On a Slippery Slope Page 7

  I run up onto the set yelling, “Call 911!” Then I yank Mary-Lou up from her seat, wrap my arms around her waist from behind, tip her forward, and press my balled-up fist between her belly­button and her ribs. I quickly start thrusting my fist up into her diaphragm. Somehow the adrenaline in my body has given me super-human strength. Mary-Lou is in the air and her feet are dangling like a rag doll’s. After a couple more thrusts, the cough drop torpedoes out of her mouth, narrowly missing Gwendolyn, who has just arrived on set with Phillip, the station owner. The set breaks into wild applause. Mary-Lou, looking embarrassed, gets up from her seat. “I’ll be back in a moment, folks, I just need a second to catch my breath.” Mary-Lou stumbles off the set, leaving me staring into the camera, red-faced, and wondering what to do next.

  11

  On the Air with Messy Hair

  “We’re still on air! Cut to commercial!” Andy orders into her mouthpiece.

  “And with all this excitement, I think we’ll take a break and let our sponsors entertain you for a few minutes.” Ron smiles at the camera. “Don’t go away. We’ll be right back!”

  “Someone check on Mary-Lou!” Sue cries out.

  “Hannah, you were amazing!” Andy says, running over to me.

  “Get that girl off the set!” Gwendolyn yells. “Just look at her hair!” she adds in disgust.

  Suddenly, I remember that I didn’t make it to hair and make up. I must be a mess. No wonder Gwendolyn is so furious.

  “Why didn’t you cut to commercial, Andy?”

  Gwendolyn barks, “What kind of operation are you running here, anyway?”

  “Everyone just calm down!” Phillip yells.

  The room goes silent.

  “Gracie, please do something with Hannah’s hair.” Phillip points in my direction.

  As ordered, Gracie from hair and makeup rushes over with a brush and starts furiously pulling it through my hair.

  “Okay, Hannah,” Phillip says, his face, gravely serious, “we need you back on set.”

  “But why?”

  Phillip’s face softens. “Hannah, what just happened on air was kind of a big deal! You are kind of a big deal. You just saved someone’s life. You’re a hero. Not to mention the fact that we have no choice but to address what just happened. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” I try to nod, but my head is being pulled back by the brush. Ouch.

  “So, are you okay? Do you think you can handle this?” Andy asks.

  “Sure,” I reply, feeling terrified and excited at the same time.

  “But Phillip!” Gwendolyn interjects.

  “Great!” Phillip grins. “Hannah, get yourself up on set.”

  “Mary-Lou is out for the rest of the newscast,” Sue whispers to me.

  “Looks like you’ll be filling in.”

  “What?” This is crazy! “Fill in for Mary-Lou?”

  “Hannah, the show is almost over. We just want you to answer a few questions. Are you okay? Are you ready for this?” Ron asks, peering into my eyes.

  I shrug. “I guess.”

  “Oh come on, Hannah,” Phillip prods. “You can do better than that. Ask her again, Ron,” Phillip orders.

  “Are you ready, Hannah?” Ron asks.

  “I was born ready,” I reply, sounding way more confident than I am.

  “That’s what I thought,” Phillip says triumphantly. “Ron and Sue, you know what to do.”

  Sue smiles. “We sure do.”

  “Ten … nine … eight … seven … six … five … four …” Andy silently finishes the countdown with her fingers, then nods. We’re on the air.

  “And we’re back after what I’m sure everyone would agree was quite an amazing display!” Ron says into the camera.

  “Yes, Ron, I couldn’t agree more!” Sue responds. “We knew we were lucky to have Hannah on our staff — we just didn’t realize how lucky!”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say lucky,” I break in. “I mean, I gave Mary-Lou that cough drop in the first place, right?”

  “Yes … but um … if she didn’t have that cough drop, she couldn’t have done her newscast, now could she?” Sue argues, smiling.

  “But then I told her that joke,” I argue, smiling back.

  “But the joke wasn’t that funny,” Sue says, sounding a little frustrated.

  “Oh, Hannah,” Ron cuts in, “It doesn’t matter who gave what to whom and why Mary-Lou started choking.”

  “It doesn’t?” I ask, wondering why they want me up here if they don’t want to talk about the whole thing.

  “All that matters is that she’s alive,” Ron says, smiling a little uncomfortably. “You realize you’re a hero, right?”

  I look over at Andy who is staring at me wide-eyed and doing some weird Wheels-on-the-Bus action with her hands. What does she mean? I look at Ron and Sue who look like they both need to (for lack of a better word) poop, and realize that they all want the same thing — they want me to play along, to accept the fact that everyone thinks I’m a hero, even though in reality, I almost killed a woman. Whatever … this is showbiz. “Well, thank you, Ron, for saying so, but I just did what anyone else with training would have done.”

  “Fair point. So, now that you’ve brought up the matter of training, tell us a little bit about yours. I mean, it’s obvious you’ve had some, right?”

  They are all staring at me, waiting for my response. They want me to brag. I hate bragging, but I do love attention. Wait, does that mean I love to brag? Oh … it doesn’t matter. I’ll just answer the questions truthfully and hopefully I won’t look like a complete show-offy loser.

  “Yes, Ron. Last year, I took some courses in First Aid and CPR.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Ron says, admiringly.

  “I think everyone should,” I say, looking into the camera. “I mean, you never know when you are going to need it, right?”

  Ron nods enthusiastically. “I totally agree. You are a very smart young lady.”

  “Hmm … Ron, I’ve noticed that you really love those Ultra-Unstoppable-Colossal-Bacon-Cheeseburgers from The Burger Zone.”

  “Yes …” he replies warily.

  “And their fries.”

  Ron nods.

  “And their gravy.”

  Ron nods again.

  “And their milkshakes, and actually all junk food in general, really.”

  Ron glances at me with a slight frown and then flashes a huge smile at the camera. “Yes, Hannah, but did you also notice, I always order diet cola? Totally sugar-free.”

  “Oh, Ron,” I say, shaking my head. “Diet cola is filled with artificial sweetener.”

  “So, where are you going with this?” Ron’s smile is starting to fade. I think he might be getting annoyed.

  “Well, that’s a lot of unhealthy, artery-clogging food you’re feeding your body.”

  Ron shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Okay.”

  “Not to worry, Ron! If all of that junk you eat suddenly causes you to have a heart attack and you need someone to give you CPR or zap you back to life with a defibrillator, then I’m your girl!”

  “Good to know.” Ron frowns.

  “Well, thanks for tuning in to News at Five on Channel Nine.” Sue says, beaming into the camera. “See you back here tomorrow — same time, same channel.”

  The ON AIR sign goes out.

  “Thanks everyone,” Andy says to the crew.

  “Hannah, you did great,” Sue says as we walk off set.

  “Oh, thanks.” I smile.

  “But you know, you kind of threw Ron to the dogs up there.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you sort of made him sound like a junk- food junkie.”

  “But he is a junk-food junkie!” I protest.

  “I know that, but the rest of the world doesn’t need to know.”

  “I’m sorry, Sue!”

  Sue points at Ron, who’s looking down at his belly and shaking his head. “It’s not me you need to apologize to, sweetie.
”

  Ron looks up. Oh great, he just caught me staring at him staring at his belly! I’m making it worse!

  “Great show today. Thanks for helping us out,” he calls over.

  I force my lips up into a smile. “No problem.”

  I can’t believe I’ve done it again. Me and my big fat mouth.

  “Andy, I need to speak to you and Gwendolyn immediately,” Phillip says, directing them to his office.

  “I’m so sorry, Phillip,” Gwendolyn whispers, scooting behind him.

  He throws his hand up as if to say I don’t want to hear your excuses.

  Gwendolyn turns away from Phillip, and shoots Andy a venomous glare. “I can’t believe you let this happen,” she hisses.

  Poor Andy. This is all my fault.

  Phillip motions with his hand. “Come on Andy. We’ve got a lot to discuss!”

  The three of them go inside. The door slams, making me jump. I’m guessing it was Gwendolyn who closed it. She’s obviously furious.

  I’m tempted to run up, bang on the door, and plead Andy’s case. After all, how was she to know when she hired me that I would nearly kill one anchor, and then jump up on set with snaky hair and accuse another one of being on the verge of congestive heart failure? I have to tell them!

  Just as I’m about to rap my knuckles on the door, my phone rings.

  “Hannah. It’s Mom.”

  “Hi, Mom. Oh my gosh, did you see the show?”

  “Of course I saw it! You were magnificent!”

  “What? No I wasn’t.”

  “Sweetie, I won’t keep you because I know you are busy at work, but I just couldn’t wait until you got home to tell you how proud I am! You rocked it, girl!”

  “Mom … it was a disaster. I’ll talk to you about it when I get home, okay? Right now I have to do some damage control.”

  I’m about to knock for the second time when, from behind the closed door, I hear an angry Gwendolyn cry, “But Phillip!”

  I hear Andy’s muffled voice. “It’s your decision, Phillip.”

  “But Phillip!” Gwendolyn insists again.

  “I want this, Gwen. I need you to make it happen,” Phillip says sternly.

  The door to Phillip’s office opens, banging me on the nose.

  “Eavesdropping?” Gwendolyn frowns. “I guess we can add that to the list.”

  “Hannah, I’m glad you’re here.” Andy motions for me to enter. “Please come in.”“What’s going on?” I ask. Everyone looks so serious. This is bad.

  “Well, Hannah,” Gwendolyn starts, “as you know, I wasn’t in favour of hiring you.”

  “No, you weren’t, but okay,” I reply.

  “In spite of your hair,” Gwendolyn says, rolling her eyes in disgust, “Andy insisted that we give you a try.”

  “It’s not Andy’s fault!” I cry out. “How could she have known how much trouble I’d cause?”

  They all stare at me, mouths open. “Please don’t fire her! I’ll resign. I’ll quit today!”

  “Hannah!” Gwendolyn snaps. “What are you going on about? We don’t want you to quit.”

  “Well, is Andy going to be fired?”

  “No!” Phillip finally jumps in. “Today’s show was brilliant! One of our best yet! You were simply fantastic!”

  “Hannah,” Gwendolyn says, her face serious, “we are trying to grow our viewership.”

  “Huh?”

  “We are trying to diversify,” she continues.

  “Hannah,” Andy cuts in, “you were amazing today. Your face is made for the camera and you have incredible stage presence like your dad. You are a natural.”

  “I am?”

  “A diamond in the rough, so to speak.” Gwendolyn frowns.

  “Gwendolyn.” Phillip wags his finger at her.

  “We want to offer you a spot on our team,” Andy says, breaking into a huge grin.

  “I’m already on the team. I’m your production assistant,” I say, confused.

  “Hannah,” Gwendolyn says impatiently, “we’d like you to help us to grow our younger audience. Basically, we want to offer you a weekly segment on the show. It will air every Friday.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll be learning to do something along with the viewers at home. Say, for instance, how to administer CPR or how to use that defibrillator thingy.” Gwendolyn waves her hand in the air.

  “Or …” Andy cuts in, “you could learn how to make homemade ice cream in a Ziploc bag, or how to make a funky scarf out of an old cut-up T-shirt.”

  I jump in, “Or lip gloss, bath bombs, or gummy bear popsicles!”

  “Exactly!” Andy beams.

  “But you want me?”

  “You’re perfect,” Phillip says, grinning affectionately, “Messy hair and all.”

  12

  A Whole Lot of Nothing

  “Hannah, are you ready?” A.J. says, breaking my trance.

  OMG … have I been staring at him this whole time? That little touch of windburn on his cheeks is making him look cuter than ever; I just can’t help myself.

  “For what?”

  “Um … last time I checked you were still our minutes-taker.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, opening up my notebook to a clean page. I scribble the date at the top. “Have I missed anything?” I whisper to Gabby, who has been staring at Marcel, a boy who moved here from France exactly nine days ago.

  She has been listing new reasons every day for why Marcel is perfect — today’s reason (number nine): he smells like heaven — fresh, clean, and sooo outdoorsy. With every whiff, she falls more deeply and hopelessly in love. She thinks he has to be wearing cologne that you can only get in France because boys around here don’t smell that ah-maaazing. I agree he smells good, but I think it’s just body spray from Hollister — I mean, he smells just like the store.

  “I haven’t been paying attention.” Gabby giggles.

  “I noticed,” I reply, nodding in Marcel’s direction.

  Just so you know, he’s cute, but nowhere near as cute as A.J.

  “Hannah, did you catch that?” A.J. asks, loudly.

  “Um … fundraising ideas,” I say, scribbling the words on my paper.

  “Yes, but I’m wondering about your ideas. You said you’d have some good ones, remember?”

  “I did?” I squish up my nose.

  “Wow, Hannah!” Chloe barks. “You know you did! We were depending on you!”

  With working at the station and trying to invent reasons for why I haven’t been able to go skiing with the group, I completely forgot!

  “Um, what about a car wash?” I blurt out.

  “Very funny, Hannah,” A.J. says, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Oh yeah, it might get a little cold.” I chuckle.

  “Well, how about a …” I trail off because I have absolutely nothing.

  “Well, how about a — what?” Chloe shouts. “I told you she would do this, A.J., didn’t I? Didn’t I?”

  “Just give her a chance, Chloe,” A.J. says, looking irritated. “I’m sure she has some other ideas.”

  “This is a complete waste of time.” Chloe says. “She probably can’t even ski!”

  “What!” Gabby yelps. “Hannah can totally ski!” She looks at me, open-mouthed, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. I stare back blankly — I mean, what else can I do?

  “You’re wrong, Chloe!” Gabby roars. “You don’t know anything about Hannah!”

  Ivy, who’s sitting on the other side of Chloe, purses her duck-lips. “And you do?”

  “I do!” Gabby nods with all of the confidence in the world. “Hannah is awesome! And you would be lucky … lucky, I tell you, to snowboard half as well as she does!”

  “Seriously?” Ivy rolls her eyes. “She hasn’t been up to the hill once. Don’t you wonder why?”

  “In case you forgot,” Gabby says, wagging her finger at Ivy and Chloe, “Hannah has been a little busy with her new job. Did you know
it takes her a full week to prepare for her show, which is amazing, by the way.” Gabby throws a wink in my direction. “Plus, she’s got tae kwon do training — she’s working toward her black belt!”

  (So, truthfully, I’m a few belts away from a black belt — actually, I’m only a white belt, but hey, you have to start somewhere, right? And earning a black belt requires hard work, sacrifice, and lots of practice — something I remind Gabby of whenever she doesn’t like one of my reasons for why I can’t go skiing. It seems to work, too, because every time I mention tae kwon do, she not only stops bugging me, but she insists that I am, without a doubt, the most dedicated person she knows.)

  “Also,” Gabby continues, “she has to keep up with homework, and she volunteers at the old age home …”

  (Okay, technically, I don’t volunteer at the old age home, my mom does. Sometimes, when Dad is working late, I stop in after work to get a ride home. I usually visit a sweet old lady named Doris, who gives me cookies her daughter has baked for her. This week it was snickerdoodles — so yummy.)

  “… and if that isn’t enough,” Gabby yells, stomping her foot, “she has to deal with her poor mother who has been completely stressing out over moving away from the only home she’s ever known!”

  (For the record, my mom isn’t really that stressed out. But, in Gabby’s defence, I did kind of tell her last week that I couldn’t go skiing because my mom really needed me to organize my room. I might have slightly exaggerated when I said I had to rearrange everything in my closet and drawers, again for the fifth time, because Mom wanted everything neat and orderly, and perfectly arranged in order of the colours of the rainbow. Gabby said, “Your mom is totally wigging out. She’s, like, way too strict!” I probably should have argued, or at least tried to defend my mom, but I didn’t. Oh gosh, I know it sounds awful, but Gabby was all, “Enough is enough! You need to come with us to the hill, and I’m not taking no for an answer!” As soon as I gave her that excuse, she stopped. She felt sorry for me, which is great, but I felt so guilty that I ended up organizing everything anyway. On the bright side, my closet looks great!)