can put requests in the advice box, and we can provide suggestions. What do you think?â Brooke held her arms open. âItâs only for a couple weeks.â
âSure,â said Heather. âIâm always up for helping out.â
âI donât know.â I rubbed my chin. âDo we even know everyone well enough to do that? What if we suggest a jar of peanut butter and whoever gets the gift is allergic?â
âWho gives peanut butter as a gift?â Brooke asked, laughing. Then her expression turned serious. âThatâs what youâre giving me, isnât it?â
âNot anymore,â I assured her.
Brooke shook her head. âV, what do you think?â
âI think itâs brilliant,â she said. âWe could put an end to gifted tacky Christmas sweaters!â
The three of them looked at me until I caved.
âFine. At least I can make sure all my admirers donât get me the exact same thing.â
Cue eye-rolls in three . . . two . . .
This time it was Heatherâs turn, but she did it with a smile.
âJust for that, Iâm going to suggest âgiant pink teddy bearâ to all your admirers,â she said.
âAnd I will tell them âgiant pink teddy bearâ is slang for âgift card,ââ I replied.
Brooke pounded the table with her fist. âThen itâs settled! Iâm off to the newsroom to clear this with Mrs. H and Mary Patrick.â
Mrs. H, aka Mrs. Higginbotham, was our faculty adviser for the newspaper.
âIâll go with you,â I said, picking up my lunch tray.
The less visibility I had to Ryan, the better.
Vanessa and Heather shrugged at each other and picked up their stuff too. Brooke zipped down the hall so fast I had to jog to keep up, while Heather and V lagged behind.
As soon as Brooke and I walked into the newsroom, Mary Patrickâs hands went to her hips. âWhereâs this weekâs advice?â she asked. âItâs due today!â
Every Friday we turned in pieces so they could be printed over the weekend for distribution the following Monday.
âThe day isnât over yet,â Brooke said, reaching into her bag.
âWhy do you people always insist on waiting until the last minute?â asked Mary Patrick. âItâs not likeâ Ooh! Whatâs that?â
Brooke pulled a bag of Reeseâs peanut butter cups, Mary Patrickâs favorite, out of her backpack. I could practically see the gold foil gleaming in Mary Patrickâs eyes as the candy poured onto the desk.
She pounced on the bag and popped a piece into her mouth. âTell me you guys came up with something special for the holiday issue.â
âActually,â said Brooke, âweâre not going to write something; weâre going to do something.â
She explained the idea for the gift request service and beamed at Mary Patrick. If Brooke wasexpecting a smile or applause or a tiny parade, she didnât get it.
Mary Patrick frowned. âI donât think gift requests are such a good idea. Giving general advice is one thing, but gifts are really personal.â
âTold ya.â I bumped Brookeâs arm, but she ignored me.
âWeâd be great at it!â she assured Mary Patrick. âEspecially with the four of us contributing. We already helped Vanessa find something for Gil.â
âBecause you all know him,â said Mary Patrick. âWhat happens if you make bad suggestions for people you donât know, and they have unhappy family members because of us? I canât have you ruining this paperâs reputation. Weâve got a statewide newspaper contest next month!â
Brooke rolled her eyes. âItâs not like weâre going to recommend a flamethrower to someoneâs kid brother.â
âWell, not if he already has one,â I amended. Brooke shot me a look.
Mary Patrick shook her head. âSorry, but