CHAPTER 4

Not So Secret

“You have five seconds to explain yourselves,” says Emma M. “And if we don’t like what we hear, we’re telling Ms. Gelson as soon as she calls us all back to our desks.”

This is bad on so many levels. First of all, the Emmas can get you in trouble just for sneezing. And second of all, I pretty much have zero chances left right now. As Mom said last month, there are already two strikes against me.

I may as well tell you about how I can’t help making decisions without thinking things through completely — I usually think of what can go right, not wrong. My mum says it’s “how I’m wired” and that seeing the potential in things will make me a great entrepreneur. But if something does go wrong, my moms always find out.

The first strike happened after I put water down the slide at the park (which makes it go a lot faster, by the way). The second strike was when I was working on my self-portrait assignment for art class. I by accident photocopied my face three hundred times instead of just once using the scanner in Mum’s office.

Last week, after the scanner situation, Mom told me that a third strike means I’m grounded for a whole week without negotiation* so I have time to think about the consequences of my actions.

*Negotiation is an important business skill, so if I do get grounded, I’m planning to negotiate it down to three days.

If you think that was all the bad stuff, you’re wrong. Because if I’m grounded that means I can’t hang out with Charlie after school, and then how are we ever going to get our business off the ground?

So I need to do everything I can right now to stay out of trouble.

Charlie shifts around nervously, which is never a good sign.

“For every human in the world, there are one million ants!” he blurts out.

Ruby sighs, but the Emmas stare at Charlie ferociously. His cheeks turn bright red. Redder than his hair, redder than the pizza sauce still stuck to Emma M.’s cheek, so red his freckles have almost disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I say, standing in front of Charlie to shield him from her death glare. “It was an accident — I was aiming for Morten. Please don’t tell on us … Charlie was helping me with a business idea, and we don’t have time to get in trouble. I’ll — I’ll do your homework for a week!”

“Emma M. doesn’t have homework, Wednesday,” says Emmet, putting his arm around her. “We use our class time wisely. Try again.”

I don’t know how the Emmas get such good grades when all they do is pass notes all day long. Then Ruby looks like she’s going to say something, and I brace myself for the worst.

“What’s your idea?” Ruby asks. And she actually seems interested. We used to invent things together, but now the Emmas tease us that it’s something only little kids do. All of a sudden, I’m embarrassed that we don’t have a cool idea to prove them wrong.

Charlie begins to speak. “It’s, it’s a —”

“Secret!” I say suddenly. Everyone looks at me.

I’m sure you know that when you say something’s a secret, it’s because you don’t really have anything to say. The Emmas look at each other and start to laugh. Then Emma M. holds her cheek in her hand and says she’s feeling faint. Emma N. mentions the school nurse has ice packs for injuries like this, but they would have to tell him everything that happened. The only good thing about Emma M. going to the nurse is that she’d be given the same ice pack that Randall had on his butt after sitting on his pencil last week. I try really hard not to laugh. Charlie can’t even look me in the eye. Now what? Think, Wednesday. THINK!

“It’s a secret … keeper,” I blurt out, and suddenly everyone seems very interested. I flip through Charlie’s invention notebook so fast they can’t see what’s on the pages. “And if you don’t tell on us, you can have the first one on the house.”

“What does that mean?” Emma N. asks.

“It means for free.”

“I know that, Wednesday,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I mean, what’s a Secret Keeper?”

Now’s my chance to share my elevator pitch*! “A Secret Keeper,” I start to say, hoping my brain can keep up with my mouth, “is the newest way to protect the things you need to keep a secret.”

*An elevator pitch is another business thing where you pretend to be in an elevator with someone really rich who only has a few seconds to learn about your business so they can give your company money. My moms make us take the stairs all the time, so I’ll probably never end up in an elevator with a rich person, but you get the idea.

“And it’s portable!” adds Charlie.

They don’t seem convinced. I’ll have to try another angle.

“You know those notes you pass in class?” I say, and all the Emmas nod their heads. “Well, imagine if they fell into the wrong hands.” I make a sideways glance at Ms. Gelson for effect.

The Emmas gasp. Emmet covers his face with his hands. They are so dramatic, and finally it works in my favor.

They look interested now. Ruby does, too.

Then Emma N. speaks. “Obviously that would never happen because, unlike some people, we are careful,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want one.”

Ruby and the Emmas turn to huddle together and start whispering to each other before Emma M. finally turns to us. “We expect a Secret Keeper delivered to my desk before first bell tomorrow morning,” she says, looking directly at me. “Or else.”