Lara Bergen: Sophie the Zillionaire

Aha! Sophie thought. Mindy did not have a hundred dollars. She knew it. All along.

But Mindy did not stop looking in her backpack. Instead, she started to pull things out.

Things like an extra headband, and a hairbrush, and some little white cards.

“Here. Take one,” Mindy told the girls.

“What are they?” Mia asked.

“My parents’ business cards,” Mindy said. Sophie could tell she was trying to sound grown-up and important as she handed them out.

Sophie read one:

KEN & CINDY VONBOFFMANN

—

NEW & USED CARS

LET US MAKE YOU A DEAL!

Then Mindy pulled out a picture of a pretty lady. She had a big smile and a sash that read “Miss America.” And a very, very tall crown. A fancy name was signed across the bottom. Plus lots of X s and O s.

Mindy handed the picture to Lily. “Be careful with that,” she said.

Lily took it very gently with both hands. “I will,” she said.

Sophie rolled her eyes.

Then Mindy pulled out a little blue notebook. Her name was written on the front in gold. She smiled a tight Mindy smile. “Here it is!”

“That’s not a hundred dollars,” Sophie said. She crossed her arms.

This time, Mindy rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s not. I keep my money in the bank. This is my passbook,” she said.

Oh … Sophie did not know what a passbook was. So she was happy when Mia asked.

“It’s how I keep track of my money, of course,” Mindy explained, as if everyone should know that.

Then she opened the book and pointed to the number one hundred. It was typed in, along with a period and two zeros. Sophie knew that those stood for cents.

Mindy grinned. Her eyes got squinty. “Need more proof? I can have my grandmother write me a note, if you want,” she said.

Sophie sighed. “That’s okay.” She shook her head.

She was very glad that the lights flashed three times right then.

“Hang up those coats, class,” Ms. Moffly, their teacher, called. “It’s time to get to work.”

Sophie walked over and slumped in her seat. Ms. Moffly was right: Sophie did have to get to work. She could not call herself Sophie the Zillionaire when Mindy had more money than she did.

Still, that did not mean she couldn’t be a zillionaire. Not if she really, really tried….

Somehow, Sophie had to turn $69.30 into more than a hundred. And fast!

“I’m so excited! Aren’t you?” Kate said to Sophie as they walked home from the bus stop. Sophie shrugged. “Not really.”

She was staring at the sidewalk, hoping to find fifty more dollars. Or twenty. Or ten. Or even five.

But all she’d found so far was an old, rusty barrette.

“What do you mean ‘not really’? I thought riding horses was your lifelong dream,” Kate said.

Sophie stopped. She looked up at Kate. “Oh, that! Of course!” she said.

She had been thinking so hard about money she’d almost forgotten their big plans. The next day they were going to ride horses!

“Yes! I am super-excited about that,” Sophie said. She had been waiting for that day for almost a week now.

Still, Sophie could not help sighing.

“I just wish I could be Sophie the Zillionaire, too,” she said.

“Why can’t you?” Kate asked.

Sophie frowned. “Because Mindy has a hundred whole dollars. And I have less.” That was the truth.

Kate thought hard. “Why don’t you just ask your grandparents to give you money? Like Mindy’s did,” she suggested.

Sophie stopped for a second. Her grandparents were great. But they thought eight dollars for her eighth birthday was a lot.

(If only she were turning thirty. But that was forever away!)

Sophie shook her head. “Even if my grandparents won the lottery, they would never give me that much,” she said.

Hang on! Sophie thought. What had she just said?

She grabbed Kate’s hand. “That’s it! I know what I’ll do! I’ll make money the old-fashioned way!” she said.

“How?” Kate asked. Her eyes were big.

Sophie swung her hand high in the air. “I’ll win the lottery!”

When Sophie got home, she ran to her room. She got down her horse bank and counted her money again. There was still $69.30. She poked her finger around inside, just in case some money was stuck. She even peeked in with a flashlight. But no. There was no extra money. Oh, well.

Sophie started to put the bank back on her shelf. Then she stopped.

There was a lot of money in that bank. Not a hundred dollars ( yet ). But it was all the money she had in the world. And anyone could get it off her shelf. Her family never really messed with her stuff. She wasn’t worried about them. But what about robbers?!

Sure, they might not know the horse was a bank. It was a good disguise. But it was so pretty they might take it, anyway.

Sophie needed to find a safer place for her bank. But where?

Maybe under her bed? Yes! It was perfect! There was so much dust and old junk no robber would ever look there.

Sophie got down on her knees. She lifted the bed skirt. Then she slid the bank underneath.

There! Her money already seemed safer. She patted her polka-dot bedspread and grinned.

Of course, Sophie bet that when she won the lottery, her money would not all fit in her horse bank. It might not all even fit under her bed. She would probably have to take it to a real bank, like Mindy did. She would miss it then.

Sophie decided to tell her parents about her great lottery idea that night at dinner. She was ready as soon as they sat down. Dinner was always pretty quick, because Max did not stay in his high chair for long.

“Mmm! This looks good,” her dad said.

They were having spaghetti with meat sauce. Sophie liked meatballs better, but Max thought all balls were for throwing. They would probably never have meatballs again.

“Thank you!” Sophie’s mom said. She put a plate in front of Max. Then she sat down quickly and turned to Hayley. “How’s the penny drive coming?” she asked.

Hayley was sprinkling parmesan cheese all over her plate. “Great! We have six pounds already,” she said.

Six pounds? Really? Sophie did not know you could count money that way. How many pounds do I have? she wondered.

She also wondered when Hayley would be done with the cheese.

“Hey,” Sophie said. “Save some for me.”

Her mom gave her a look.

Sophie smiled at her sister. “ Please .”

Hayley slid the cheese over.

There was not a lot left. But that was okay, Sophie guessed. When she won the lottery, she would buy at least six pounds of it.

Oh, right. The lottery!

“Hey, Dad. I have a question,” Sophie said. “Can you take me to get a lottery ticket? Tonight? Please? ”

Her dad chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, Sophie. You have to be eighteen to buy a lottery ticket, I’m afraid,” he said.

“You do?” Sophie said.

That was no fair! Why were grown-ups the only ones who could get rich easily?

“Why do you want a lottery ticket, anyway?” Hayley asked, twirling some spaghetti on her fork.

“I need to make more money. Fast,” Sophie said. She turned back to her dad and shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to buy one for me.”

Sophie’s mom gave her a look. Again.

“ Please! ” Sophie grinned.

But her mom just shook her head. “We are not buying you a lottery ticket, Sophie,” she said. She sounded very sure. And a little grumpy. “Do you know what your chances of winning are?”