That evening, Piper and Reese came over for what was supposed to be a regular hangout but turned into an emergency business meeting. I’d called them in a panic after doing my math homework—I mean, my business calculations.
“Okay, so you need to make way more money,” Piper said, sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor with her notebook out. She always took notes during our conversations, like she was documenting my life for future historians. “What if you opened another location?”
“There’s only one of me,” I pointed out. “Unless you know something about cloning that I don’t.”
“Right.” She crossed that out. “What about hiring employees?”
Reese snorted. “Who’s going to work for candy bars as payment?”
“Jake would,” I said. “But then I’d spend all my profits replacing the inventory he’d eat.”
“Fair point.” Piper made another note. “Okay, what about… a delivery service? You could bike around the neighborhood!”
I pictured myself pedaling around town with a cooler strapped to my bike, trying to balance while dodging cars and angry dogs. “That sounds like a great way to end up as roadkill.”
“Or what about selling online?” Reese suggested. “My cousin sells friendship bracelets on some website.”
“How exactly do you ship a cold soda?” I asked. “By the time it gets there, it’ll be warm soda soup.”
We sat in silence for a moment, stumped. I was starting to think maybe Florida wasn’t meant to be. Maybe I should just accept that I’d be spending the rest of the summer watching Jake’s amateur magic shows in our backyard.
“Wait,” Piper said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “What made your best sales days so good?”
“The tournament,” I said immediately. “Lots of people in one place.”
“Exactly!” She was getting that excited look she got when she figured out a hard math problem. “The tournament brought customers to you. What if you could create your own event? Something that would bring people to the park?”
My brain started spinning. She was right. I’d made my best money when there were crowds. But how could I create my own crowd?
“Like what kind of event?” Reese asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Piper said, “but it has to be something people want to come to. Something fun.”
I thought about all the times my family had gone to events in the park. The summer concerts that Mom dragged us to. The craft fairs that Dad pretended to enjoy. The community events that always drew big crowds.
Something clicked in my brain.
A lightbulb went off in my head so bright I was surprised it didn’t actually illuminate the room. I could practically see the whole thing: families spread out in the park, kids running around, everyone having fun and wanting snacks and drinks.
“I think I’ve got it,” I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. I didn’t want to jinx it by saying too much too soon.
“What is it?” Piper demanded. “Tell us!”
“Come on, Kiora!” Reese added, bouncing on her knees. “You can’t just say you have an idea and then not tell us!”
I took a deep breath. They were right.
“Okay,” I said, sitting back down on the floor. “Here’s what I’m thinking…”