Fashion Disaster Read Online Free PDF Page A

year and she wore that wig that was practically the color of Back to the Fuchsia?”
    Brooke nodded.
    â€œWell,” Aly said, “I wonder if there are people who are sick who might want to use your hair to make a wig.”
    Brooke was nodding so hard now that her short hair was flopping all over the place. It made Aly smile.
    â€œYes!” Brooke agreed. “That’s exactly what we shoulddo with my hair. But . . . how do we find people who might need it?”
    â€œI’ll look it up online. And we can ask Mom or Joan,” Aly said. “In the meantime, let’s put your braid back in the drawer and see about this barrette business.”
    After a bit of rummaging around in the desk, Aly and Brooke found the zippered pouch with all the barrette materials in it. There were thirty barrettes, so knowing Mom, Aly figured that meant there would be enough ribbon to make all thirty of them. Brooke took one out of her hair so the girls could see exactly what their mom had done.
    â€œLook,” Brooke said. “She braided four pieces of ribbon together, tied a knot, then left a few inches for the streamers. Then she tied a tiny knot at the end of each streamer.”
    Aly took the barrette from her sister. “And it seemslike she glued the braided part to the barrette, then tucked the top of the braid under so you can’t see the fraying ribbon at the top edge. We can make these no problem.”
    In fact, with Aly braiding and Brooke gluing and knotting, they made twelve barrettes in an hour.
    When it was time to clean up, Brooke asked, “Should we set these up near the donation jar so our customers can buy them?”
    But Aly was only half listening. She was still thinking about Mrs. Rosenberg.
    Brooke repeated the question.
    â€œI’m not sure, Brooke,” she finally answered. “I might have another plan.”
    Brooke zipped up the remaining ribbons in the pouch. “Okay. Tell me when you’re ready.”
    But somehow, thinking about Mrs. Rosenberg also made Aly think about Sparkly. Could he be sick? Isthat why he seemed so quiet and tired and heavier than usual? Aly swallowed that thought down.

    Before bed that night, Aly found just what she was looking for: a charity called Loving Locks, which donated wigs to people who had lost their hair because they were sick. The charity needed hair that was at least ten inches long, and Aly knew Brooke’s hair was much longer than that. Plus, they took donations in money as well as in hair.
    Aly was ready to share her idea with her sister, but Brooke had already fallen asleep. She was tempted to wake her up to tell her about her plan, but she didn’t want to jinx it. Tomorrow, then, she decided—first thing.

seven
Red Rover
    T he next morning, over cereal and bananas, Aly presented her plan to Brooke. She even cleared her throat first, to make her announcement more official.
    â€œI think,” Aly began, “we should donate your hair to Loving Locks. It’s a charity I found online that can turn it into a wig for someone who’s sick. And we should donate the money from all the barrettes we sell to that charity too.” She slid the piece of paper she’d printed out last night across the table to Brooke.
    Brookeread the rules. “My hair is longer than ten inches, right?” she asked.
    Aly nodded.
    â€œAnd I never dyed it any colors, and it’s stored in a braid, and it’s not in dreadlocks.”
    Aly nodded again.
    â€œAnd if we make enough money from the barrettes, then maybe we’ll be able to pay for the cost of turning my hair into a wig!”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I was thinking,” Aly told her sister.
    â€œWait!” Brooke said, stabbing the air with her spoon. “Let’s include the money from our donation jar too.”
    Aly smiled. “Perfect idea, Brookester,” she said.
    As Aly took another spoonful of cereal, she heard Sparkly