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As our unfortunate Alfido project is closest to the end of the room Mr. Millington is at, he starts with ours. "Hot dogs," he reads our sign as Jerome offers him one. "All right, then." He takes a bite out of it, chewing slowly.
Stepping closer to Jerome, I mutter under my breath, "We're going to fail."
"If you keep saying that," he says at the same volume, "we are actually going to fail."
"We wouldn't be failing if we had gone with my idea—"
"The one you suggested too late—"
"—because you didn't admit that your hot dog idea was on flames until it was too late—"
"Adams—"
"Clarke—"
Denby interrupts, a raised eyebrow and an amused smile on her face, "Shall we give you two a minute?"
"No," Jerome and I say at the same time, not even sparing a glance at each other as I give her, Millington, and Sweet spiteful smiles. Jerome does apparently notice that I'm not wearing the stupid hat that he made two of because he grabs mine from behind our project, sticking it on my head crookedly.
Mr. Millington finishes chewing his bite of the hot dog, saying, "The thing is, Jerome, Ashley, people sell hot dogs the world over. What makes yours so special?"
I fix my hat, glaring at Jerome as he answers, "I'm glad you asked. Meet Alfido, our multimedia marketing campaign." Alfie comes out from behind the curtains on the stage, grinning as he jumps down to join us.
"A.K.A," he says, "Hot Doggy Dog." Alfie does a little dance, barking along with it, earning laughter from the rest of the students.
While everyone's distracted, I notice that Patricia and Fabian start to sneak out, likely to go find Amber and speak with her. I'm actually tempted to follow, but all the attention is on me and my project partners so if I were to sneak out, it'd be noticed. But Patricia and Fabian don't even get a chance to sneak out before Denby's watching them, and they come back. Please, can we just get this project thing over with?
"Stop, stop," Jerome tells Alfie. "Alfie, stop."
"Fido, down, boy," I add, grabbing Alfie's shoulders.
"Oh," Alfie says. "Oh, yeah, sorry, business."
"The idea," Jerome informs, "is to not only make money from Alfido hot dogs but from Alfido toys as well." He brings out a small stuffed animal from behind the project.
"Oh my God," I mutter.
Mr. Millington looks at him weirdly and Jerome sticks the stuffed animal back behind the project. "There's also Alfido aftershave." This time it's a small bottle and he sprays some of it in the direction of Millington's face. You've got to be kidding me.
"Because women like a bit of ruff-ruff," Alfie adds. I purse my lips, trying not to say anything.
"All building up to Alfido: The Movie."
Imitating the voice of the main character in a cop movie from the '70s, Alfie says, "I'm a dog who's also a cop laying down the law with a big, furry paw." He touches Millington's nose with his costume-covered hand.
Jerome laughs, almost nervously, and asks, "So what do you think?"
"Boys, girl..." Millington says. "I'm not sure. But the sauce, very good."
"Really?" I ask with raised eyebrows. Jerome elbows me. "I mean... really, it is. Doesn't taste at all like new socks. Or old ones."
Millington slowly nods. "Right." He clears his throat, looking to Denby and Sweet. "Let's move on, shall we?"
Once his back is turned, Alfie and Jerome high-five each other. They both turn to me, holding their hands up and expecting me to high-five them as well. I just have my arms crossed, glaring at them. Jerome and Alfie glance at each other and slowly lower their hands.
Jerome quickly grabs the stuffed animal from behind our project, holding it out for me to take. "For you, my angel."
"Stop calling me your angel, it freaks me out," I retort. He smiles, holding it out further. I narrow my eyes and grab it. Admittedly it is sort of cute. "Fine, I'll take it."
Alfie looks between us, turning around and going back onto the stage, grabbing Willow's arm while at it. Jerome steps closer to me, remarking, "Well, that turned out better than expected."
"Maybe," I agree. "Or maybe we failed even more than we thought we were."
"Do you always have to be so pessimistic?"
"Uh, hello, it's me. Must I remind you about the whole genetic thing I have going on?"
Jerome pauses. "No. Please don't. I forgot about that."
"How?"
"I don't know."
—
As Mr. Millington goes around trying everyone else's snacks—Eddie's American snacks, Joy and Fabian's Egyptian ones, Patricia and KT's misfortune cookies, Mara and Willow's fruit/vegetable bars—Alfie disappears onto the stage while Jerome and I watch the adults, arms crossed.
"Who do you think's going to win?" I ask.
"Joy and Fabian," Jerome answers. "Maybe Mara and Willow."
"I would've thought you'd be into Patricia and KT's misfortune cookies. You know, fake secrets stuffed into cookies."
"I did, until I stole one and it said I took secret ballet lessons."
I can't help the loud laugh that comes out of my mouth, nearly doubling over with laughter. Jerome glares at me as I calm down. "Sorry. Sorry, I just started imagining you dancing in The Nutcracker or something. Just swaying to the music—"
"Well, I took another one," he interrupts, "that said you once fainted after eating too many sweets and you woke up speaking French."
"Speaking French?!" I repeat, looking over at Patricia and KT's stand. French, of all languages?! "How does—how does that make any sense?"
"How does me taking secret ballet lessons make any sense?"
On the stage, Alfie's voice suddenly comes through a microphone, "Hello? Excuse me, everyone, hi." Everyone turns their attention to him, still in his dog costume. "Uh, look, I realize Amber's not here, but she wanted to use this project to show off her talent, and, well, I owe this to her. So, if everyone's ready to rock..." Cheers and applause fill the room. "Hit it, KT!"
KT, who's behind him on the stage, turns the boom-box on and fashion show music comes through the speakers. "That's right," Alfie continues. "Amber Millington proudly presents Foodie Fashion!" Willow walks out on stage, wearing a unique dress that only Amber Millington could have designed. "Willow is modeling a mouth-watering chow-fest. It's goodbye, black dress, and hello, snack dress. And to top it all off, your very own snack hat. It's fun. It's funky. It's Amber!"
Willow blows a kiss to her audience before going backstage and the music stops. Alfie jumps off the stage, following after Amber's dad.
"I hate to admit it," Jerome says, "but Amber's actually pretty talented."
"Yeah," I agree. "Maybe fashion school really is her calling."
"Well, everybody," Denby says, "we have some judging to do. Take a break, but I want everyone back here in ten minutes."
Fabian motions for me to come over.
"Scooby gang?" Jerome asks, sighing.
"I'll back before the judging starts," I tell him, kissing him quickly before walking over to Fabian, Alfie, and Patricia.
"Now's our chance," the former says. "Let's go and get Amber."
Unfortunately, Sweet seems to notice us leaving. "Your four," he says, causing us to turn back, "I need volunteers to help set up the stage." We start to protest it, but to no avail. "No buts, Patricia. Come, come on."
Well, there goes that plan.
—
It doesn't take us that long to set up the stage. I think we helped set it up faster than we usually would've because we had motivation to get out of there. "As soon as this is over," Fabian says as we get off the stage, "we're getting back to the gatehouse."
Sweet taps the microphone to get everyone's attention. "Now, as you know, everyone's business project will be graded as usual. However, this is a small matter of a special prize for the very best idea. A brand-new laptop-y, computer-y thing, no less." More applause, but the four of us are just tired. "So now I'd like to ask Mr. Millington to please do the honors."
Before Mr. Millington steps up to the microphone, he says something quietly to Mr. Sweet. I glance at the others, seeing their confused looks as well, before we see that Miss Denby appears confused and taken aback as well. Finally, he stops talking and steps up to the mic.
But the applause is still going, the four of us clapping with more urgency than the others. "Hurry up," Alfie mumbles. "Come on. We need to get out of here."
"Let's just hope none of us is the one that won," I mutter. If one of us won, that would mess everything up.
"It's a great honor," Millington says, "to announce the winner of your very first business studies competition. The winning snack is an idea that asked, 'What does this place have to offer that no other business could?' The answer is... A Taste of Anubis, Joy Mercer and Fabian Rutter!"
Joy looks thrilled, but Fabian looks down. The tension between them—what happened?—is clear as they get up onto the stage together. Millington offers them the laptop. Fabian looks like he just wants to get out of there as quick as he can and we're right there with him. Heck, Joy even looks uncomfortable.
'Come on!' Patricia mouths to him. Fabian hurriedly hands the laptop to Joy, saying he had to go. But of course, Sweet stops him. "Fabian, Fabian, not so fast," he says. "I've asked KT to take some photographs of you and the winners, if you don't mind."
By now, everyone has cleared out of the room except for us. "If we could hurry this along, Mr. Sweet?" Millington asks.
Oh, for the love of Anubis!
—
By the time we finally get out of the lounge, all four of us, we can see Sweet's door closing—with Victor and Amber both inside. Again, not good!
"Amber?" Alfie asks.
"The spy hole," Patricia remembers. "Let's go!"
The spy hole in the girls' bathroom—I'd forgotten about that. Patricia uses a nail file to take the tile off the wall once we're inside, looking through it, while Fabian, Alfie, and I are just standing there, useless.
"It's Amber," Patricia confirms. Alfie pushes her out of the way to look through the hole, and I try to lean closer to see if I can hear anything from Sweetie's office. It's all just muffled voices. I can't hear anything clearly.
After a minute of looking through and eavesdropping on the conversation, Alfie moves away from the hole, leaning over the sink. He heard something. He hasn't told us. Why hasn't he said it?
"Alfie, are you okay?" Fabian asks.
"What did they say?" Patricia questions.
"Alfie, tell us," I add.
"It's Amber," Alfie says slowly, sounding confused. "She's betrayed us."