The Good, the Bad, and the Bossy

by Caroline Cala

  Not only were they not close enough to the stage to touch Veronica, they could barely see the stage. At best, Veronica would look like a tiny dot. Thank goodness they had at least gotten a glimpse at her earlier.

  “WHERE is Connor?” Malia repeated. She had worked really hard for these tickets. She had worked really hard for this dream. She was not letting it go down as a story about a crowded night with some chicken fingers.

  “This chicken finger is so good,” said Dot.

  At least someone was happy.

  The opening band was just leaving the stage. After a few moments, the lights in the auditorium went completely black. The audience, Bree in particular, gave an excited scream.

  The first few notes of the first song sounded. Malia immediately recognized it as “Selfie to My Soul,” arguably Veronica’s biggest hit. The crowd went wild.

  In a huge flash, the spotlights came on at once, and Veronica herself appeared in the middle of the stage. She was dressed entirely in sequins. Bree looked like she might pass out.

  The crowd danced wildly along with the song, which made it harder for Malia to see people’s faces. Specifically Connor’s.

  “Take a selfie please. Say I’m everything,” sang Dot. “Make a memory, for eternity . . .”

  “I’m sorry, do you know ALL THE WORDS?” Malia couldn’t believe it. “You’re a closet fan!” she exclaimed.

  “I am not!” Dot protested.

  “You are. You love Veronica!” Malia had known it all along.

  Dot was less than amused.

  “Everyone knows the words to this song, Malia,” Dot grumbled. “They play it everywhere like every five minutes. That hardly makes me a fan.” Still, she continued singing along.

  “VERONICAAAAAAAA! I LOVE YOU!” Bree yelled. “YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PERSON! I’M THE ONE WHO NAMED MY CAT AFTER YOU!”

  Finally, Malia saw him: her own personal version of the world’s biggest superstar.

  “There he is!” Malia pointed upward, where Connor Kelly was not quite dancing in a skybox. He was awkwardly bopping to and fro with a bunch of boys she recognized from school.

  And also Sage.

  “We have to go up there,” Malia said, determination coloring her voice.

  “Seriously?” said Dot. “You want to go up to that crowded box where it will be way too loud to talk to Connor anyway?” She squinted up at the box. Suddenly, her expression changed. “Wait a second. Is that Pigeon?”

  “See? We have to get to that box!”

  “Pigeon has friends?” Dot said, genuinely perplexed. “But she just moved here, and she isn’t nice.”

  “I LOVE YOU, VERONICA!” Bree yelled.

  “How does she have friends?” Dot asked.

  “Let’s go!” Malia screamed over the roar of the crowd.

  The girls battled their way through the bopping concertgoers and up to the box containing Connor, Pigeon, and Sage. The sight of the satellite sitters had put a dark cloud over what was meant to be a very joyous occasion.

  Sage’s face lit up as soon as they entered the box. “So fun to see you here!” she yelled. Malia couldn’t help but notice that Sage was dancing a little too close to Connor for Malia’s comfort. “Did we ALL buy tickets with our babysitting money? How amazing is this?”

  “Amazing,” Malia said, but what she really meant was, “Terrible.”

  “How annoying is this?” Malia yell-whispered into Dot’s ear.

  “This can’t continue,” said Dot, who was eyeing Pigeon talking up a group of kids from school.

  Pigeon’s outfit was also black, but it was cooler somehow. Her button-down shirt had a complicated stud pattern all over the back, and her black jeans were perfectly fitted and ripped at the knees in just the right way. Even her sneakers looked dirty in an appealing way. Malia suddenly understood why Dot found her so irritating. She looked just like Dot, with a style upgrade.

  “Hi, Connor!” said Malia. This was her moment. She was finally talking to Connor, at the concert. But the box was so crowded and loud that he just waved at her, with seven people standing in between them.

  “Oh my god, you guys! It’s my favorite song,” said Bree.

  “Which song is this?” said Dot.

  “It’s called ‘Goodest Goodbye,’ ” said Malia. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

  “Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye,” sang Bree. “It’s time to say the goodest goodbye . . .”

  Yes, thought Malia. It was time to say goodbye . . . to the satellite sitters. It was time to take back their babysitting business and their lives. Her big idea had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Now she just needed a bigger idea to somehow get them out of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Dot

  When Dot had agreed to host a sleepover at her house after the Veronica concert, she hadn’t been aware that her mother would be hosting a full moon circle in the living room. As the girls opened the front door to the bungalow, they were surprised to discover twelve adults, all dressed in some version of flowing caftans, sitting in a circle on the floor.

  Dot’s mom sat in the center of the circle, perched atop a meditation cushion. Her frizzy red hair was even larger than usual, forming a voluminous halo that jutted out nearly a foot around her. She was playing her new favorite thing, a singing bowl—essentially a large glass bowl—while a man named Lyon (a regular at these gatherings) walked slowly around the perimeter of the room, waving a bundle of burning sage.

  Oy, thought Dot.

  Dot tried to walk quietly, hoping that she and her friends could make it back to her room unscathed. By now, her friends were used to Dot’s mother’s antics, but it never made it less embarrassing.

  Unfortunately, before they were safely out of the living room, Malia tripped on the fringe of a very fringed carpet, causing her to stumble a bit. The moon worshippers looked up.

  “Dot!” said her mother, the sounds of the singing bowl still reverberating in the air.

  “Oh, hi there! We’re just headed back to my room,” said Dot. “Don’t let us disturb you.”

  “Would you like to join us?” asked Lyon. Sage smoke wafted through the air around him, while no one said anything.

  “Oh, that’s so nice of you!” said Bree.

  “But we really have to get going,” added Dot.

  “Official club business and all,” added Malia.

  “All right, then. You girls enjoy!” Dot’s mom trilled as they scooted out of the living room as quickly as possible.

  “Sorry about that,” said Dot, closing her bedroom door behind her. The air inside had become tinged with sage smoke, and the singing bowl could still be heard echoing down the hall.

  “Your mom’s friends seem so fun,” said Bree.

  “They’re fun the way a safari is fun,” said Dot. “Best observed from a safe distance.”

  Malia nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “You guys, that was the most magical night!” Bree said, spinning in a dizzy circle and flopping back onto Dot’s bed.

  “Magical?” Malia scoffed. “That was depressing.”

  “Well, it was a mix of things,” said Dot. “I think the word is ‘conflicted.’ ”

  “The satellite sitters are ruining everything!” Malia said as the sounds of some kind of chanting started up in the living room. “Tonight we experienced two of the most wonderful things on the planet—Veronica and Connor Kelly—at the same time. And it was still a messed-up experience.”

  “What would Veronica do?” Bree asked. “Person Veronica, I mean.”

  “Person Veronica would never get herself into this situation in the first place,” Dot said. “I mean, at least that’s how I imagine her.”

  “So what do we do?” Malia said.

  “Can’t we just fire them?” Bree asked. “Isn’t that what unhappy bosses do?”

  “No, because they’re in too deep,” Dot grumbled. “They’ve already taken all of our connections.”

  “Eve
n our family members,” added Bree.

  “Yeah, and our clients like them a little too much. If we cut ties, the families could just hire them independently, and then they’d keep ALL the fees,” Malia explained.

  “Oh,” said Bree. “That would be bad.”

  “We have to drive them out of babysitting altogether!” Malia said.

  “But how do we do that?” asked Bree.

  “We make their lives miserable,” Malia said. “We show them how annoying babysitting can be, and also how nice life is without babysitting. And we start tomorrow.”

  “But Pigeon excels at babysitting,” said Dot angrily. “The same way she excels at everything.”

  “Not for long,” said Malia. “We’re about to show them who’s boss.”

  “Good, good, good goodbye,” sang Bree.

  “It’s time to say the goodest goodbye,” Malia chimed in.

  “I’m better off without you, so now I can pursue my truth,” Bree and Malia sang together. Dot was slightly bopping her head along with them but wasn’t chiming in.

  “Oh COME ON, it’s obvious you’re a fan!” Malia said.

  Dot smiled. She had tried so hard to hide it, but the jig was up. She had been found out.

  “Good, good, good goodbye!” all three of them sang.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bree

  “Where’s the thing?” shouted Bree.

  “Uhhhhhh, what thing?” asked Brody. He was genuinely perplexed.

  “Brody. The thing! Where is it?” yelled Bree.

  “Um, I’ll try to find it,” he said, and scurried off down the stairs.

  “And take Veronica with you!” yelled Bree. Veronica was already following Brody before Bree had said anything, so she figured she might as well make it part of the command.

  Bree turned to Malia. “Was that right?” she asked.

  “That was good, but don’t be afraid to be even angrier for no reason,” coached Malia. “Like, if he returns without the thing, it’s fine to go completely berserk.”

  “But that’s so mean and crazy,” said Bree. Yes, she wanted Brody to quit so he could leave Bree and her family alone. But he was still a nice person. Bree felt terrible torturing him this way.

  Malia just looked at her. “That’s the point.”

  Their only hope was to turn the satellite sitters against babysitting altogether. But sine Bree could be kind of a softie, Malia and Dot had come over to provide Bree with some backup. Since Malia had the most experience with horrible bosses, she was offering her expert advice.

  As predicted, a few moments later, Brody poked his head in the bedroom door.

  “I’m soooooo sorry, but I can’t find the thing,” he said. He stepped fully into the room, with Veronica at his ankles. “To be honest, I’m still not sure I know what the thing is.”

  “Are you still doing THAT?” said Malia. “We found the thing ages ago. Now we need you to go to the kitchen and count everything in the fridge and then everything in the freezer and then everything in the pantry and come back and tell us how many items are in each place. And do it as soon as possible.”

  “Okaaaaaay,” said Brody in his lilting drawl. “But, um, why?”

  “Because it’s important!” said Malia. “And we need it done quickly. No time for questions!”

  “All right,” said Brody, and left the room.

  Brody never outwardly showed any anxiety. He just moved slowly and methodically through his life, and ultimately got stuff done. Aside from the part where he stole her family, he was still a very good hire.

  “What if this doesn’t work?” asked Dot.

  “Of course it will work, what kind of lunatic would stay in a job where they get yelled at all the time?” asked Malia.

  “Um, you?” asked Bree.

  “That’s different. That’s because my sister is the devil and my mom won’t let me quit.” Malia sighed. “As far as we know, Brody is just doing this for fun. As soon as we make it not fun, he will leave us.”

  “Maybe we should check on Bailey,” said Bree, reasoning that doing something helpful would make her feel slightly better about tormenting Brody.

  “He’s watching a movie,” said Dot.

  “So? We can still see how he’s doing,” Bree pushed.

  The girls went downstairs to find that Bailey was, indeed, watching a movie. The movie was about a very evil clown (Bree’s actual nightmare), and he was extremely engrossed in it. He had zero interest in even saying hello to them.

  With that, the girls headed to the kitchen to load more demands on Brody.

  “Are you done counting?” yelled Malia.

  “What’s taking so long?” added Dot.

  They entered the kitchen to find the pantry door open, with poor Brody rummaging around inside.

  “There are forty-three things in the fridge, seventeen things in the freezer, and seventy-two things in the pantry,” he called.

  Bree trusted that he was capable of counting, but she opened the refrigerator door just to take a peek. She gasped. Brody had not only counted the contents of the fridge; he had cleaned and organized it as well. Bree never thought she could think such a thing about a kitchen appliance, but the fridge looked beautiful.

  What? Malia mouthed, seeing Bree’s reaction.

  He’s a wizard, Bree mouthed back.

  Bree peeked into the pantry. Veronica was curled sweetly near Brody’s feet, napping. It was in that moment Bree realized she had never seen Veronica nap before. Again, she was forced to think that Brody was some kind of magic being.

  Brody was in the process of organizing every item in the pantry first by category and then by color. The pantry was well on its way to being the most gorgeous storage facility Bree had ever seen.

  “Wow,” Bree said. “We only needed you to count the items, not make it look like a snack museum.”

  “Oh, it only takes a second and, like, makes such a big difference. You know?” Brody said.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” she asked.

  Brody just shrugged.

  What a mysterious person, thought Bree. She realized that even though he was in the process of taking over her home and her family, she actually knew very little about him.

  Bree hurried out of the kitchen, motioning for her friends to join her.

  “What do we do?” she asked. “He’s not quitting. He’s going above and beyond.”

  “Maybe he should go work for Ramona,” said Malia.

  “This is a very unexpected turn of events,” said Dot.

  “Maybe I should just give up,” said Bree. “He’s too good. He’s better at everything.”

  “No,” said Malia. “Never give up. We just need to change tactics.”

  Bree wasn’t so sure. Maybe she could learn to adjust to life with her new brother Brody. In exchange for relinquishing her place in her family, she would at least get a calm cat and very clean cabinets. She tried to imagine this for a moment, but it still made her sad.

  No, Bree thought, shaking her head. That would never do. After all, what good were clean cabinets if you didn’t have a family to enjoy their contents with? What good was a calm cat if it was practically the only mammal who ever paid attention to you?

  There was only one way forward. Brody had to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Malia

  Malia had her eyes on the prize.

  But someone was standing in the way of that prize, and that person was Sage.

  Malia was loitering at her locker, pretending to get ready for homeroom, but really, she was spying on Sage. Normally, Malia liked to spend her mornings watching for Connor, as it was the most positive way to start the day. But lately, even that beloved pastime had felt less enjoyable, because Sage was always standing in her eye line, talking to some boy.

  Malia watched as Sage hung her jacket up in her locker. As usual, boys surrounded her, like ants on a crumb. How did she manage to be so sociable so early in the morning? Mal
ia hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. She barely knew what her own name was, and yet, there was Sage, talking to, like, seven boys at once. It was almost a talent.

  Malia saw Bree coming down the hallway and waved her over.

  “Let’s go talk to Sage,” Malia said. “It’s time to put our plan in action.”

  “Okay!” said Bree, then immediately followed it up with, “What plan?”

  “The plan where we somehow convince her to give up baby­sitting,” said Malia.

  “Oh, right.”

  “We’ll just go over there and act like we have to talk about official babysitting business,” said Malia, leading the way. “And then I’ll make her realize she needs to quit.”

  “Sounds good!” Bree said, following behind.

  Malia leaned next to Sage’s open locker, causing a couple of the surrounding boys to clear away.

  “Oh, hi, Sage,” Malia said casually, as though she hadn’t come over with the express purpose of talking to her.

  “Hi, guys! How’s it going?”

  “We wanted to talk to you about some very official babysitting business,” said Bree.

  “Stealth,” whispered Malia under her breath. She looked down the hallway, where Connor was taking a drink from the water fountain. “Oh man,” she said. “Isn’t it so annoying how Connor Kelly always wears a different version of, like, the exact same thing every single day?” She motioned toward Connor, who was rummaging in his own locker.

  As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she felt like a traitor. In truth, Malia loved that Connor wore the same thing—a solid crew-neck T-shirt and perfectly fitting jeans—every day. She thought it pointed to a man who was consistent, a seventh-­grader who knew who he was and what he liked at a precociously early age. His uniform also made it easy for Malia to daydream about him, as his appearance was always consistent.

  “Um, I’ve never really thought about it,” said Sage. “In fact, I hadn’t really noticed before.”

  LIES! thought Malia.

  “I mean, we wear the same thing almost every day, too,” said Sage, pointing to her own striped T-shirt.