Makeover Magic (3 page)

“We do need a new one,” Brooke said. “But maybe we should pick this coppery Autumn Princess instead.”

“Nothing with the word ‘princess'!” Aly groaned. “Princess Polish is already annoying enough!”

The phone rang in the main salon, and a few seconds later one of the manicurists, Jamie, came into Sparkle Spa. “Phone's for you, girls,” she said, holding the cordless out toward Aly.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Aly said, taking the phone. “Sparkle Spa,” she said into the receiver. “How may I help you?”

The girl on the other end was talking really quickly.

“You want to
what
?” Aly asked—she hadn't quite heard the first time.

“Cancel,” the girl said, more clearly now. “Cancel my appointment before the Fall Ball. I had it for noon next Saturday. I'm Uma.”

Aly felt the blood drain from her face. She knew Uma from school, but not very well, and Uma had booked her appointment only yesterday.

“Can I ask why?” Aly said, even though the polite thing to do would've been just to say okay, remove her name from the appointment book, and forget about it.

“I changed my mind,” Uma answered.

Aly imagined her shrugging on the other side of the phone.

“Okay,” Aly said. “Thanks for letting us know.”

She beeped off on the phone and erased Uma's name from the book.

“Did we lose a customer?” Brooke asked.

Aly nodded. “Not a regular. A sixth grader named Uma. I bet she's going to Princess Polish. She didn't say so, but still.”

Brooke balled her hands into fists. “What are they doing to us? I
hate
Princess Polish.”

“I'm not a fan either, Brookster,” Aly said. “I think they may be taking some of our walk-ins, too.”

Usually, by this point on a Friday afternoon, Aly and Brooke had customers who walked by, saw their sign, and came in for a pedicure or a manicure or both. But today Sparkle Spa was quiet. Aly guessed people saw the
FREE PRINCESS PEDICURE!
sign across the street and went there instead. She figured if she were someone who didn't know how cool Sparkle Spa was and she saw that sign, she might check out the new place too.

Brooke was tugging on her fishtail braid. Aly knew that meant her sister was nervous about Princess Polish and the missing customers.

“Hey, Aly, did you braid Brooke's hair today?” Lily asked. She was stringing beads at Sparkle Spa's jewelry-making area.

Aly nodded.

“Could you braid my hair like that? And maybe weave these beads into it?” She held up the thread she'd been stringing in a pattern of alternating silver, gold, and orange beads.

“Sure,” Aly said. “Why not?” It wasn't like they had nails to polish.

“I like that style too,” Sophie said. “Can you do that for me, Brooke?”

Brooke shook her head. “I can't do that kind of braid.”

“I can!” Charlotte said. She got up from petting
Sparkly, who was asleep in his corner of the spa, behind a little gate.

“I'll string some beads,” Brooke volunteered.

Aly and Charlotte began weaving the strings of beads into their friends' hair. Brooke found some ribbons to add as well. When the braids were finished, they looked beautiful.

“I just thought of something!” Brooke was so excited, she couldn't stand still. “Sparkle Spa can do sparkly braids. And we can do them for the Fall Ball! Princess Polish doesn't do hair. We'll get all our customers back!”

Sometimes Aly couldn't believe how smart Brooke was.

“I can be a braider,” Charlotte offered. “I don't mind working for Sparkle Spa.”

Aly thought this was a very good idea—the kind of idea they probably didn't even have to run past Mom.

Brooke ran to the supply closet near the back of the room and grabbed paper and a handful of markers. “Time to make a sign,” she said.

While Lily kept stringing beads, Aly, Sophie, and Charlotte watched as Brooke drew the back of a girl's head, with a beautiful, sparkly beaded braid cascading down. Then she handed the marker to Aly. “You write the words,” she said.

Aly thought for a moment and then wrote:

Sparkle Braids at Sparkle Spa!

Perfect for Auden's Sixth-Grade Fall Ball!

Call for an appointment!

She added the phone number for True Colors underneath.

Lily inspected the sign. “I think you should add ‘Free' on there,” she said. “People like free.”

Aly looked at Brooke. Brooke looked back at Aly.

“We don't want to copy what Princess Polish does,” Aly said. Actually, she kind of wished they could charge real money for this special service, like five or even ten dollars. Then they could give the money to True Colors.

Just then Aly had an idea—a Brooke sort of idea, but it was all her own. “Do you think,” Aly started, “that maybe we could give the money in the donation jar to True Colors this time?”

“Yes, Aly,” Brooke said. “That's the best idea!”

“But . . .” Sophie scratched her head. “But True Colors isn't a charity.”

“But it
is
a place we love, and if Mom is losing business, it's a place that could use some help,” Brooke reasoned. “Come on, let's write that on the poster!”

Aly wondered if Sophie was right, if maybe this wasn't her best idea ever and was something that
would make Mom mad. But she picked up a marker and added to the bottom of the poster, in much smaller lettering:

All donations will go to True Colors.

Hopefully, Mom wouldn't mind. But just in case, Aly didn't push down very hard on the marker, so the writing wasn't very easy to see.

W
hat are you girls doing?” Joan asked. She walked over to where Brooke was holding the poster to the window as Aly was taping it to the glass. Sophie, Charlotte, and Lily were outside, giving instructions on where to place the poster so that it would be most visible.

“Joanie Rigatoni Noodles!” Brooke said, turning her head. “We came up with a way to compete with Princess Polish. Aly and Charlotte are going to do beaded braids for the dance. Like mine. Look!”
She shook her head so Joan couldn't miss her sparkly braid.

“That's not a bad idea,” Joan said, sitting down in an empty manicure chair. “We could use some more foot traffic in here. What did your mother think?”

Aly and Brooke gave each other a Secret Sister Eye Message:
Uh-oh, caught.

“We haven't actually asked her yet,” Aly said. “We looked for Mom before, while you were polishing Mrs. Bass's nails, but we didn't see her. And we figured this wasn't the kind of thing that needed her permission anyway. You know, it's a Sparkle Spa promotion.”

Joan looked around the salon herself then, as though she doubted what Aly had said. But sure enough, only Lisa and Jamie were at the manicure stations, with Carla behind the welcome desk. And Emma was sitting all by herself in the waiting area, reading a magazine.

“Carla, do you know where Karen is?” Joan asked.

Carla stopped flipping through the appointment book to look up at Joan. “She said something about going to the print shop. To make coupons, I think.”

Joan nodded. “I forgot she was doing that today.” Then she turned to Brooke and Aly. “Well, I guess it's fine for you to braid hair in Sparkle Spa. I think I'm going to grab a coffee from Beans and Leaves. Carla can help you girls out if you need anything.”

Only half an hour after the girls had hung their poster, Aly was braiding a customer's hair as quickly as she could—Charlotte, too—and there was a line of girls waiting to get their hair done. Not just sixth graders, either, and not just for a special occasion. Evidently, people liked getting their hair braided almost as much
as they liked getting manicures and pedicures, for no particular reason at all!

Luckily, when Mom found out about the hair idea, she didn't argue. In fact, she thought it was a super plan.

Aly twisted a hair band around the bottom of a braid and sent her customer over to Sophie, who had gotten two mirrors—one from Carla and the other from Jamie—to show the girls what they looked like from behind once the style was completed. Sparkly was sitting next to Sophie and barked his approval every now and then.

The next girl in line sat down in front of Aly. Aly thought she recognized her from school.

“Hi,” Aly said. “What color beads would you like in your braid?”

“Do you have red?” the girl asked.

“Brooke!” Aly called across the room. “Do we have red?”

Brooke inspected the strands of beads she and Lily had already made. “Red and gold!” she called back. “Kind of like Apple Crispy!”

“I like that,” the girl in Aly's chair said. “I'm Daisy, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Daisy. I'm Aly,” Aly said. “And that's my sister, Brooke.”

“I know who you guys are,” Daisy said. “
Everyone
at school does.”

This information was news to Aly. “Really?” she asked.

Daisy laughed. “How often do kids start a sparkly spa? You guys are famous.”

Aly felt her face turn pink. “Um, anyway,” she said, smiling, “do you want a French braid, Dutch braid, fishtail braid, backward braid, or regular braid?”

“Which one is the Dutch?” Daisy asked.

Aly pointed to one of the girls sitting in front of
Charlotte. “It's that one, where the braid kind of sits on top of your head.”

“Okay, I'll go with that one,” Daisy said. “I think it'll be a trial run for the Fall Ball.”

Aly nodded and started the braiding, making sure every strand was even and straight as she wove in the beads. Aly thought it was the best braid she'd done so far. Braiding hair was kind of like polishing nails, she realized. The more you did it, the better you got.

Once Aly finished Daisy's hair and Daisy had checked herself out in the mirror, she asked to book an appointment before next weekend's ball. Within the hour, four other girls made Fall Ball appointments too—for braids
and
manicures and pedicures. They wanted the whole Sparkle Spa treatment!

Lily stood up and held the donation jar high in the air. It was a sparkly teal color, in the shape of a strawberry. Aly and Brooke's mom had made it back
when she was in art school, before she owned a nail salon and became a mom.

“Don't forget to donate to the jar,” Lily said. “We're giving all the money to True Colors!”

“Yay, True Colors!” Brooke cheered while stringing beads.

A few of the customers smiled, and Aly did too. Wait until Mom found out!

T
wo days later, on Sunday morning, Dad was driving Aly and Brooke to the salon. Mom had gone in earlier to open up. Sparkly, who loved riding in the car, was standing on Brooke's lap with his nose out the window, sniffing the fresh air.