AFTER SCHOOL, KALANI AND I met up at a nearby Tex-Mex place to rework our scripts and plot world domination. By the time we headed home, we were both feeling pretty good about the whole thing. Sure, the costume changes would be a bit of a pain, but we’d make things easier on ourselves by wearing the smaller costumes under the bigger costumes and just ducking into the bathroom from time to time to put on them on—or take them off, as the case might be. And we could take turns doing it, so there would always be one person to watch the kids while the other was changing. It seemed like the perfect plan.
That night I forced myself to bed early. And I woke up in the morning ready to take on the world. Our final mission before retiring our tiaras for good. In a way, it was kind of bittersweet. It had been a lot of fun, princess babysitting, before things got so out of control. Maybe over the summer we could revive our business for a few jobs here and there—just for fun. With no pressure to make a certain amount of money in a limited time. And no conflicts with school and homework.
As I grabbed my dress and started to put it on, I heard a chime from my phone. It was a text from Brody.
Hey! My dad finally got a chance to read your story last night!
I swallowed hard, not sure how to respond, as my heart pounded in my chest. He’d read it. A real-life author had read my story. Now the question was, what did he think about it? Did he think it was worth entering in the contest?
Before I could reply, another text followed.
He said he really liked it and he had some thoughts to share with you. He’s under major deadline for the next week, but could meet you after he turns his book in.
I squealed out loud, almost dropping the phone. He liked it! Oh my gosh, he’d actually read it and liked it! I could barely believe it! A real, live, published author had read my story and liked it! Now I could get his thoughts and edit the story and send it over to the Comicpalooza judges and . . .
Win all the awards in the universe for this stellar, superior, not-stupid work of art.
My happy smile faded as my mind flashed back to Sarah. To my stupidity on the phone with her almost two weeks ago now. As far as I knew she hadn’t written a word since. And while she never said anything about it at school, I couldn’t help but notice the hurt expression on her face, every time she looked at me. If she stopped writing altogether because of me . . . because I had made her feel like her work wasn’t good enough . . .
I grimaced. Argh. I really was the world’s worst best friend.
I glanced at the clock. I had an hour before I needed to get ready. Sitting down at my computer, I opened Microsoft Word. Then I placed my hands on the keyboard and started to type. A new chapter in the Collin Prince universe. Where a selfish, rotten girl learns a very valuable lesson about friendship—and undergoes terrible consequences for her bad behavior, losing her chance with Collin Prince forever. (Who ends up dating her super-cool, amazing, talented, sweet best friend instead—and falls in love forever.)
When I had finished, I uploaded it to Wattpad, where the rest of the story lived. I knew the website would send her a notification that it was there. I only hoped she’d go and read it.
In any case, now it was time to get ready. I pulled my beautiful princess dress out of the closet and gazed at it for a moment. This was the last time I’d ever wear it, I realized. The thought made me a little sad.
I’d just finished putting the last touches on my makeup when the doorbell rang. A moment later, Kalani stepped into my room.
“Here I am!” she said. Then she collapsed onto my bed.
I frowned, looking her over. “Is something wrong?”
She looked up, a little guiltily. “Why would anything be wrong?”
“No offense? But you’re looking a little green.”
“Oh.” She gave a small shrug. “I’m not entirely sure those tacos last night agreed with me. But don’t worry. I’ll be—”
She stopped short. Her eyes widened into saucers. Suddenly she was pushing past me and running full speed out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom. A moment later my ears caught the worst sound in the history of sounds.
Full-on puking.
I sank down on my bed, my own stomach lurching. Oh no. Not now! Of all times—not now!
Kalani limped back into the room a few minutes later. “Um . . .” she said. “I was hoping I was done with all of that.”
“With all of what? What do you mean? Was that not the first time you’ve thrown up?”
“Technically?” She winced. “It’s the sixth time. I think, anyway. I kind of lost track at one point last night. I blame being delirious from the fever.”
“You have a fever, too?” I fell back onto the bed, staring up at my ceiling. This was bad. This was really bad. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“No. Of course not! I mean, I wanted to. But I didn’t want to let you down.” Kalani gave me a desperate look. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. It only happens every hour or two and . . .” She trailed off. “Oh no,” she said. Right before she puked all over her dress.
“Excuse me,” she whimpered, and ran back to the bathroom.
I rose from my bed, pacing the room, my heart pounding at a desperate rate. There was no way I could bring her to the wedding like this. What if she got everyone sick? What if she puked on one of the guests? Or on a kid!
But what alternative did I have? If I didn’t take her, then I’d be going solo. It was already going to be hard enough to play the part of two babysitters. Now I’d have to play all four? And I couldn’t even cancel now—since we’d already lied about the other two. There was no way they were going to buy that three out of the four of us were suddenly stricken with the plague.
“Ew. It smells like puke in here.”
I looked up to see Ginny hovering in the doorway. The last person I wanted to see. “What do you want?” I demanded.
“Nothing. Mom just wanted me to let you know lunch was ready.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
She looked me over from head to toe. “You have a babysitting job today?” she sniffed. “I thought you were done with all that.”
“We are,” I said, not sure why I was even bothering to explain. “We just have to do this one last wedding and—”
“So,” Kalani interrupted, trouncing back into the room. Her dress was soaking wet from being washed and her makeup was all smudged. “That happened.”
I sighed. “Kalani, go home and go back to bed,” I told her. “I’ll call you later.”
“I can’t go to bed! We’ve got the wedding in an hour!”
I could feel Ginny looking from one of us to the other, but I refused to dignify her questioning face with an answer. She’d love it too much—to know what a desperate situation we were in.
“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Now go get some rest. I’ll call you later.”
“No! Really, Hailey. I’ll be—oh boy!”
I rolled my eyes as she ran out of the room again. Seriously, how much puke could one tiny girl’s stomach contain? I’d have been impressed if I hadn’t been so worried.
Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Looks to me like you’re short a babysitter,” she said.
“I’m short three babysitters, actually,” I replied. “Thanks for noticing.”
She paused for a moment, giving me a considering look. Then she opened her mouth to speak. “Did you . . . need some help, then?” she asked. “I could probably find a dress somewhere. I think Mom has a few in her closet from when she was a bridesmaid. And I know I have a tiara somewhere in my room . . .”
I stared at her, surprised. Was she being serious? And if she was, should I take her up on her offer? After all, I was a bit desperate here. And beggars couldn’t be choosers . . .
But in the end I shook my head. It just wouldn’t work out. She didn’t know the scripts or any of our games. And, most importantly, if I let her help, she’d want a share of the money. And we needed every last penny of that money for this to work.
“Thanks for offering,” I said stiffly. “But I’ll be fine.”
She shrugged, gave me a look that could loosely be translated as Your funeral, and then exited my room. I watched her go, biting my lower lip, wondering if I’d made the right decision. Part of me wanted to call her back, to beg her to join me. Anything to not have to do this alone.
But no. This princess didn’t need a fairy stepsister. She could do this herself.
At least I hoped I could. . . .