Hannah Smart, Operation Josh Taylor by Melody Fitzpatrick

me, furrowing her brow. “So now we’re exploring some new and exciting ways to earn money.”

    Wow, Rachel sounds so professional. Even though she’s a total genius, you’d never know it by the way she usually freezes up when she’s speaking in front of people. But not today, today she seems … comfortable. Maybe it’s because it’s only our parents, or maybe she’s just getting better at the whole public-speaking thing. Either way, she’s doing great!
    â€œWe have developed a business plan.” She picks up a pile of folders off the coffee table. “Hannah, could you please present everyone a copy?” She nods and flashes me a quick smile of what I think is relief.
    I jump in. “As you can see, we’ve worked really hard at making our plan super detailed so you will know that your money won’t be wasted. We even have a gimmick!” I smile proudly.
    Rachel winks at me. “That’s right, we’ve put a considerable amount of thought into our future Wishbandz business. If everyone would please turn to page one in your folders, Hannah will present our mission statement.”
    We keep taking turns presenting the business plan, explaining that Wishbandz will practically sell themselves. We end our presentation asking for our parents’ trust and then their cash.
    It takes a bit of negotiating and begging, but finally our parents agree to give us the money. We get to work right away buying supplies and making our Wishbandz, attaching a little tag on each one, explaining the Legend of the Wish .
    After a couple of days of hard work, we arrive at school extra early with about twenty-five Wishbandz tacked to a corkboard . I have to say, our display rocks! Right away, people start coming over to find out what is going on. By the time the bell rings, everyone is talking about our Wishbandz, but no one is buying. At lunch, we set up our display again. We’re getting lots of compliments, but apparently, no one has money.
    â€œOh well,” I say to Rachel. “It’s only day one.”
    Just then, Eden Payton-Patterson appears with an entourage of girls surrounding her.
    If you’ve ever heard of someone being strikingly beautiful , that would be Eden. She kind of looks like a Barbie that’s come to life. Her hair is blond, almost white, and straight as a whip, and her eyes are like this weird, pale-grey colour with flecks of blue; her skin is perfect, and even in sweatpants, without a speck of makeup, she’s gorgeous.
    â€œCool bracelets,” she says, inspecting our display. Her girls eagerly nod in agreement. “I’ll take ten,” she adds curtly, taking out her cellphone to answer a text.
    â€œWow,” Rachel exclaims. “You want ten?”
    Eden raises a perfect eyebrow. “That’s what I said.”
    â€œUm, okay. Do you want us to tie them on?” I ask.
    â€œDuh …” She rolls her eyes, continuing to text.
    One by one, each of the girls stretches out her arm, anxiously awaiting proof of her membership in the Eden Payton-Patterson Club. Each time a bracelet is tied on, Eden nods, knowing she’s just secured the endless devotion of that girl. Not that she needs our Wishbandz to get their loyalty; they follow her around like adoring little puppies anyway.
    As Rachel secures the last bracelet on puppy number nine, I see Scarlett, Anika, and Missy barrelling toward us.

    â€œOMG, as if that yard sale of yours wasn’t pathetic enough, now you’re trying to sell your junk at school?” Scarlett laughs as she plucks a bracelet off our corkboard. “Okay, that’s just hideous!” She holds it up, turning it back and forth, and then tosses it. It lands on the ground at my feet.
    â€œOops …” she says, chuckling.
    Eden glances down at the bracelet in the dirt and then raises her eyes to Scarlett, who is grinning like a satisfied cat that’s just finished