Makeover Magic (4 page)

“So, Alligator,” Dad said, looking in the rearview mirror at Aly. “Mom tells me this is the week you and your friends are decorating for the sixth-grade dance.”

Aly nodded. With all the trouble because of Princess Polish, it had almost slipped her mind. “We are,”
she said. “Even though Brooke and I usually open Sparkle Spa on Fridays, we can't this week because that's the day the fifth graders are decorating the gym. The ball's on Saturday night.”

“I wish I were a fifth grader,” Brooke said, sighing. “Do you think I could pretend?”

Aly smiled at her sister. “I think people might notice that you're a little short for a fifth grader.”

“What if I wore high heels?” Brooke asked hopefully. “Just a few inches?”

Dad shook his head. “You know the rules,” he said quickly over his shoulder.

Brooke did know the rules. And Aly figured her sister didn't
really
believe that high heels would make her look that much older. But that was Brooke—she would try anything.

“Girls, I'll come get you around four,” Dad said as he slowed to a stop in front of True Colors. “Mom's
going to work late today. Maybe we can go to the movies tonight?”

“Can we get popcorn for dinner?” Brooke asked. “And Sno-Caps?”

Aly stopped herself from laughing out loud. She knew there was
no
way their dad was going to go for popcorn and chocolate as dinner.

“How about for dessert?” Dad said.

“Deal!” Brooke said. She popped the lock on her door, opened it right onto the sidewalk, and scooted out, with Aly and Sparkly following.

Aly couldn't help but steal a glance across the street at Princess Polish. She so wished they would just disappear into thin air. And she couldn't believe what she saw—a
new
sign was in their window:
PRINCESS HAIR DESIGN! BRAIDS! CURLS! UPDOS! BEADS! FEATHERS! SPARKLES! TIARAS! WE HAVE IT ALL!

Under the words was a huge photograph of a girl
wearing a glittery crown with braids decorated with beads and feathers.

Aly felt like someone had kicked a soccer ball into her stomach. After Dad drove away, she quickly crossed the street so she could look inside the salon. She saw a few manicurists with high ponytails and matching pink aprons.

“What are you doing?” Brooke called out. “You know I can't cross without you!”

“Sorry, Brookie,” Aly said, running back across the street to her sister. Then she pointed out the sign to Brooke.

“I can't even stand it!” Brooke shouted. “They copied our idea and made it even better. That's not fair.”

Brooke stomped into True Colors and straight into Sparkle Spa without saying a word to anyone. Mom looked up at Aly and Sparkly, who were trailing behind.

“She saw the sign?” Mom
asked from behind the welcome desk.

“We both did,” Aly answered. “And we don't want to feel better about it. We just want to be mad for a while.”

Mom nodded. “Okay. But just so you know, I'm mad too. You girls came up with a wonderful idea. I'm sorry they one-upped it.”

“Me too,” Aly said. And then she went into Sparkle Spa to be mad along with her sister.

When Clementine and Tuesday, two third graders who first came into Sparkle Spa during the pet adoption polish-a-thon Aly and Brooke had held, showed up for their manicures, Brooke was on the verge of tears. And when three different sixth graders called to cancel their Fall Ball hair-braiding appointments for next Saturday, she started crying.

After that, luckily (or unluckily), the salon was empty. Aly didn't think it would be great for business
for customers to see one of the owners weeping.

“Don't worry, Brooke. We'll fix this,” Aly assured her, and handed Brooke a cup of water. She wasn't really certain they could, but she wanted to make her sister feel better.

Aly realized she didn't feel sad, she felt mad. But she knew from dealing with mean Suzy Davis ever since kindergarten that being mad wouldn't change anything. It was time to do something to make the situation better. Anything at all.

“What if we make a list of ways to get more customers?” Aly said. “If we keep coming up with new ideas, maybe we can eventually wear Princess Polish down.”

“But that's the
problem,
” Brooke moaned. “They're idea stealers. Every idea we come up with, they'll just steal it and make it better. If they keep doing that, we might not even
have
Sparkle Spa for much longer.”

“Then it's a good thing we're creative thinkers,” Aly said. “Because we'll have to come up with
lots
of ideas. And maybe we'll come up with some they
can't
steal.”

Aly went to the back of Sparkle Spa to get some pens and paper. She chose a blue pen for Brooke and a purple one for herself—one of her two favorite colors (the other was green), so maybe it would be lucky. She picked Sparkly up and put him on her lap. She thought that might be lucky too.

“Brooke, you face the door and I'll look at the wall. That way we don't distract each other. I'll set my watch and we'll brainstorm for five minutes. Okay?” Aly asked.

“Okay,” Brooke answered, her blue marker uncapped and ready to write.

“Three, two, one, go,” Aly said.

But just like the wall she was staring at, Aly's mind was blank. She kept hoping ideas would somehow
magically appear. But when five minutes passed, Sparkly was asleep, Aly's paper was covered in purple hearts, and Brooke had drawn a picture of a puppy.

Later there was a knock at the door. As Sparkly barked, Aly turned to see Charlotte with her twin brother, Caleb.

“Hi,” Aly said. “Is your mom getting her nails done in True Colors?”

Charlotte nodded. “I figured maybe you could give me a new manicure? My polish from last time is starting to chip.”

“Sure,” Brooke said, standing up. “What color do you want?”

“I'll take a look,” Charlotte said. “And Caleb wants his nails done too.”

“No problem,” Aly said, standing up next to Brooke. “Just cleaning and filing, like we did at the polish-a-thon?” she asked him.

Caleb stared at his shoes. Charlotte elbowed him. “Tell her!” she prodded.

Caleb kept staring at his shoes, but he said quietly, “Charlotte was telling me how rock stars get nail polish . . . and when we adopted Bob from Paws for Love, he had cool green nail polish. So, um, I was thinking maybe green?”

Brooke looked at Aly with raised eyebrows. Aly
returned the look and shrugged. “Sure, okay,” she said to Caleb. “Why don't you pick out which green you want.”

When Caleb and Charlotte walked over to the polish display, Brooke whispered to Aly, “I don't want to do a boy.”

Aly sighed. “Boy hands are just the same as girl hands. And Mom and Joan and all the manicurists do men sometimes. But it's fine. I'll take Caleb. You do Charlotte.”

Brooke nodded and walked over to one of the manicure stations to set up.

“Um, Aly?” Caleb asked. “Do you think Oscar the Green is a good one? Is that close to what you used on Bob?”

Aly joined Caleb at the display. “We used a different kind of polish on Bob, special for dogs,” she said. “But that color's pretty close. So is this one.” She picked up a bottle of Pickle Me and handed it to him.

“I like this one better,” Caleb said. “Thanks, Aly.”
He smiled at her, and then he looked down at his shoes again. Aly looked at his shoes too, to see what was so interesting down there, but all she saw were dirty sneakers with double-knotted laces.

Aly sat down across from Caleb and started cleaning his nails.

Charlotte had chosen Strawberry Sunday and was sitting across from Brooke, who was taking off Charlotte's old polish.

“Aly,” Charlotte said, “did you sign up for a job on the decorating committee yet? Caleb and I signed up for balloons.”

Aly had been in such a hurry to get to Sparkle Spa after school on Friday, she'd forgotten to sign up. She shook her head. “I didn't. But I can see if there's still an opening for balloons tomorrow.”

“I think balloons is the best job,” Caleb said, “because you get to use the helium tank.”

“When I'm a fifth grader, I'm going to sign up
for posters,” Brooke said. She was filing Charlotte's right-hand nails while Charlotte's left hand was soaking in warm, sudsy water.

“Who do you think is going to get the On the Ball trophies?” Charlotte asked.

“Well, Jenica started the after-school sports program, and Lucas Grant made up that kindergarten reading program, so I think it should be the two of them,” Aly said. “Or I hope so, at least. What about you, Caleb?”

Caleb shrugged but managed to keep his left hand steady. Aly was impressed. “I don't really know many of the sixth graders,” he said. “But next year I bet it'll be you. For doing things like the polish-a-thon to help raise money for dog adoptions and stuff.”

Aly felt her face turning really hot, and she knew her cheeks must be the color of Pink Lemonade Float. “Thanks,” she said.

“Aly?” Caleb said once she was finished cleaning
his nails. “I think I want Pickle Me only on my thumbs. I think it'll look cooler that way.”

“What a cool idea, Caleb,” Brooke said. “We can call it the ‘thumbs-up manicure'!”

Caleb grinned at Brooke. After a few more minutes Charlotte's and Caleb's nails were done and dry, and their mom poked her head into Sparkle Spa to get them.

“See you at school tomorrow,” Charlotte said, dropping some money in the donation jar.

“Yeah, see you,” Caleb said. “And thanks for my rock star nails—I mean thumbs.” He scratched Sparkly behind the ears and gave a thumbs-up sign to Brooke and Aly.

“You're welcome,” Aly said. “Come back whenever you want.”

Brooke pulled out the girls' doodle-covered lists from before. “Okay,” she said, “let's start thinking about how to get more customers. For real this time.”

Aly stared at the paper and then said, “Before we start again, I'm going to take Sparkly for a walk.”

Aly and Sparkly walked past Beans and Leaves and A Taste of Chocolate. She stopped in front of John's Sport Shop, looking at the soccer balls, baseball bats, and lacrosse sticks. And just like that, she got an idea.

“Come on, puppy. Let's run back to the salon.” The two of them raced down the sidewalk.

“Boys!” Aly said when she rushed through the Sparkle Spa door. “We need to get more boys!”

Brooke wrinkled her nose. “But boys mostly don't like sparkles.”

“But Caleb liked Pickle Me,” Aly reminded her. “And we can tell them that even if they don't want rock star thumbs like his, they should still have clean nails for the Fall Ball! I mean, if dogs can get their nails done, so can boys.”

Brooke pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. “I guess it's not the worst idea. But I'm still going to think of some more.”

Just then Sparkly started whining as Joan walked into the back room carrying a large flat box and a brown paper bag. “Pizza Picnic time!” she announced to the girls. “I made some cookies for you to try, too.”

Aly smiled. She loved Sunday Pizza Picnics with Joan. Her cookies were the best anywhere. Sometimes people even paid her to make cookies for weddings, birthdays, or fancy parties. “Great,” Aly said, getting up to go grab their picnic blanket.

“We're trying to make another list of ways to get more customers,” Brooke told Joan once the blanket was on the floor and they were eating. “But we only came up with one idea so far. Actually, it's Aly's idea. It's to get more boys to come.”

Joan stopped eating mid-bite. Then she swallowed.
“That's actually an excellent idea, Aly.” Joan got up from her spot and stuck her head into True Colors. “Karen, come in here for a sec,” she called.

“What is it?” Mom asked. She took a seat next to Aly on the blanket.