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Page 4


  Hmm, that does make sense!

  I scribble notes, trying to get down everything Jada says. As she talks, I realize that I feel like I can trust her. Unlike Nat, who is always trying to dupe us into something, Jada seems very sincere. I guess she’s not responsible at all for Nat’s little tricks.

  Jada didn’t have to go out of her way to help me today, I remind myself. I decide I’m going to tell her about the Candy Toothbrush. Her company already has the Funny Gummy—they aren’t going to try to steal the idea, and besides, if Jada knows exactly what our next invention is, she might help me figure out how to sell it.

  “So the invention that Manny is working on is called the Candy Toothbrush,” I announce. I go on to give Jada the details, and basically rehash the sales pitch I’ve been giving time and time again.

  “I think it’s a cool idea,” Jada says. “But why limit yourself to candy and convenience stores? I can see this in airports, novelty stores, even before the cash register at arts and craft stores as a gimmick . . .”

  I wish I could write as fast as Jada thinks! She’s got so many good ideas.

  “As for a marketing plan,” she continues, “I’d roll out with two or three flavors and two or three different colors. That way, you could introduce new colors and flavors each year to keep the product fresh and keep customers coming back. You know, you really should do something like that for your older products, too,” she says.

  “Wow!” I say, writing so fast my pen is a BLUE BLUR. “Actually, Manny mentioned something similar for the All Ball and the Sibling Silencer. This is fantastic, Jada.”

  “You can keep track of all this on a spreadsheet like the one I showed you,” she says.

  Jada must have noticed how fast I was writing because she pauses for a moment to let me catch up.

  Then she continues.

  “Something else that will help you is a SELL SHEET,” Jada explains. “It’s one page with colorful graphics that lists all the great things about your invention, to make it easier for busy buyers to quickly see why your invention is such a good idea. And you leave it with them whenever you go somewhere, so they can think about the product when you’re not around.”

  I immediately start making a list of all the good features of the Candy Toothbrush. And I can already picture some cool graphics to make the sell sheet more interesting.

  A short while later Jada’s cell phone beeps.

  “That’s my mom,” she says, closing her laptop. “I have to get home for dinner.”

  “Thank you so much, Jada,” I say as we leave the library. “You’re really great.”

  Jada turns and smiles at me. Is she blushing? “Thanks, Billy,” she says, and she hops on her bike.

  Then she notices my backpack—which has a giant Sandbox XXL keychain on it. “Do you play?” she asks.

  “Yeah! I got to level twenty-three this morning,” I say proudly.

  Jada smiles.

  “Cute,” she says.

  “Do you play?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I play,” Jada says, and takes her phone out of her pocket. She opens up the Sandbox XXL app.

  WHAT?!

  DOUBLE WHAT?!

  Hold up.

  No.

  WAY.

  I gasp! Jada doesn’t just play. I look at her ranking. She is the NUMBER THREE player in the world!

  My jaw drops. But before I can say anything else, Jada smirks and says, “See you, Billy.” Then she peddles away.

  Forget this CFO thing. I think I need to ask Jada to give me pointers on Sandbox XXL!

  I think about how awesome Jada is as I peddle back to the office. She’s kind of quiet, but super funny in her own way. I’m glad she took the time to help me, but I’m also glad I got the chance to get to know her a little better. Also, I kind of feel like I was just in the presence of a gaming celebrity, which I guess she kind of is.

  I stop by the office, grab Philo, and arrive home in time for dinner, where I discover that Dad has made hamburgers. That’s it . . . just plain hamburgers. My dad is, um, let’s say an “interesting” chef. He usually doesn’t cook just plain burgers. You’re more likely to come home to prune-radish-cheesecake burgers. I guess you’ve got to hand it to him for creativity! It looks like tonight’s dinner is going to be yummy!

  Of course, that being said, it is still Dad’s dinner, so a bunch of weird toppings are spread across the table—toppings like mango, guava, whipped cream, and cans of tuna—at least, I think it’s tuna. It could very well be cat food. But, fortunately, all these are optional.

  As I sit at the table, I notice Emily grab a burger and get up from the table. To my absolute horror, she plops the entire thing—bun and all—into a blender!

  Yes, a blender! A hamburger smoothie sounds like something my dad would dream up! What crazy world is this?!

  WHIRP! WHIRP! WHIRP! She turns the blender on and it becomes instant mush. Not unlike her soggy cereal, I should say.

  I stare at the blender in disbelief as a gross slop of gray and brown mush spins around and around.

  “Um, Em, what are you doing?” I ask. I feel queasy, and it’s hard to get the words out without gagging.

  Emily unsurprisingly shoots a nasty glare in my direction.

  Is she finally going to say something? Is her no-talking thing over?

  Not yet. She just stares at me and scrunches up her face.

  She shakes her head. I shake mine back.

  Well, this isn’t going anywhere. I’m just going to come right out and ask her.

  “Emily, why won’t you talk?” I ask.

  She says nothing.

  “Emily, you gotta talk,” I say again. “Or I’m going to talk and talk and talk and talk—”

  “You want me to talk?!” Emily barks. “Look at this!” She screams, making me realize that this is the first time in days I’ve heard her voice. I’m instantly sorry I asked.

  And I notice, now that she has opened her mouth, that she is wearing braces on her teeth!

  Huh. Now it all makes sense! She didn’t want me to see them, and they probably make chewing hard!

  “Is that what this is all about?” I ask. “Braces?”

  “They are sooooo embarrassing,” Emily says. She puts her hand in front of her mouth so I can’t see her teeth.

  “I don’t think so,” I tell her. “Lots of people have to wear braces. Allison Arnolds has them. She changes the colors on hers every few weeks. I think they’re kind of cool.”

  What I don’t tell Emily is the only reason I ever noticed Allison’s braces is that I used to have a teeny tiny crush on her, and sometimes seeing her new braces color was the best part of my day.

  “You try wearing braces, then!” Emily snaps back. She pours the liquefied burger into a glass, then sticks a straw in.

  Between being yelled at and the slurping sound Emily starts to make, I slink away from the table. I think I’ve officially lost my appetite.

  Party Problems

  THE NEXT DAY AT THE office I find Manny still placing slivers of gummy into the toothbrush. I fill him in on my meeting with Jada, but leave out the part about her being a Sandbox XXL celebrity. The way she showed me—it was like she wanted to keep it quiet among friends. It felt kinda cool to be let in on her secret. Especially such an awesome one!

  “Sounds like she gave you some great business tips,” Manny says.

  “Well, she learned from the best,” I say, smiling.

  Sitting at Manny’s computer, I set up a new spreadsheet, just like the one that Jada showed me. I fill it in with the stores I’ve already visited, a few places I’m planning on visiting next, and a list of all the great things about the Candy Toothbrush.

  Then I take this info and start working on a sell sheet.

  When that’s finished, I decide to reach out to CANDY MART, the biggest candy chain in the country. Why not go for the best? After all, I believe in this invention. Truly. Now that I have some confidence, I decide to call the buyer at Candy Mart.<
br />
  “Hi, this is Billy Sure, president of Sure Things, Inc., and I’d like to set up an appointment with your national buyer to give you a sneak peek at our latest invention,” I say. (“President,” Jada told me, is a good title to give out.)

  “Hold, please.”

  Uh-oh. I’ve heard that before. Is this going to be another case of putting me on hold forever? I can feel the burst of confidence I just had draining. How long should I stay—

  “This is DORIS BEAN, head buyer for Candy Mart,” a voice on the other end of the phone says suddenly. “Is this Billy Sure?”

  “Yes, thanks for talking . . . I mean, thanks for the opportunity to share our—”

  “Do you have information that you can e-mail me?” Ms. Bean asks.

  “Um, of course,” I reply. “I can send it right along.”

  “Good. I’ll put my secretary on the line. He’ll give you my e-mail address.”

  “Great! Thank you for—”

  Click.

  I guess that’s it.

  A few seconds later her secretary comes on and gives me Ms. Bean’s e-mail address. I quickly e-mail her a copy of the sell sheet, hoping that I did exactly what I was supposed to do.

  Then I go back into the spreadsheet, updating it with notes from my talk with Doris.

  “Has anyone asked you to Petula’s party yet?” Manny asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  The party! Ugh. Just what I need to think about now!

  “No, not yet,” I say.

  But you know what? That party with all its rules about who can invite who is dumb. I feel that way about middle school formals, too. You can have just as much fun with friends as with a date.

  But even though I think that, I still want to go to the party. I decide to text Allison Arnolds. If she’s going to the party, and if the conversation goes well, maybe she’ll think of asking me.

  I have barely typed the first few letters of my text to Allison when BEEP! I get an e-mail, this time from Doris Bean!

  This looks interesting. Can you meet with me tomorrow morning? Say, 9:30?—DB

  “Wow!” I shout.

  “Did someone just ask you to the party?” Manny asks.

  “DORIS!” I shout.

  “Doris?” Manny laughs. “Is she going into eighth grade? I don’t know her.”

  I laugh. “No, Doris Bean—she’s the national buyer for Candy Mart. She wants to meet with me about the Candy Toothbrush!”

  “Nice, Billy!” Manny says. “Congrats!”

  This is fantastic. All I did was use what Jada taught me. Only now I’ve got to prepare for my meeting tomorrow—and text Allison Arnolds, of course.

  I’m about to go back to writing to Allison when I notice that Philo is up and pacing.

  “Looks like Philo needs to go out,” I say. “Be back in a bit. Come on, boy.”

  Philo follows me out the front door.

  It actually feels good to be outside and walking. As Philo and I stroll though the neighborhood, I spot someone familiar up ahead.

  When I’m close enough, I see that it’s Peter MacHale, a kid who goes to my school. Peter is like a one-man newsfeed. Whenever anything happens, he always has to be the first to tell me.

  Today Peter is mowing Manny’s neighbor’s lawn. It’s probably his summer job. I suddenly am really happy my job is inventing—I’d be a terrible lawn mower! I’d probably get distracted and mow strange shapes into people’s lawns.

  Peter spots me and turns off his mower.

  “Hey, Billy!” he shouts, waving.

  “Hi, Peter,” I say. Philo kicks at some grass.

  “Billy, did you hear? Petula Brown is having a pool party this Saturday!”

  “I heard, yeah,” I reply.

  “Are you going?” he asks.

  “I hope so. I just haven’t . . . um . . . been officially invited yet,” I say, reminding myself to text Allison as soon as I get back to the office. “Are you? Did anyone invite you?

  “I am! And yes,” Peter announces proudly. “I was so happy! Allison Arnolds asked me to go. We were lab partners last year. I thought she hated me, but I guess not.”

  My stomach drops like I just swallowed a bowling ball.

  “That’s awesome, Peter,” I croak out.

  “Well, TIME IS MONEY,” Peter says, starting up his mower again. “See ya Saturday, Billy! I’m sure someone will ask you!” Then he laughs. It’s not the first time he’s made a “sure” joke before, and I doubt it’ll be his last.

  I wave good-bye and head back to the office.

  I can’t believe Allison asked Peter MacHale! But I do have to say, I’m glad that I didn’t text her yet. That could have been really embarrassing.

  I know Peter and Manny think someone will ask me to the pool party, but it sounds like everyone has asked someone already. Unless . . .

  Samantha Jenkins! Samantha Jenkins might ask me. Despite the articles her mother writes, Samantha has always been my biggest fan. She did want to talk to me at Sweet Tooth, didn’t she?

  I arrive back at the office energized by my walk, and feeling pretty good about the possibility that I might actually be going to this party.

  I grab my phone and give Samantha a call.

  “Hi, Billy!” Samantha says excitedly when she picks up. “How are you?”

  I decide to cut to the chase.

  “Hey, Samantha. Have you heard about PETULA BROWN’S POOL PARTY this Saturday?” I ask, trying my best to sound like I’m just making idle conversation.

  “Oh yes, Billy!” she says, “I’m really looking forward to going! Will I be seeing you there?”

  “You know that a boy can only go if a girl asks him,” I say carefully.

  “Oh, I know,” Samantha says. “That’s why I asked Clayton!”

  My eyes widen. Clayton?!

  Samantha, my “biggest fan,” asked Clayton Harris to the pool party?! Don’t get me wrong, I like Clayton a lot. And I’m thrilled at how he really found himself through the Inventors Club. And he even helps out Sure Things, Inc. with new inventions from time to time.

  But, sheesh! Clayton wouldn’t even know Samantha if it wasn’t for me! Okay, Billy, stop feeling so sorry for yourself.

  “That’s great, Samantha,” I finally say.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you at the party, Billy! Talk to you later!” She hangs up.

  I guess, like Peter, Samantha just figures that someone must have asked me. Some inventor celebrity, huh? Or . . . CFO celebrity, I should say!

  I gather my materials for tomorrow’s meeting with Doris at Candy Mart and try to focus on that. When I’ve done all I can, I figure it’d be best just to head home.

  “I’m gonna go, Manny,” I say. “I want to get a good night’s sleep before my big meeting tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here, perfecting the prototype,” Manny says. “Good luck, though I don’t think you’ll need it!”

  I hope I don’t, I think as Philo and I head outside.

  • • •

  I arrive at home to find Emily standing at the kitchen counter. She has two bowls in front of her, one filled with yogurt, the other with mashed potatoes. She puts a tiny bit of yogurt onto a spoon and gently slips it past her braces. Then she does the same thing with the mashed potatoes.

  I actually feel sorry for Em. She’s really struggling with the whole braces thing.

  I head to my room and shoot off a text to Jada. In all my excitement I forget to tell her about my big appointment tomorrow. I’ve got to thank her! Because, of course, I wouldn’t even have gotten the appointment without her help.

  A few seconds later I get a text back from her:

  Can I come with you for moral support?

  Wow! She wants to come along. How cool is that? I text her back and we set up a time to meet the next morning.

  At dinner that night it appears the Sure family’s delicious takeout/normal-hamburger streak is over.

  “Tonight’s dinner is MEXICAN, ITALIAN, CHINESE DELIGHT!” Dad
announces happily as he slaps large blobs onto each of our plates.

  “What exactly is Mexican, Italian, Chinese delight?” I ask, watching Emily scowl at the dish. I’m glad that she was able to eat her soft snack earlier, and I honestly kind of regret not doing the same.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Dad replies. “It’s a beef taco stuffed inside a pasta shell stuffed inside a dumpling. Nice, right?”

  “Very creative, Bryan,” Mom says.

  I laugh, knowing full well that Mom is just being kind. She would much rather order in real Mexican, Italian, or Chinese food any day.

  I take a bite. It’s actually not that bad. When you break it all down, it’s just pasta, crunchy taco, and meat. In fact, I don’t even use any GROSS-TO-GOOD POWDER on it.

  “What is that flavor in the middle of all this, Dad?” I ask, helping myself to another one.

  “Curry,” Dad replies proudly. “I realized that I left out Indian food, so I added lots of curry to the whole dish.”

  No one reminds him that he forgot to call this Mexican, Italian, Chinese, Indian delight. Also, I wonder if this dinner can help bring peace to the world.

  After dinner I head to my room. I don’t even play that much Sandbox XXL. (Although I still play a little. I’m on level thirty now after some pointers from Jada.) I need rest. After all, tomorrow is a big day!

  Meetings and Mouths

  I WAKE UP EARLY THE next morning for my meeting with Doris Bean. If this goes well, it will pretty much guarantee that the Candy Toothbrush will be a hit. Or that I can do this whole CFO thing, anyway!

  I put on my nicest shirt and dress pants. I even take the bus downtown, so I don’t risk getting dirty riding my bike. Jada is already there when I arrive, waiting outside the Candy Mart headquarters.

  Jada looks very nice. She’s dressed up in a suit. I almost don’t recognize the girl with beat-up jeans who so casually revealed that she’s a world-famous Sandbox XXL player.

  “Here we go,” Jada says as we walk into the building.

  If you thought the whole interior design at Sweet Tooth was impressive, the lobby of the Candy Mart HQ is UNBELIEVABLE! The chairs are shaped like giant candy canes. If you sit on one, it kinda looks like you are hanging in midair from a red and white striped hook!