. She had never seen her peers so excited about anything as they were right now, about Veronica. (And also about salamanders, obvi.)

  “It’s beautiful,” said Bree. Because it was.

  By the end of Veronica’s performance, the makeshift lizard bank was overflowing with donations, and a line of people had formed to add even more. Bree didn’t even have to count them to know they had more than they needed to build the salamanders a bridge to the future.

  Now there was just one thing left to attend to.

  Chelsea, dressed in jeans and a white eyelet top, meandered slowly over to the group.

  “This is quite a turnout!” she said. “It seriously might be the most exciting thing that’s ever happened on school property.” She seemed happy, maybe even a little bit proud, of the surrounding event. Bree was confused. Did Chelsea actually think she was responsible for it? Did she just not care?

  “I can’t believe you had the nerve to show up here,” spat Malia.

  “I suppose you’re going to try to take credit for this, too?” Dot asked.

  With her friends there for backup, Bree knew it was time to speak up. “You know, I was really upset with what you did,” she said, looking Chelsea in her huge brown eyes. “Not just because I thought you were better than that. But because I thought you cared about the salamanders.”

  Chelsea looked wounded.

  “I don’t need anyone to think I’m a hero,” Bree continued. “I don’t care about anyone getting credit, whether it’s me or not. But I can’t believe that you would go out of your way to get the glory when there is something as serious as animal welfare at stake!”

  She expected Chelsea to argue with her, or counter her with a lot of words Bree didn’t understand. But all she said was, “You’re right.” Bree was shocked.

  “Of COURSE she’s right,” Malia scoffed.

  “You know that I’m really, really lucky. I’m great at school, I excel at extracurriculars, I’m likely going to have my choice of whatever college I want,” Chelsea continued. “But if I’m being honest, I’ve always been sort of jealous of what you guys have.”

  “What do you mean?” Bree asked.

  “Not your business, per se. I mean, when I started the Seaside Sitters, we took over all your business in about five minutes.”

  “Oh my god, Chelsea, do not get me started.” Malia held up her hands in a sign of disgust.

  “My point is more like, you guys are so . . . close.”

  “I mean, yeah, because we’re best friends,” said Malia.

  “Yes, I know, and I have friends, too, obviously.” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I just admire how you guys go after things because you really care about them. You go after things you’re passionate about, and that is a rare quality.”

  “Thank you,” Bree said.

  Bree couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad for Chelsea. She was still kind of slimy, and definitely not to be trusted, but she had done some good after all. She had reminded Bree just how wonderful her friendships were.

  “Also, Veronica totally saved the day!” said Chelsea. “That’s a bigger name than even Ramona could guarantee.” Bree beamed. But just when Bree thought that Chelsea had shown her goodness, Chelsea opened her mouth again. “I mean, what were the odds of that? Total luck!” Chelsea said, with a sinister laugh. Then sh
e turned and walked off.

  “Well,” said Malia. “Some things never change.”

  “That’s true,” said Bree. “But at least other things do.”

  Bree looked around at the scene unfolding on the field—the people, the magic, and the money they had raised. It all felt a little bittersweet. Once the bridge was done, her work here would be done as well. The salamanders wouldn’t need her to usher them to safety. But she would know that she had made a difference. And her work, like her memories of this day, would live on.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Malia

  Once again, Malia found herself reflecting on the nature of change. Sometimes, things could change dramatically, seemingly overnight. In a short amount of time, their business had all but disappeared, and then everything had righted itself—thanks to Zelda—in a matter of days.

  Other times, Malia thought, checking her phone for what must have been the bazillionth time, barely anything changed. Connor Kelly still hadn’t texted her. She was starting to accept that he never would.

  “Is everything okay?” Bree asked.

  “Yeah! Does it seem like something is wrong?” Malia said unconvincingly.

  “You just keep looking at your phone.”

  “Oh! I’m just checking my notes before the ceremony,” Malia lied. It wasn’t that she wasn’t comfortable sharing her rejection with her friend. Her ego simply wouldn’t let her speak the words. For now, the best she could do was to focus on the task at hand: Zelda’s official hiring ceremony.

  Not only had Zelda become their friend, she was becoming the fourth member of Best Babysitters. It was the least they could do after Zelda had single-handedly solved the French au pair problem and proven herself the most gifted babysitter the world had ever known. No one could anticipate a prank better than Zelda, and she commanded respect from pretty much everyone she encountered.

  “Since we couldn’t get pain au chocolat for the occasion, I made cupcakes!” Bree exclaimed, taking a large piece of aluminum foil off a giant cupcake tray. In typical Bree fashion, the cupcakes were absolutely covered in colorful rainbow sprinkles. They appeared to be more sprinkle than cupcake.

  “Wow!” said Dot, then added, “Are you sure that much decoration is edible?”

  “I’m honored,” said Zelda.

  “And we are thrilled to have you!” said Malia. “On this momentous occasion, I’d like to give a little speech.” She cleared her throat and looked at the notes she’d prepared on her phone. “I’ve been thinking a lot about destiny.”

  “Oh boy,” groaned Dot.

  “Or rather, I’ve been thinking about how destiny is something we create for ourselves.” Malia used to be a big believer in fate. There were certain moments—like meeting her friends, or getting the idea to form Best Babysitters—that felt meant to be. But now, after nothing had happened with Connor, she was starting to change her tune. “I admire you, Zelda, for the way you’ve so obviously taken fate into your own hands over these past few weeks. Over the years, you’ve really proven yourself to be a person who, uh, makes things happen. And now that you’re focusing on making good things happen, well, I don’t think anyone will be able to stop you. You are truly a force to be reckoned with. So congratulations! And welcome aboard.”

  The girls each plucked a sprinkle-covered cupcake from the tray and held them up to one another’s like champagne glasses.

  “I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you guys cheers-ing with cupcakes like a bunch of tryhards,” said Zelda. “But I mean that in the best way possible.”

  It was the truth, thought Malia. Who would have thought that Zelda—the world’s weirdest babysitting charge—would have made such a wonderful sitter herself? But if seventh grade had taught Malia anything so far, it was that the world was full of surprises.

  There was no better moment for a surprise to pop up on Malia’s phone.

  When she saw what it said, she screamed a little. It was a name that had never appeared on her screen before: Connor.

  Malia practically hyperventilated. Connor Kelly had remembered that her number lived in his phone, and then—miracle of miracles—he had actually used it. Her friends looked at her quizzically. Malia held up her phone, where the lone message was beckoning her to read it.

  “Oh my goodness!” said Bree.

  “Whoa. You guys are moving to actual technological communications?” said Dot. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

  “So? What did he say?” asked Zelda.

  “What do I do?” Malia said.

  “Read it!” Zelda commanded.

  Malia opened the message, fingers trembling. She suddenly grew nervous. What if he had sent her a message by accident? What if it was actually a group text? What if he was just asking her to clarify a homework assignment or something?

  But when she opened the message, she was relieved to see it was just for her, and it was everything she’d ever hoped for.

  Hey.

  It was absolutely perfect.

  Hey, Malia wrote back.

  In a world full of complications, sometimes the simple things really were the best.

  Visit hmhbooks.com to find all of the books in the Best Babysitters Ever series.

  About the Author

  CAROLINE CALA is a writer and editor residing in Brooklyn. She has worked as a book editor and as a ghostwriter on a number of books by notable people. Her work has appeared in Vogue, Elle, Refinery29, and others.

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