Hannah Smart 3-Book Bundle. Melody Fitzpatrick

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Hannah Smart 3-Book Bundle - Melody Fitzpatrick Hannah Smart

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below the clock was Rachel’s desk, and as my eyes fell from the clock to her, well specifically to the can of soda in her hand, I suddenly realized that she was back and nobody had filled her in; she had no idea what was about to happen.)

      In my mind I was screaming, “No! No! No! New Girl … don’t do it … don’t open that can …” But before I could warn her, she poked her finger through the loop of the pull-tab and then … snnnnnnnnnnnap … swishhhhhhhhhhhhhh … orange syrupy liquid was spraying everywhere, in every direction. It was all over her — in her hair, on her clothes, on her desk, on the floor. She sat frozen, like a sticky orange zombie, with everyone’s eyes glued on her.

      I knew one thing for sure: she needed my help. I sprang from my desk, sprinted to the craft table, and grabbed a massive roll of paper towel. Looking back now, I think everything would have been fine if I had just gone a tiny bit slower, but I kind of panicked.

      Now to be clear, I don’t think it was my fault that I slipped; the Orange Crush had turned the floor into a Slip ’N Slide, and how could I have known that Rachel would pick that exact moment to snap out of her daze and spring up from her desk?

      It was like bowling a perfect strike. I hit her square on, and like a bowling pin, she went flying … and so did the can. It flew out of her hand and into the air, turning end over end, spraying an Orange Crush mist over everything in its path. When it finally landed, it was upside down on Scarlett Hastings’s lap. Now, if you knew Scarlett Hastings like we know her, you would realize that this was the worst place for that can to land. I’ll explain more about that later.

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      Anyway, the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital with a concussion and the strangest feeling that I was being watched. Sure enough, the first thing I saw, as soon as I was able to focus, were two big blue eyes staring at me through a tangled mess of sticky, long, strawberry-blond hair. Those eyes, peering at me from the next bed over, belonged to Rachel. She was also the proud owner of ten brand new stitches, a broken arm, and a new best friend.

      In the hospital we found out how much we had in common. Most importantly, this is where we discovered we were (and still are) Josh Taylor’s absolute biggest fans!

      Wait a second … we are his biggest fans … Rachel and me … could it be that easy? Of course it is. I just figured out a plan, a brilliant plan. I’ll call Rachel! She’ll know exactly what to do. Problem solved! I told you I’m no dummy.

      “

      3

      The Highs and Lows of Celebration Pizza

      Hey, Mrs. Carter, is Rachel around?” I say into the phone.

      “Well, she is supposed to be in her room doing her homework, but you know Rachel.”

      So, I told you Rachel is smart, but the weird thing is she hates pretty much everything to do with school, especially homework. Her mom is always on her case about this. I guess it makes sense though since her mom is a teacher, well actually a university professor. She teaches holistic nutrition, which, according to Rachel, just means she teaches people how to be completely obsessed with organic food. Rachel’s dad is a pediatric surgeon. So, it’s not surprising that Rachel’s IQ is like over 140, not that she seems to care. This is the one thing I don’t get about Rachel. I’d love to be smart like that. I know it drives them crazy when she goofs off, which I hope she’s not doing now, but I know she probably is.

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      “Rachel Lynn Carter!” I hear her mom bellow. “Turn the music down! What are you doing?”

      I hear Rachel mumble something in the background. She’s probably doing a Josh portrait again. She’s super talented, and she should be; she gets lots of practice. I think every girl in our class has at least one of her Josh Taylor sketches.

      “What’s up?” she says, with a sigh.

      I can tell by her voice that I was right; she’s in trouble again, but right now I’ve got much more important things on my mind.

      “You are not going to believe what I am about to tell you!” I squeal.

      “What?”

      “It’s the best news!”

      “What!”

      “Oh, you are going to be so excited!”

      “What is it?”

      “Well, how would you like to see …”

      “Wait …” she cuts me off in midsentence. “My mother is freaking! I have to go. Call you later.”

      Then there’s a click and a dial tone.

      This is beyond terrible on so many levels. I didn’t get to tell her about Josh, and she didn’t get to help me with my plan!

      Suddenly, as if by magic, the phone rings. Thank god!

      “Hey!” I say anxiously. “Wow, that was fast! So, like I was saying, how would you like to see …”

      “Hannah, what are you talking about?”

      “Oh, Dad … it’s you.”

      “You were expecting someone else?”

      “Yeah, Rachel.”

      “Well, never mind about that now,” he says. “Tell your mom I’m bringing home pizza and I’ve got some exciting news.”

      Hmmm … pizza … exciting news? What a coincidence! We both have exciting news today. Unless his exciting news and my exciting news are the same exciting news! It must be! I mean what else could it be? I bet Mom felt bad and called him, or maybe he heard it on the radio. Well, one thing is for sure, he wants to surprise me and he’s bringing home pizza to celebrate! My dad is so cool!

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      “Tell me now! I can’t wait until you get home,” I squeal.

      “You’re just going to have to wait, but it will be worth it. I promise!” I can hear the smile in his voice.

      Well, that’s proof enough for me; Josh Taylor here I come!

      I’m going crazy waiting for Rachel to call, which hopefully will be soon. I mean this is way too exciting to keep to myself!

      About fifteen minutes later, Dad arrives home with our “celebration pizza.”

      “Hi, honey,” he says, smiling as he puts the box down on the counter.

      “Hi, Dad. I can’t wait to hear your news!” I say, beaming. His smile gets even wider and he throws me a wink. A wink! You know what that means …

      At the table, even though I’m sure I know what’s coming, I’m still sitting on pins and needles, barely tasting my supper,

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