Chapter One

I, Amber Brown, have to spend a million dollars.

Mrs. Holt just told me so. Actually, everyone in our class has to spend a million dollars.

Too bad it’s not real money. . . .

Mrs. Holt says spending a million dollars isn’t as easy as you might think. We have to have a lot of facts and figures. And we each have to make a pie chart.

I like eating pies . . . . not charting them.

“When the project is finished, we’ll have a Budget Fair so you can see each other’s work,” Mrs. Holt tells us.

I think a “Budget Fair” sounds like a place to go on really cheap rides and get half-price cotton candy.

Mrs. Holt starts to make a list of things we have to include:

 

1. Buy a house

2. Pay for college

3. Give to charity

4. Spend the rest in $25,000 chunks

 

Mrs. Holt likes lists almost as much as I do, but my lists are more fun. This is math, which is not my best subject. It makes me wish my best friend, Justin Daniels, still lived here. That’s nothing new . . . . . everything makes me wish Justin still lived here. But he and his family moved to Alabama last year.

We still talk on the phone and write to each other, but it’s not like having him right across the street.

Bobby Clifford raises his hand. This makes me think he’s going to make an armpit fart.

To my surprise, he actually has a question. “What about my car?”

“Put it in your budget . . . . . but remember, I want details. You’ll have to research the make and the price.” Mrs. Holt raises her arm. “Ready, class? Start your budgets . . . . .” She swooshes her arm down. “NOW!”

Jimmy Russell makes engine noises like he’s starting a race car. “Vrooom, vrooom, budget . . . . . vroom! Vroom!”

He is sooooo immature.

Mrs. Holt gives him the teacher look. He stops his engine.

She passes around printouts of real estate listings so we can start our house hunting.

I don’t want to look at them. In real life Mom and Max, the guy she’s going to marry, just bought a house.

It wasn’t so much fun.

I, Amber Brown, am only nine years old, but soon my mother will have her third last name since I’ve known her . . . which is all my life.

First she was Sarah Brown. Then she and my dad got divorced and she went back to being Sarah Thompson, which was her name before they got married. Now she’s about to become Sarah Turner. It’s a good thing her first name isn’t Pancake.

I look down at the budget work sheet. Number one is buy a house. We haven’t even moved into our new house yet and Mom is already worrying about how much everything costs. She says she feels like she and Max are leaking money. Not to mention worrying about how much the wedding might cost.

Number two is paying for college. During the divorce my mom and dad argued a lot about that. It made my stomach hurt.

So one and two on Mrs. Holt’s list make me cranky. Three and four are a lot more fun. I start spending my $25,000 chunks.

1. $25,000 for the Justin Daniels/Amber Brown Travel Fund. That way we can get together whenever we want.

2. The Mom and Max Wedding Fund. In real life, Mom and Max are still figuring out what to do. Max wants a big wedding, Mom wants a small one. I’m with Max on this one. I think we should have an OTT wedding. Kelly Green taught me that phrase. It means “over the top.”

I, Amber Brown, am frequently over the top.

3. Speaking of Kelly Green, I would give her $25,000 to get her last name changed. I like Kelly . . . but I’d prefer to be the only kid in class with a colorful name.

What next? I look around the room and get more good ideas.

4. Brandi Colwin gets $25,000 to start an animal beauty parlor. We painted the toenails on her slobbery sheepdog, Darth Vader, once . . . . . one color per nail. Many pets could benefit from this treatment.

5. $25,000 to put on “Pickle Me Silly.” That’s the musical Brandi and Kelly and I are writing. We were inspired when we saw Brenda . . . . she’s my Ambersitter . . . . . in her high school musical. It was so much fun we decided to make one ourselves. So far we have half a song.

6. $25,000 for anti-nose-picking therapy for Fredrich Allen. He could use a session now. It’s such a habit with him, I bet he doesn’t even know his index finger is in his left nostril right this minute.

7. I see Hannah Burton staring at herself in her pocket mirror. I bet her charity budget is the “Me, Me, Wonderful Me” Fund. She gets $25,000 for a personality transplant.

Mrs. Holt looks over my shoulder. “Amber, please remember that you have to present your final project at the Budget Fair. Everyone in class will see it.”

I know I have to get serious. I look at my budget notes. I realize I put in something for Mom, but nothing for Dad. That makes me feel bad.

Ever since Mom and Max decided to get married and Dad moved back to town, I, Amber Brown, feel like a division problem.

I don’t need a pie chart . . . . . I feel sliced up already.