My Life in Pink & Green

by Lisa Greenwald

  “Is my outfit okay?”

  I step back a little so I can get a good look. She’s looking especially cute today in her dark jeans and her velvety green top. “Yeah, you look really cute. Want me to do your makeup for you?”

  Sunny makes a face at me like she’s sick of this question. Ever since I helped Courtney with her hair trauma, I’ve been itching to give someone a makeover.

  “Come on, Sun. Just a little blush. And some Pink Lollipop lip-gloss. I am so obsessed with it. It smells delicious! And let me dab some of that glitter eye shadow on your lids.”

  She immediately moves her hand to rub her eye. “No, I don’t want to wear that stuff.”

  “It’ll be so pretty, Sunny. It’ll be like your eyes are dressed up!” I move closer to her. “Did I tell you I’m doing Cassandra’s sister’s makeup?”

  “No.” She looks away from the mirror and back at me. “Do you really think I need makeup?”

  I sigh, loudly. “No, you don’t need it. I’ve told you that a million times. You’re so pretty naturally that it’d just be a finishing touch.” I smile at her. “Don’t be weird.”

  She flops herself down on her back on my bed. “You’re the weird one. You’re, like, super tense and angry all the time lately.”

  Now, I know that’s not true. And even if it is a tiny bit true, maybe Sunny should understand why. I mean, my family is practically bankrupt. But Sunny’s also going through a hard time. Having a crush isn’t easy; I saw what it did to Claudia once, when she was into this guy Barry. I try to keep that in mind instead of getting mad.

  “When’s your mom getting here?” I ask, to change the subject.

  “When she’s done buying her products at your pharmacy,” Sunny says, getting up from the bed. She starts pacing around my room. “Hey, what’s this?” She picks the grant application up off my desk. “Going Green Grant?”

  Sunny and I are so close that we never worry about looking through each other’s stuff. I probably should’ve hidden the grant, though, because now it’s going to take forever to explain. “Oh, I found it the other day at Earth Club when we were researching green businesses online.” I take another look at myself in my full-length mirror. I can’t wait for my new sneakers! They are going to look amazing with the jeans I’m wearing.

  “The print is so small. It’s like you need a PhD to understand it.”

  I laugh. “I know. I probably won’t bother with it. We don’t have that much time, and it’s, like, written in a foreign language. I can’t bug my mom and grandma with that now.”

  She shrugs. “Yeah, if it was something for kids, Mrs. Deleccio would have told us about it. Don’t ya think?”

  “You’re probably right. She knows everything earthy going on around here,” I say. “Let’s go wait for your mom.” We go downstairs, and Sunny asks me seven times if I think that Evan will ever like her. Every time, I say yes. Truth is, I don’t know Evan Mass that well. But I do know Sunny, and she’s very likable.

  I wish she could just relax and talk to him like a normal person. Then who knows what could happen?

  Don’t be afraid to dream and experiment.

  –Laura Mercier

  is just as bad as I thought it’d be. Yamir and his friends Clint and Anthony put their sweaty faces against the car windows and then comment that the imprints of their cheeks on the windows look like butts.

  At the mall, Sunny and I make our first stop at the food court. We do this for two reasons. One, it’s a place where we can hang out and no one will think we’re stalkers or weirdos. Two—which is obvious—we’re hungry! We get pizza and Chinese food, and we share both. And afterward, we get frozen custard for dessert.

  The food’s fine and everything, but so far we haven’t seen Evan at all. I’m not worried, though. We still have a while.

  “Where do you think Evan shops?” Sunny asks me gloomily.

  I shake my head at her. “Sun, I don’t think he really shops. I think he just hangs out.”

  “Really?”

  I don’t understand Sunny’s surprise. Did she really think that seventh-grade boys like to shop? “Come on.” I grab her hand and pull her. “We gotta go buy my sneaks.”

  “What kind of sneakers are you gonna get?” she asks me. She’s already asked me this three times today. Her mind is obviously somewhere else.

  “Navy Converse. I told you that,” I say as we’re walking into Sneaker Shack.

  She shrugs.

  “Can I help you two?” a young guy, probably about twenty-two, asks us.

  “I’d like navy Converse, the low-tops, in a size five,” I tell him.

  “Wow. You’re a girl who knows what she wants,” the guy says, laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

  He’s right; I am a girl who knows what she wants, and not only when it comes to sneakers. But knowing you want new sneakers and then getting them is pretty easy. Knowing you want to save your family business might be easy, but actually saving it is far from it.

  I’m a lot like my mom when it comes to determination. But sometimes my mom’s determination gets in the way of her seeing reality. And my grandma is kind of the opposite. She’s too realistic, and that gets in the way of her having any kind of drive to make a change.

  I think I’m a good combination of both.

  As we’re waiting for the guy to come back, Sunny and I sit on the store’s seats that are made to look like bleachers, like we’re at a real game. I’m trying to nonchalantly stare out the store window and look for Evan. No sign of him so far.

  “I brought two sizes,” the sneaker man says. “Five, and five and a half. Just in case.”

  “Oh, thanks, but I know I need the five,” I tell him. “I tried them on last week at Athlete Zone, but I’d rather buy them here.”

  The sneaker man gives me a confused look, like he has no idea what I’m talking about. I thought he’d be happy that I’m supporting the independent store. Oh well. “Follow me to the register, and you’ll be all set,” he says.

  I am so excited about these sneakers. Getting new sneakers is making a big change in your life, getting a fresh start. That’s why everyone gets new sneakers for the new school year, I think.

  New sneakers change the outfits you choose to wear, because you want to wear stuff that goes with them. New sneakers are like a whole new beginning. I’ll look at them, and they’ll be all clean and new and perfect, and I think seeing them will empower me. Who knows, maybe they’ll even help me have a better perspective on everything at the pharmacy. I know they’re just sneakers, but a new beginning is a new beginning, even if it’s just a new beginning for your feet.

  I wish my mom and grandma could have something like this. Something to give them a new outlook, a new way to see our pharmacy and the influence it has on our community.

  Maybe we all just need new Converse. Maybe it’s simpler than we realize.

  “That’ll be forty-five sixty-three,” he says. “I gave you the student discount.”

  I hand him the card. “Here ya go,” I say, sounding like Grandma.

  He goes to the back to run it through the credit card machine. I turn to Sunny and say, “I bet we’re gonna see the boys right after this. I bet you they went to the video game store right around the corner.”

  “Maybe.” Sunny shrugs, not sounding worried about whether we see the boys or not.

  “Um,” the sneaker man says when he gets back. “Hmmm. The card didn’t work.”

  “Oh, I have a signed note that I have permission to use it. But if you still need more evidence, the credit card company has my name on file.”

  He straightens his glasses and looks down at the card. “No, I believe you. But the card was actually declined,” the man says. For the first time I notice he has the most nasal voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s so skinny I really can’t imagine him playing any sport, so it’s funny that he works in a sneaker store.

  I turn to look at Sunny, and she raises her shoulders like her neck is shrinkin
g. She looks squirmy and uncomfortable. I can’t believe this is happening right now. In front of Sunny, at the mall.

  “Well, um, try it again,” I say, smiling confidently. “I bet it was, like, a mistake.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marnie Kastman browsing in the tennis section. If Marnie Kastman’s here, then Erica Crane isn’t too far away. Oh God, no. Why do they have to be here right now? And why does this have to happen to me in the first place? My mom’s not even here to handle it.

  Having your credit card declined is like writing on your forehead that your family doesn’t have any money.

  “Sorry, I tried it five times,” he says, even more nasal now than before. “Why don’t you come back with your mom later, okay? I’ll hold these for you.”

  My chest is getting tight, and my whole body is starting to feel like a boiling pot of chicken soup. “I can’t come back later. My mom’s at work. And I really want these sneakers,” I whisper, so Marnie doesn’t hear me. I wish this guy could realize how important these sneakers are.

  “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll hold them. I’ll even hold them until next week,” he says. “Really. They won’t go anywhere.”

  “Um, well.” I look over at my beautiful sneakers on the counter, so clean and perfect in their cardboard box. I bet Marnie and Erica are gonna get new sneakers today, wear them tomorrow, and I’ll still be wearing my ratty old New Balances. “Okay. Thanks,” I mumble.

  “Sorry, Lucy,” Sunny says, putting her arm around me as we leave the store. “But don’t worry. You’ll still get them.”

  “Yeah.” But this is way more devastating than just missing out on a pair of new sneakers. It feels like all the prospects of a new beginning just melted away and are now sitting on the mall floor, ready to be mopped up and thrown in the garbage. There’s no new start for me, no fresh addition to my wardrobe.

  What if that’s exactly what happens to the pharmacy too? Maybe being hopeful about small things like the Relaxation Room is a complete waste, because the potential for things to get better can disappear in a matter of seconds. I look at Sunny. I can’t tell her any of this; she just wouldn’t understand.

  I take my cell phone out of my jeans pocket and dial Mom’s cell.

  No answer. Next, I try the pharmacy.

  “Mom!” I exclaim as soon as she answers. “The credit card was declined. Again.”

  “Lucy, oh, there must be something wrong with Mastercard’s computer system again. I’ll call them. Okay?”

  “Mom, I need those sneakers,” I plead. “You promised. Remember?”

  “Lucy, not now, please. I have stuff to do. We’ll discuss this later. I love you.” She hangs up before I even have a chance to say “I love you” back. Not that I even feel like saying it right now.

  Sunny doesn’t know what it’s like for a credit card to be declined. I bet that’s never even happened to her ever, or to her parents. But it happened to me today. And it happened to Mom last week at the grocery store. How horrible is that? Like, we don’t even have enough money to eat? Now that’s embarrassing.

  For a few minutes I feel horrible. What exactly happens when a credit card gets declined? Will we get in trouble? All of these worries are swirling around in my head, but then I force myself to put those feelings away. We’re here to find Evan, and I need to be a good friend. Being depressed about the stupid sneakers and the stupid credit card isn’t going to make me feel better anyway.

  “Maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t get Converse for seventh grade,” I tell Sunny. When things like this happen, I always need to find a way to make sense of them. “Maybe I should get something different, like Asics, something no one else has.”

  “Maybe.” She smiles.

  “Or maybe—” Right there, right in the middle of the west wing of Waterview Mall, right as we’re walking past the store where Sunny and I got our ears pierced in third grade, we spot Evan.

  “There he is. There he is! Cinnamon!” Sunny says through clenched teeth. She grabs my hand and practically falls to the floor, dragging me down with her.

  “Okay, shh! Come on.” I take her hand, and we walk slowly to the benches right outside of Mommy-to-Be Maternity. We scooch down next to one of the benches, and I hand Sunny a mall directory pamphlet so we can pretend to be reading.

  “Read,” I say to Sunny.

  “Who’s he here with?” she asks. Her teeth are clenched so tight I’m worried they’re going to crack in half.

  “I can’t see. Give me a second.”

  I peer out and over the bench a little so I can see Evan and his friends. He’s with the twins Tyler and Brent, and also Tim and Wade.

  I tell Sunny, and she immediately says, “Let’s go home. Come on, I’ll call Yamir on his cell, and we’ll call my mom. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

  “Sunny, why?” I ask, confused.

  “I don’t want to see him. He’s gross.”

  I lower my eyes and glare at her. “He is so not gross.”

  “Please, Lucy. Please,” she says. “I don’t think I like him anymore. And I can feel my skin breaking out right now from the stress.”

  “How can you say that?” I ask, ignoring her breakout comment. “We came here today to see him. You wanted to come here. You made up a code name. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to anymore,” she whines. “Really, I don’t even know why I like him.”

  “We came here, and we’re going to talk to them,” I declare. “Seriously. Stop being like this.” Maybe I’m being too harsh with her, but there’s no point in her acting like this. It’s just stupid.

  She says, “Let’s just get up and pretend we didn’t even see them. We’ll walk away, do some browsing at Saks, of course check out the Laura Mercier counter before we leave, and we’ll see if we can find Yamir.” She looks at me, almost begging. “How about that?”

  “Fine, but I’m not pleased,” I say. I suddenly remind myself of my grandma—eerie.

  Sunny gets up slowly, and we walk away from the bench with our backs toward Evan and his friends. Sunny seems more relaxed. All I want to do is go home. She’s being so annoying.

  Then we hear boys calling our names.

  “Sunny Ramal! Lucy Desberg!”

  I turn to look at Sunny, and I notice her dark skin turning red. Very, very red.

  “You turn around first,” she insists.

  So I do. Evan and the boys are standing with their arms folded across their chests.

  “Hi, guys,” I say as confidently as I can, trying to act the way Claudia always does around guys.

  “What’re you up to?” Tyler, one of the twins, asks us.

  “Just hanging out,” I say. I nudge Sunny discreetly to get her to speak up, but so far she’s saying nothing. Her facial expression is still one of shock, and her cheeks are still as red as a bad sunburn.

  “I’m about to go beat these fine men at laser tag,” Evan says, laughing.

  “I’m awesome at laser tag.” I nudge Sunny again, slightly harder, because this is actually a chance to hang out with Evan outside of Earth Club. Plus, we like laser tag. And Sunny is good at it, since Yamir’s had a laser-tag birthday party for five years in a row. If she’s not going to take action, then I’m gonna have to do it for her. “Sunny’s even better.”

  “No, I’m not. Well, I used to be. Not anymore,” Sunny mumbles.

  “You’re so good, Sunny. Shut up.” I laugh, hoping it’ll break the tension.

  “Sunny, I know you can play laser tag,” Evan says. “I was at Yamir’s party a few years ago, when we were on the same soccer team.” He smiles at Sunny and me. “And I remember that you were on my team. And we beat the crap out of Yamir’s side!”

  Sunny folds her arms across her chest. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “If you guys play, and you beat us, we’ll buy you pizza,” Evan adds, cracking his knuckles. “How ’bout that?”

  “I love pizza,” I say. I can’t even believe this is happening. And Sunny
’s just standing there. “Especially with extra cheese.”

  “Seriously, I have to go home,” Sunny says. “Sorry. Come on, Lucy.”

  Evan shrugs. “All right. See ya.”

  The boys walk ahead of us, and I turn to look at Sunny. She plops herself down on the mall floor, sitting with her head practically in her lap.

  “Sunny, what was that?” I ask.

  “I’m not playing laser tag with Evan Mass and his friends. That’s, like, such a non girly thing to do,” she says, and turns away from me.

  “You’re mad at me now?” I ask, talking to her back. “There’s no reason for you to be mad at me. They invited us. And you just said no.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “I was trying to help you.” I get up and walk around so I can look at her. But she turns away again. “Sunny, you’re being such a baby.” I give her one last chance to say something, but she doesn’t. “Fine, you said you wanted to leave, so let’s leave.”

  There’s no point in staying here anymore. I didn’t get my sneakers, and Sunny doesn’t even really want to hang out with Evan. I thought I’d maybe sneak a few Laura Mercier lip-glosses onto my mom’s credit card, but there’s no chance of that happening now.

  I fold my arms across my chest and stare at her. “Are you coming?”

  She nods, puts her hands down on the mall floor, and gets up. “Sorry,” she says.

  “You better be.” I roll my eyes at her. “But seriously, Sunny, he wanted to hang out with you! Don’t you realize that?”

  “I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I guess so.”

  I grab her hand and guide her toward the Sephora. Then I put her right in front of one of their little stand-up mirrors. “See how pretty you are?” I ask, standing behind her.

  “Lucy,” she groans. “Stop. You sound like my mother.”

  “Your mom’s pretty smart, and usually right.”

  Sunny shakes her head and rolls her eyes at me like I’m crazy, and we walk out of the store. “I can’t wait until we’re older and you have your own makeup line and it’s sold in Sephora,” she says, trying to change the subject.