The Secret Talent Read Online Free PDF Page B

can put requests in the advice box, and we can provide suggestions. What do you think?” Brooke held her arms open. “It’s only for a couple weeks.”
    â€œSure,” said Heather. “I’m always up for helping out.”
    â€œI don’t know.” I rubbed my chin. “Do 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€œWho gives peanut butter as a gift?” Brooke asked, laughing. Then her expression turned serious. “That’s what you’re giving me, isn’t it?”
    â€œNot anymore,” I assured her.
    Brooke shook her head. “V, what do you think?”
    â€œI think it’s brilliant,” she said. “We could put an end to gifted tacky Christmas sweaters!”
    The three of them looked at me until I caved.
    â€œFine. At least I can make sure all my admirers don’t get me the exact same thing.”
    Cue eye-rolls in three . . . two . . .
    This time it was Heather’s turn, but she did it with a smile.
    â€œJust for that, I’m going to suggest ‘giant pink teddy bear’ to all your admirers,” she said.
    â€œAnd I will tell them ‘giant pink teddy bear’ is slang for ‘gift card,’” I replied.
    Brooke pounded the table with her fist. “Then it’s settled! I’m off to the newsroom to clear this with Mrs. H and Mary Patrick.”
    Mrs. H, aka Mrs. Higginbotham, was our faculty adviser for the newspaper.
    â€œI’ll go with you,” 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 Patrick’s hands went to her hips. “Where’s this week’s advice?” she asked. “It’s due today!”
    Every Friday we turned in pieces so they could be printed over the weekend for distribution the following Monday.
    â€œThe day isn’t over yet,” Brooke said, reaching into her bag.
    â€œWhy do you people always insist on waiting until the last minute?” asked Mary Patrick. “It’s not like— Ooh! What’s that?”
    Brooke pulled a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups, Mary Patrick’s favorite, out of her backpack. I could practically see the gold foil gleaming in Mary Patrick’s eyes as the candy poured onto the desk.
    She pounced on the bag and popped a piece into her mouth. “Tell me you guys came up with something special for the holiday issue.”
    â€œActually,” said Brooke, “we’re not going to write something; we’re going to do something.”
    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 didn’t get it.
    Mary Patrick frowned. “I don’t think gift requests are such a good idea. Giving general advice is one thing, but gifts are really personal.”
    â€œTold ya.” I bumped Brooke’s arm, but she ignored me.
    â€œWe’d be great at it!” she assured Mary Patrick. “Especially with the four of us contributing. We already helped Vanessa find something for Gil.”
    â€œBecause you all know him,” said Mary Patrick. “What happens if you make bad suggestions for people you don’t know, and they have unhappy family members because of us? I can’t have you ruining this paper’s reputation. We’ve got a statewide newspaper contest next month!”
    Brooke rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’re going to recommend a flamethrower to someone’s kid brother.”
    â€œWell, not if he already has one,” I amended. Brooke shot me a look.
    Mary Patrick shook her head. “Sorry, but