I laughed. “Does Heather even have a dark side?”
Brooke leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “I’ll bet it involves texting in all caps. And not saying thank you!”
The rest of us laughed, including Heather. Of our group, she was the most level-headed person, and more likely to stop a fight than start one.
“Hey, I can be tough when I need to be,” she assured us. “Just tell me I can only have one serving at an all-you-can-eat buffet and watch the meat loaf fly.”
“Flying meat loaf.” Brooke shuddered. “That stuff’s scary enough when it’s just sitting on a plate.”
We all laughed again.
“Anyway, to get back to what you were saying earlier,” I told Brooke, “I’ll have you know it takes me two days to make a top with embellishments. I only need seven for this show, and I’ve already made three. Two weeks is plenty of time to find my models, sew the rest of my shirts, and have the fittings.”
“Pfft. Models,” Brooke scoffed. “So lame.”
“Really? I was hoping you’d be one.”
“I’d love to!” she beamed, and I rolled my eyes.
“As long as what I wear is dignified,” she added.
“Too late,” I said. “You’re wearing a donkey costume with Tim.”
“Dibs on the front end!” he said.
I turned to Heather. “I know you’re not a huge fan of being singled out, but would you consider at least wearing one look down the runway? For me?” I pressed my hands together and gave her a pleading pout.
Heather smiled. “If it’s for you, I think I can make an exception.”
I reached over and squeezed her. “Yay!”
“Do you need help finding the rest of the models?” asked Tim. “Because I would be willing to sacrifice my time for the search.” He put on his most solemn expression.
I narrowed my eyes. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d almost think you were offering to help me and not yourself.”
“It’s been a slow winter in the dating world,” he confessed.
“Has it been a slow winter?” Brooke tilted her head. “Or have girls finally written enough bad things about you in Locker 411?”
“Ooh!” Heather and I said.
Tim pointed at Brooke. “That is also entirely possible.”
Locker 411 was something Tim’s twin sister, Gabby, created as an info source for all students. Kids can post in the different topic binders with gossip and announcements.
“Speaking of which,” I said, “that’s actually where we put our sign-up sheet for our model search. It’s really been filling up.” I beamed. “We’ve got about fifteen people to choose from so far.”
“And we’re about to have more!” Katie rushed back toward the table, this time in striped socks, with her phone and boots in hand. “You’ll never guess what my mom just told me!”
“Running in heels is a bad idea?” asked Brooke.
Katie hesitated. “You’ll never guess what else my mom just told me!” Instead of waiting for more guesses, she plowed ahead. “My dad knows a buyer at a local boutique, and she’s going to sit in on our fashion show. If she likes what she sees, our designs could be on the rack by summer!”
Instantly, I was out of my seat. “Are you serious?”
Katie nodded. “Serious as the pain shooting up my legs!”
I squealed and hugged her, bouncing up and down. She squealed too, but followed it with, “Vanny, you’re jumping on my foot!”
“Sorry, I’m just so excited!” I backed away and clutched my hands to my chest. “We could be in a boutique!” I turned to my other friends, and they smiled.
“That’s awesome!” agreed Brooke.
“So proud of you!” said Heather.
“Very cool. Which store?” asked Tim.
“Lazenby’s,” said Katie.
“Ooh! I love that place,” said Heather. “And now I love it even more!”
“Lazenby’s?” I asked. “Wow, I haven’t shopped there in ages.”
It was in an older shopping center near the edge of town, which made it too far to go alone. And if Mom had to drive, I’d rather she take me into Chicago where there were loads more options.
“Hey, money is money,” said Tim. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
He’s been on a get-rich-quick kick since he became best friends with Berkeley Dennis, whose parents are billionaires or something.
Tim did have a point, though. I glanced up at the cafeteria clock and faced Katie. “We have fifteen minutes before I have to get to Journalism. I think it’s time to pay a visit to Locker 411 and fix our flyer. Shall we?”
“We shall!” She made a sweeping gesture down the hall. “But walk ahead of me, because I have to put my boots back on, and I may need you to break my fall if I stumble.”
“Heh. That’s the first time I’ve heard someone else say that and not me,” I commented.
I waved to the rest of my friends and walked with Katie to Locker 411. The inner walls of the locker were lined with notes about upcoming fund-raisers and the latest gossip, but our model audition sign-up sheet had been taped on the inside of the door. At first, I’d been worried people would doodle all over the stock photos of models that decorated the sheet, but so far only one of the pictures had a mustache.
“Should we take this down and put up a new flyer or—”
I stopped as something taped beside our ad caught my eye.
It was a clipping from the previous week’s advice column of a question from an anonymous reader who went by the name Wigging Out.
Dear Lincoln’s Letters,
My hair is really thin, so I’ve been pretty much bald my whole life. And I’m a girl. This means I wear a wig to school. Nobody’s figured out that it’s not my real hair yet, but I’m getting tired of the same style and color. Do you think anyone would notice if I changed wigs?
Since I was in charge of giving fashion and beauty advice for the column, I’d answered the question, but someone had scribbled over my words with a black marker:
Who is Wigging Out? Put your guess below.
People were trying to figure out who this poor girl without any hair was?
Beneath that were two names, the top one scribbled in pencil and the other in blue ink.
The one in pencil said Katie Kestler.
My jaw dropped.
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About the Author
Photo by Sonya Sones
JO WHITTEMORE is the author of the humorous tween novels Front Page Face-Off, Odd Girl In, D Is for Drama, Colonial Madness, and the Confidentially Yours series. Jo is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators and is one of the founding members of the Texas Sweethearts & Scoundrels. When she isn’t writing, Jo spends her time with family and friends in Austin, dreaming of the day she can afford a chocolate house.
www.jowhittemore.com
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Books by Jo Whittemore
Confidentially Yours #1: Brooke’s Not-So-Perfect Plan
Confidentially Yours #2: Vanessa’s Fashion Face-Off
Confidentially Yours #3: Heather’s Crush Catastrophe
Confidentially Yours #4: The Secret Talent
Credits
Cover art © 2017 by Evelyne Duverne
Cover design by Kate Engbring
Copyright
CONFIDENTIALLY YOURS #5: BROOKE’S BAD LUCK. Copyright © 2017 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of H
arperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016944448
ISBN 978-0-06-235901-8
EPub Edition © December 2016 ISBN 9780062359025
* * *
16 17 18 19 20 OPM 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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Confidentially Yours #5 Page 13
