I dropped down onto my bed. Okay, then. Sick day it was. I was actually feeling pretty sick to my stomach at this point anyway, so it technically wasn’t a lie.
Yes, I decided, feeling a little better. I would stay home. I would use the day to catch up. Finish my homework. Write the short story. Maybe even do a little chapter for Sarah with Collin Prince. And then—
I let out a big yawn. But first I could catch up on some sleep.
I kicked off my shoes, put my pj pants back on, and slid back into bed. I’d just sleep a little. Then I’d start working. I’d work all day. Until it was time for the babysitting gig at the Valdezes’ tonight. Which I needed to fix my dress for—it had gotten kind of torn up two babysitting jobs ago during an intense princess-pirate battle we’d staged. But I would have plenty of time for that. . . .
21
I WAS AWOKEN SOMETIME LATER by an incessant banging at my door. I groaned, rolling over, blearily looking over at my bedside alarm clock, wondering who would be trying to interrupt my sleep at this hour.
Until I realized exactly what hour it was.
Five p.m.
I had slept all day.
The knock came again.
“I’m up!” I cried, trying to dash out of bed, as if to look like I hadn’t been sound asleep only seconds before. But I only managed to get my foot tangled in one of my blankets, which sent me crashing to the floor.
My stepmother burst into the room. “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking down at me, sprawled out crookedly on the floor.
I winced, rubbing my knee. “Would you believe me if I said yoga?”
She didn’t reply. Just handed me the house phone. The one we barely ever used, seeing as we all had our own cells. “Hailey, your friend Kalani is on the phone. She says you never showed up to the babysitting job you were supposed to do with her today.”
My eyes widened. Oh no! I’d slept through the job at the Valdez house? I grabbed the phone. “Kalani?” I asked.
“Where are you?” she demanded. “I am literally being killed by children. Like, their parents are going to come home to find a dead babysitter in their master bathroom. You need to get here now! You’re two hours late!”
I bit my lower lip, glancing up at my stepmother, who was glaring at me suspiciously. “Um, sure,” I said, turning back to the phone. “I’m sorry; I’m on my way. I’ll be right there. I just have to put my dress on and—”
“Forget the dress! The dress will take too long. I need you now!”
“But that’s sort of our—”
“Now, Hailey. Or I will seriously never talk to you again!” I could hear a crashing sound in the background and cringed.
I hung up the phone and handed it back to my stepmother. “Um. Can I get a ride to the Valdezes’?” I asked. “I don’t really have time to walk since—”
“Did you even go to school today?” she demanded, looking around the room.
“Of course I did!” I cried, grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor. “What would make you think that I didn’t go to school today?”
Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “For one thing you’re still wearing the pajama pants you wore to bed last night.”
I cringed. Busted. For a split second I entertained the idea of telling her it was pajama day at school today, but then decided it would be too easy for her to check to see if I was lying.
“Look. Can we talk about my bad choices in fashion later?” I begged. “I need to go rescue Kalani.”
She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to object, but finally gave in. “Okay,” she snapped. “But we are talking about this the second you get home.”
“Sure. No problem. Whatever. Now can you give me that ride?”
* * *
I arrived at the Valdez house twenty minutes later and helped Kalani wrestle the kids into submission. It wasn’t easy. And they were especially disappointed that I wasn’t in costume.
“Mommy said we were getting two princesses to play with!” objected four-year-old Addison, who was dressed in a wicked witch costume.
“Yeah!” added her five-year-old sister, Ava, who was dressed as Snow White. “You’re not a princess. You didn’t even brush your hair.”
My hands went to my hair. Man—I knew I had forgotten something.
“Or her teeth,” Kalani muttered.
O-kay. Make that two somethings.
“Um, actually,” I said, trying to think quickly, “I am a princess. It’s just sometimes we princesses like to wear jeans—like everyone else. You know, like casual Friday.”
“It’s Tuesday,” Ava pointed out.
“Right. Casual Tuesday. Totally a thing in princess land,” I agreed with a nervous laugh. “In fact, it’s my clever disguise. You see, I’m the lost princess and . . .”
I trailed off, realizing I had started telling two different stories at once from the scripts we’d made up: the princess in disguise (who knew of her royal birth but was hiding out from bad guys) and the lost princess (who didn’t know she was a princess until she discovered her prince). (The casual Tuesday thing wasn’t part of either—just desperate me making stuff up on the fly.) To be fair, my brain was all mushy from sleeping all day, and I was lucky I remembered any of our scripts at this point.
I could feel Kalani giving me the evil eye. “Don’t listen to her. She’s not a princess at all,” she told Addison and Ava in a confidential tone. “She’s actually just a poor little maid. Our poor maid. And she’s going to do whatever we tell her to do.” She gave me a look that told me I’d better not even think about arguing. “Now,” she pronounced with a smug smile, “let’s talk dishes.”
Oh dear.
The dishes, it turned out, were only the beginning of my punishment. I was also made to clean up the mess the kids had created earlier in their playroom, dust the entire house, and finally sweep the floor. Kalani, still in character, even managed to turn it into a game, having the kids yell at me if I missed a spot. Fun times. But I kept my mouth shut and did my jobs like a good little servant. The last thing I needed was to make Kalani even madder than she already was.
I was just finishing vacuuming when the kids’ mother came home. Mrs. Valdez took one look at me—now bedraggled in my dust-covered jeans and messy hair—and frowned.
“What are you supposed to be?” she asked. “I thought I hired a princess babysitting company.”
“Oh. You did!” I exclaimed, reaching up to wipe the sweat from my brow. My heart pattered in my chest. “You totally did! It’s just . . . something came up . . . and . . . Well, look! Kalani is all princessed out.” I pointed to my friend. She scowled back at me.
“Yes,” Mrs. Valdez agreed, “Kalani looks beautiful. She also got here on time. And she doesn’t look like she just rolled out of bed.” She shook her head. “You know, I gave you girls a chance because my daughters love princesses and I thought it would be a special treat. But if you can’t even bother to dress up?” She frowned. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“I’m sorry!” I cried, horrified at what she was saying. After all, this was supposed to turn into a once-a-week job—we couldn’t lose all that potential business because of my Sleeping Beauty snafu. “Look, I didn’t mean to be late. It’s just . . . I wasn’t feeling well, and—”
“You’re sick? You brought sickness into my house?” Mrs. Valdez cried, her expression going from angry to alarmed.
Uh-oh.
“Don’t you understand? I cannot afford for Addison and Ava to get sick,” she cried, looking truly panicked now. “If they get sick, I have to take off from work and . . .” She reached into her pocket and shoved a wad of bills in my face without bothering to count them. “Please just go.”
I shook my head, feeling tears spring to the corners of my eyes. “That’s okay. You don’t have to pay me. And I’m sorry. I really am. I promise—I’m not the kind of sick that’s contagious and—”
But she wasn’t listening. She was diving under the ki
tchen sink, pulling out an economy-size bottle of bleach, presumably to sterilize anything and everything my germ-ridden, non-princessy hands might have touched. I sighed and headed out the door. Kalani joined me a moment later, looking almost as angry as Mrs. Valdez.
“How could you do that to me?” she demanded once we were back on the sidewalk. “I called you all afternoon and you didn’t pick up the phone. Sarah offered to come over and help, but I told her you wouldn’t just ditch me like that. That you had to be on your way.”
“I’m sorry, Kalani! I fell asleep.”
“If you were too tired, you could have let me know! I would have understood. But you just left me hanging. Without even a word!” Her voice cracked on the last part, and she looked like she wanted to cry too.
“I know! And I’m really, really sorry.”
She shook her head. “Look, my parents think this is a terrible idea anyway. They are getting really annoyed with all the time this is starting to take. And I’m beginning to think they’re right.” She glanced back at the house we’d just exited. “Even Collin Prince is not worth this.”
And with that she stormed away. I tried to call after her, but she refused to turn around. And so I was forced to watch her go, my stomach twisting into knots.
First Madison. Now Kalani.
This business was supposed to make all our dreams come true. So how come it was quickly turning into a nightmare?
22
SPEAKING OF NIGHTMARES, WHEN I finally made it home, my stepmother was sitting on the couch, waiting for me. I knew that was bad. Then I saw my dad’s face on the iPad she’d propped up on the coffee table.
And I knew that was really bad.
“Hailey, your father and I need to talk to you,” my stepmother said.
I glanced longingly at the stairs leading up to my cozy bedroom. All I wanted to do was collapse onto my bed and cry. Maybe even pass out and sleep till morning. But the looks on their faces told me I wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. Not this time.
I slumped down onto a nearby armchair, avoiding my stepmother’s eyes. “Good to see you, too!” I muttered. “And why, yes, I did have a terrible day. Thanks for asking.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught my dad’s scowl. “Sit up,” he scolded. “This is serious, Hailey.”
I grudgingly forced myself into a more upright position. “Sorry.”
“Hailey, I got a call from school today. They said you weren’t in attendance,” my stepmother began.
“Yeah. Because you took off for work and left me without a ride. And your daughter refused to take me.”
“Hailey, you know I can’t be late when they call me to sub,” she said. “And we spoke to Ginny already.”
“Who told us you’ve been stealing her babysitting jobs?” my dad added. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”
Uh-oh.
“I didn’t steal them!” I protested, my heart pounding uncomfortably in my chest. This was not good. “I just provided a superior service. It’s called capitalism and . . .” I trailed off, trying to remember how Sarah had explained it.
My father and stepmother exchanged looks. “Hailey! You and Ginny are not competing corporations. You are sisters,” my father barked out from the iPad. “And as sisters you will treat each other with respect.”
“Like she treats me with respect?” I cried. “Come on, Dad! She’s like an evil stepsister from the movies. She treats me like I’m gum stuck to her shoe. What am I supposed to do? Kiss her butt? Do everything she says? Give away my hopes and dreams in order to help her fund her vast collection of patterned leggings?”
My stepmother looked troubled. I watched as she let out a long sigh, exchanging a look with my dad. I frowned.
“What?” I demanded.
“It’s just . . . Ginny’s going through a bit of a hard time right now,” my stepmother said slowly. “I know that’s no excuse for her bad behavior. But still. I need you to try to be understanding, okay?”
I frowned, surprised. Ginny was going through a hard time? Since when? The girl lived a blessed life, as far as I could see.
Suddenly her words from this morning came raging back to me.
You’re not the only one in this family who needs money. . . .
“I don’t understand,” I said, against my better judgment. “What’s going on with Ginny?”
But my stepmother only shook her head. “It’s nothing that needs to concern you,” she told me. “And everything will be just fine, I promise. Just . . . in the meantime, try to cut her some slack, okay?”
I slumped my shoulders. Of course they weren’t going to tell me. It wasn’t like I was a valued member of the family or anything. “Fine. Whatever. Can I go now?”
“No,” my father said. “We have more to discuss.”
I slumped back in my chair.
“Your history teacher sent me an e-mail,” my stepmother said. “You failed a test yesterday. So I did some digging—called the rest of your teachers.” She shook her head. “Hailey, you’re barely passing any of your classes. And you haven’t turned in completed homework in over two weeks.”
My father scowled over the iPad, his voice rising in frustration. “Failing tests, skipping school—Hailey, this is not like you. Is this some sort of acting out because I’m gone? Because I really can’t deal with this right now. I’m under a lot of pressure and . . .” He sighed.
I sat up in my seat, feeling guilty at the look I saw on his face. “Dad, I’m fine with you gone. I don’t like it, but I get it, and this has nothing to do with that. I just . . . got behind, that’s all. But I’m working to catch up. I’ll talk to my teachers tomorrow, and I’ll figure out a makeup test. And extra credit. Don’t worry.”
“Hailey, I’m afraid you’re stretching yourself too thin,” my stepmother interjected. “All these babysitting jobs. You’re working practically every night. You are way too young to be doing that. Once in a while, sure. But I think it’s time to take a break.”
I stared at her, horrified. “No!” I cried. “I can’t. Not now. Not when we’re so close.”
“Close to what? Going to a comic-book convention?” my father bellowed over FaceTime. “No.” He shook his head. “Hailey, I don’t care if these gigs would fund a trip to the moon. You will not flunk out of eighth grade.”
I bit my lower lip. “Um, even for the moon? ’Cause I’m pretty sure the school board might give me a pass on that one . . .”
From across the world I could see my father’s face redden, telling me I’d gone too far. “You are grounded, young lady. For the next week you are to come home right after school and start your homework immediately. No YouTube. No TV. No video games. And above all,” he said, looking straight into my eyes, “no babysitting.”
23
“OKAY,” I SAID THE NEXT day at lunch, “we need to do some major rescheduling.”
I explained the situation—that I was grounded for the next week. And how there were seven jobs that I wouldn’t be able to cover.
“Can any of you help?” I asked.
“Not me,” Madison said. “Playoffs are next week. Can’t miss any more practices.”
“And I’m not doing any more solo babysitting,” Kalani added. “I learned my lesson on that.” She gave me a pointed look. Clearly she was never going to let me forget my Sleeping Beauty snafu.
“Maybe you just need to cancel them,” Sarah said. “Call the parents and tell them something came up.”
I sighed, staring down at the calendar. At all that potential money, just thrown away. “If I cancel this last minute, none of these people are ever going to hire us again. We’ll be basically proving to them we’re not dependable.”
“No offense, Hailey, but we kind of are not dependable,” Madison pointed out. “So they wouldn’t be wrong.”
“Maybe we just need to forget this whole thing,” Sarah said. “We gave it our best shot. It just didn’t work out.”
“No!” I c
ried. “We can’t give up now. Not when we’ve come so far!” I looked over at Madison. “How much money are we short at this point?”
She pulled up her phone, loading her calculator app. “With the money Kalani gave me this morning . . .” She pressed at the screen. “We’re up to just under a thousand dollars.”
“Which means we’d need at least six hundred more to make this work,” Sarah pointed out before I could reply. “And that would be without eating or buying any souvenirs.”
“I don’t care about souvenirs,” I said. “And I’d be happy with a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread for the weekend.”
“Sure. But that still leaves us six hundred short. Where are we going to get six hundred dollars in the next month?”
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Kalani suddenly screeched, staring at her phone. We all turned to look at her, puzzled. “This is the best thing ever!”
“What?” I asked.
“Please tell me you’ve picked the winning Powerball numbers,” Madison begged, “and are not just finding out they’re serving pizza in the caf tomorrow.”
“They’re serving pizza in the caf tomorrow?”
Madison smacked her forehead with her hand. “Kalani!”
“Sorry.” She looked down at her phone again then up at us. A grin stretched across her face. “My cousin just texted me. She’s getting remarried!”
We groaned in unison. “So?” Sarah asked. Kalani’s cousin, at last count, had been married three times and went through husbands like most people went through underwear.
“Seriously, how is that the best thing ever by any stretch of the imagination?” Madison demanded.
“Because she needs someone to watch the kids at the wedding,” Kalani explained. Her smile widened. “And . . . because it’s a masquerade wedding—where everyone will be dressed up in costumes anyway—she wants to hire us to do it!”