WHILE IT WAS SAFE TO say the Jacksons were not super thrilled that their four-year-old son had spent a portion of his evening with his hand stuck in a toilet, they thankfully didn’t blame us for allowing it to happen. In fact, they actually apologized for Liam’s behavior. (Evidently the kid had a bit of a history of sticking his arm into places it didn’t belong and getting stuck because of it.) Apologized and gave us a fifty-dollar tip for “doing the right thing.” That made Madison feel a whole lot better.
I would have felt better too, had the incident not completely destroyed my chance to study for tomorrow’s test. Now it was after nine. My stepmother would freak out about my getting home this late on a school night—no way was she going to allow me to stay up even later, especially since she was already mad at me about the plumber thing. I could tell she was this close to cracking down on my babysitting altogether, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not when we were so close to earning enough money for our trip.
And so I went to sleep without studying, setting my alarm for super early the next day. I figured I could at least read over my notes then and maybe have a chance to score a B or something. No big deal.
Instead I tossed and turned most of the night, and when I did sleep, I was treated to nightmarish visions of toilets with big teeth chasing me through the house. It wasn’t until nearly dawn that I finally passed out cold—and then I ended up sleeping through my alarm. My stepmother had to wake me up and harass me into getting dressed. In the end I barely made the bus and missed breakfast altogether. By the time I got to my history class, I was tired, hungry, and completely unprepared. And as the questions seemed to swim across the page to my bleary eyes, I realized there was no way I’d be getting a B today. In fact, I’d be lucky if I passed at all.
Madison looked just as exhausted as I was when I found her at lunch. Evidently, she hadn’t gotten much sleep either. As I sat down at the table, I watched as she picked listlessly at her food, for once in her life seemingly not hungry.
“Where’s Sarah?” I asked, looking around.
“Called in sick,” she replied, not looking up. “Which is what I should have done,” she added. “Seeing that I was up all night.” She groaned loudly, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “I am going to be a total wreck at my game tonight.”
I stifled a grimace. Madison was the star pitcher on her softball team. If she was off her game (no pun intended), it could cost the team their coveted first-place ranking and eventual spot in the playoffs.
“Just eat a lot of chocolate before the game,” I advised her. “I hear it has caffeine.” I pushed my brownie at her. “Here. You can start now.”
I hated giving up a brownie. But it would be even worse to be indirectly responsible for Chase Junior High losing out on making the playoffs. At least I deserved to get a bad grade on my test. Madison’s teammates, on the other hand, were innocent parties to all this.
“Do you think maybe we’re doing too much?” Madison asked, picking out the chocolate chips from the brownie. She chewed them for a moment, then yawned loudly. “Babysitting, school, sports. I feel like I barely have enough time to comb my hair anymore.”
I frowned. “It’s just temporary,” I reminded her. “Until we get enough money for Comicpalooza. Then we can cut back. Maybe even stop altogether if we want to.”
“Stop what altogether?” Kalani asked, sitting down at the table, lunch tray in hand.
“Babysitting,” Madison and I answered in unison.
“What? We can’t stop now!” Kalani protested. “Not when we’re so close to our goal!”
“Actually, we’re only about halfway there,” Madison corrected.
“Exactly! Halfway! Which means we only have halfway to go,” Kalani cried. “Glass half full, people. Glass half full!”
“Do you how many babysitting jobs that is?” Madison shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can keep this up. If I get kicked off the team, then I won’t be able to try out for the varsity team next year in high school. Even the chance to see Collin Prince isn’t worth that.”
Kalani looked horrified. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “This is Collin Prince we’re talking about here! He is worth every sacrifice.”
Madison’s face twisted. She’d looked tired before. Now she just looked angry. “That’s just stupid and you know it,” she snapped.
“Well, maybe I think you’re the—”
“Guys! Please!” I interrupted, jumping between them. “Let’s not fight, okay? We’re all on the same side, after all. I know you’re exhausted, Madison. I am too. And Kalani, no one’s giving up. I promise. We just need to . . . slow down a little. Madison, you can take the week off. Get some sleep. Get caught up. I’ll take your jobs.”
Even as I said the words, I mentally tried to add up in my head how much extra babysitting that would be. But I forced myself to push the thought aside. I’d make it work . . . somehow. Otherwise Madison would mutiny and the entire dream would be over forever. All the work we’d put in so far—for nothing.
Madison stared down at her plate, at first not responding. Then she nodded slowly. “I guess that’d be okay,” she said. Then she looked up at me. “But are you sure you want to do that, Hail? No offense, but you kind of look like death warmed over yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, trying to give her my best not dead yet look. “You worry about softball, and when you feel ready, you can come back. Even if it’s just on weekends. We started this whole thing together, and we’re going to end it together. And seriously, it won’t be for much longer, I promise.”
“Okay,” Madison said. “We’ll try it this way. But if anything else happens? I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to bail for good.” She gave me a rueful look. “I love Collin Prince. And I love you guys even more. But I can’t bet my entire future on some celebrity sighting.”
I could hear Kalani grunt next to me, but I refused to look at her. “You won’t have to,” I promised Madison. “It’s all going to work out. You’ll see.”
“Okay.” Madison rose to her feet and grabbed her tray. “I’m going to go find a corner in the library to steal a nap before lunch is over,” she said. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
She gave us a salute, then walked out of the cafeteria. Finally I allowed myself to turn to Kalani.
“She won’t quit,” I assured her. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Kalani sighed. I held up my hand to give her a high five. She returned it with something less than her usual enthusiasm. Giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, I rose to my feet and headed to the trash to dump my own mostly uneaten lunch. Even though I’d skipped breakfast, I just didn’t feel hungry anymore.
In truth, I was too worried.