Sassy#3- The Silver Secret Summary: Sassy has a secret that she hasn't even told her best friend. But what is NO secret is that Sassy can't sing, and that means she can't be in the school choral production. She simply MUST find a way to be on stage and in the spotlight. When the Sassy Sack goes missing, she is devastated. But when the performance looks like it will fail, Sassy's small silver secret saves the show. Sassy#3- The Silver Secret Hardback   $14.99 Type: Hardback Quantity:  Introduction: Chapter One: Sassy's Silver Secret "I've got a big, huge secret!" I whisper to my friend Jasmine. We are sitting on my sofa, eating popcorn and watching a movie we've seen seventeen times. We quote the lines along with the characters. We know every single word of all the songs. We even sing the songs together, sort of. Well, Jasmine sings. I croak. My singing voice sounds a little like a hyena in pain. Pretty ugly. "So tell me!" Jasmine pleads. She never takes her eyes from the screen. It's almost time for the next song. "I can't," I explain. It's a secret!" "Is it a good one or a bad one?" she asks me. "Oooh, absolutely the best." I giggle a little as I think about it. "I can't wait to hear it!" she says. She turns her head to look at me. "I can't tell you!" I say with frustration. She tosses some popcorn at my head. "So why did you even mention it?" "Because I think I'll explode if I don't tell somebody, and you're my best friend." "I'd hate for you to blow up. What's the secret?" "I can't say. Not yet." "Why not?" "It's complicated," I tell her with a sigh. Jasmine and I share everything. Green-glittery nail polish. Orange bangle bracelets. Stickers with hearts and flowers. Shoes. And secrets. Well, most of the time. I feel bad I can't tell her yet. The television screen fills with the kids from the movie. It's time for "The Moonlight and Peppermint Song." Jasmine, whose voice sounds all silvery and soprano just like the cute teenaged girl who has the lead in the film, begins to sing. "Moonlight brings magic . . . ," she begins. I join in loudly, ". . . to all peppermint dreams, . . ." I must be part screech owl. "Stop, Sassy!" Jasmine says with a laugh. "Your voice makes me need earmuffs!" "I know. I know," I admit. "I love music. It's not fair I can't sing." "Let's just listen to the kids in the movie, okay?" Jasmine says. She continues to sing with the music in the film. Even though I know all the words, I don't even hum. Somebody might think a cow got loose in our house if I hummed along. The good-looking guy and the attractive girl end up singing happily in the moonlight, dreaming of peppermints and romance. The movie credits roll as the instrumental version of all the songs are repeated. Jasmine asks me, "Do want to watch it again?" "Not right now," I tell her. "You want a piece of candy?" "Like, do you have to ask?" she says as she holds out her hand. "I know you've got candy and glitter and stickers and probably a million other things stuffed down in that purse of yours." "Maybe two million," I tell her with a grin. I carry what I call my Sassy Sack every single day--my wonderful, glorious, beautifully shiny handbag. It's purple and silver and pink and magenta. It has a long shoulder strap, several outside compartments with buttons and zippers, and lots of little hidden pockets inside. It has diamond-looking sparkly things all over it, and when I'm outside and the sunlight hits it just right, it really shines. Even I'm not sure all that's in there, but I know when I reach down into it, I always seem to find exactly what I need. I dig into my Sassy Sack and pull out two Jolly Ranchers-both grape. "Purple, of course!" Jasmine says. "My favorite color. My favorite flavor," I answer as I pop the unwrapped candy into my mouth at the same time she does. "Yum!" we say together. "So, you're not going to tell me your secret?" Jasmine asks once more. "I can tell you this much," I say. "It's about the choir. I'm going to be in the show." "Sassy, you're my BFF, but face it-you're not the best singer in the world. To tell the truth-you're probably the worst singer on the planet!" We both laugh. Just then my twelve-year-old brother Sabin comes into the living room, grabs the remote, and switches the television to the sports channel. "Sabin!" we both cry out. "We were here first!" "Aw, quit complaining," he says. "Your movie is over. I heard you two giggling at the love scenes." "We were not!" Jasmine declares. But we both know he's telling the truth. Sabin continues, "I also heard you trying to sing with the music. Sassy, I think you broke my ears!" We both throw sofa pillows at him, but he just laughs, ducks, and turns up the volume on the basketball game. I grab my Sassy Sack, Jasmine brings the rest of the popcorn, and we head upstairs to my room. I love my room. It's messy, but classy. I have a pale lavender bedspread, matching curtains, and rose-colored walls. The carpet is ugly and brown. I can't do much about that, so Mom bought me pink and purple throw rugs to cover it up. They help-a little. Jasmine flops on my bed. "Let's do our nails!" she suggests. On my desk I have seven different colors of sparkly nail polish. In my Sassy Sack I keep three more-just in case I need to do my nails in the car or at the mall. "Great idea. What color?" I ask her. "Silver!" she says. "Doesn't the word silver sound special and shiny?" That's why Jasmine is my best friend. We think alike. I pull the silver glitter polish from my Sassy Sack and we take turns carefully painting each other's nails, and then our toes. My sixteen-year-old sister Sadora comes into my room. She's pretty like a model, can sing like a nightingale, and always gets the lead in the plays at her school. Our whole family goes to every single performance and cheers her on. "Did you borrow my red nail polish, Little Sister?" she asks. Sometimes my family calls me Little Sister and sometimes they call me Sassy. I like it so much better when they call me by my real name. "Your red polish is in the bathroom," I tell her. "It was all dried up and yucky, so I didn't touch it," I tell her. She sighs. "Well, can I borrow your red sparkly polish, Sassy? I see you and Jasmine are into silver today." "Okay," I tell her, "but be sure to put the top back on real tight when you're done!" I reach into my Sassy Sack, pull out a brand new bottle of "Romantic Red" and hand it to her slowly. She grabs it and hurries out of my room. "I wish I had an older sister," Jasmine says. "I just have a little brother." "Be glad you're the oldest," I tell her. "Most of the time I'm invisible around here. Usually she doesn't even ask to borrow my stuff-she just grabs what she needs. Sometimes she forgets to return it." "Yeah, but she's sixteen. She must know everything about teachers and boys and parents and stuff!" Jasmine's voice sounded wishful. "It's possible," I tell Jasmine, "but she's never told me any of that." We add a second coat of silver polish. "You know the tryouts for the school musical are held after school tomorrow," Jasmine says. "So I won't be riding home on the bus with you. My mom is going to pick me up." "Uh, I might stick around and watch," I say real casually. "Okay. My mom can take us both home then," she says. "So," I say as we are waiting for our pinkies to dry, "when Mr. Wood calls people on stage for tryouts, what part do you want?" Jasmine smiles. "I'd love to sing the ocean song. It makes me think about the wind blowing on a sailboat when we sing it in class." "You'd be great for that part," I tell her honestly. "But what about you, Sassy? Won't you get tired just sitting there listening to other people sing?" "I want to watch the tryouts because maybe I can figure out a way to be in the show." "Doing what?" "I'm not sure yet, but there's got to be something I can do so I can be on stage." "What about your secret?" Jasmine asks. "It's cool, but I don't think it will get me a part in the concert," I tell her sadly. "So when are you going to tell me?" "Soon," I say. "I promise." Just then Sabin's dog trots into my room. "Sabin! Come and get your dog! He smells like old fish!" I cry. Zero, a brown beagle, jumps up on my bed and smears the silver polish on my little finger. "Sabin! Hurry up! He's messing up my nail polish!" "When did Sabin get a dog?" Jasmine asks. She jumps up so her nails are out of the dog's way. "A couple of weeks ago. His friend Raphael moved to New York. His new house is an apartment and he couldn't keep the dog. So Sabin begged Mom and Dad to let him adopt Zero." "Zero?" "Yep. I think that's his brain score. I've never seen a goofier animal." "Your parents actually agreed to let Sabin have the dog?" Parents always say no to that kind of stuff. "I know. Mom and Dad told Sabin they'd give him a month to see if he does what he promised about feeding it and taking it outside." "What about bathing it?" Jasmine covered her nose. "Dream on." I fix my polish while the dog sniffs under my bed. "Haven't you been asking for a cocker spaniel since your last birthday?" "I sure have. But Daddy says Zero will be the family dog if he fits in. That's just so not fair!" Sabin rushes into my room. "C'mon, Zero! It's time for your bath!" The dog bounds out with an old pink sock in his mouth. He runs down the hall as if he understood what Sabin said. "Come back, Zero!" Sabin calls after him. "Maybe he's not so stupid after all!" Jasmine says with a laugh. "Oh, yes he is. He eats socks." "Huh?" "You know how socks always get lost in the wash?" "Yeah." "Well, ever since that dog got here, we don't have that problem. Zero eats them before they have a chance to get lost. " "That's the funniest thing I ever heard!" "I've watched him do it. He starts at the toe, then unravels it and pulls it apart, and gobbles it a chunk at a time." "What does he eat?" "Besides socks? None of that dry brown food my mother buys. The dog likes fruits and veggies. Stuff like broccoli, lemons, onions, and tomatoes. Jasmine is rolling on the floor with laughter. "And then, of course, he throws up." "Oh, yuck!" "Yesterday Zero threw up in the living room. Blue socks and green peas and red pizza sauce." "Disgusting!" "Yep, a multicolor mess. The dog ran and hid under the bed. And Sabin had to clean it up!" Jasmine is still laughing when her mother comes to pick her up. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, Sassy," she says, wiping tears from her eyes.