PG01. My Life in Pink & Green

by Lisa Greenwald

  “Thanks, Mrs. Ramal,” I say, smiling. She knows those are my favorite.

  “Sunny’s up in her room,” she tells me. I’m still holding Sunny’s wrapped present, and I’m not sure if I should leave it down here or bring it up and let her open it before everyone else arrives. Maybe I should give it to her right away—she’s going to love it so much, and I don’t want the others to feel bad that their gifts aren’t as good as mine.

  I run up the stairs, trying not to step on the pretty pink rose design that’s on the carpet. I always try to step on the cream background instead.

  “Sunny,” I sing, gently knocking on her door as I walk in.

  “Lucy! You scared me,” she says, sitting up in her purple beanbag chair. She’s dressed for the party in her pale pink velour sweat suit. She likes wearing things that are comfy but still cute.

  “Why? You knew I’d be early.” I put my jacket and the present on her bed and my overnight bag under her desk. “So should I give you your present now or later?”

  “Ummm, later,” she says. “I have to talk to you.”

  I sit down next to her on the beanbag chair, nudging her so she’ll move over and make more room for me. She smells like Dove soap, and her hair isn’t totally dry yet. Sunny has extremely thick hair. She usually starts with a hair dryer but gets bored halfway through and lets the rest air-dry.

  “Did you use that conditioner again?” I ask Sunny. Even though her hair’s still wet, the top already looks greasy.

  “No,” she says defensively.

  I shake my head at her. “Next time I’m at the pharmacy, I’m getting you oily-hair shampoo. It’s perfect for thick, awesome hair like yours.” I don’t want to criticize Sunny, because no matter what, she always looks pretty. She has huge green eyes and near-perfect skin. Even so, she rarely feels good about the way she looks. And I want to help.

  “Whatever,” Sunny mumbles.

  “Can I do your makeup for your party?” I ask. “Nothing too much, I promise.”

  Sunny groans. “Lucy,” she whines. “I don’t want to wear makeup. Can you get that through your head already?”

  “But come on, just for the party. Just some of that Pink Lollipop lip-gloss I was telling you about. You loved it when I wore it the other day. Remember? And pale eye shadow.” I smile at her sweetly as I unload my pockets. It’s her party. Shouldn’t she look and feel her best? “I took some stuff for you from the pharmacy.”

  “You thief!” Sunny says, inspecting the stuff I brought her. “That eye shadow—the Earth Beauty stuff? I thought you said no one buys that.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, that’s why it was okay for me to take it. But trust me, it still works.”

  “Um, no thanks.” Sunny mooshes up her face like she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. “Maybe some other time.”

  “Okay, but just dab some of this moisturizer on your cheeks.” I smile at her. “Your skin is a little dry.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine, I’ll do it in a second.”

  She taps me on the knee and looks me right in the eye. “Remember this summer when we discussed crushes? And we thought we were weird because we didn’t have any?”

  “Yeah,” I say, waiting for her to tell me more.

  Her eyes are wide, like she’s excited but trying to stay calm. “Okay—Evan Mass.” She smiles and shakes her hands in the air; her calmness is definitely fading.

  “Really?” I kick off my sneakers and turn to face her.

  “Ever since Earth Club,” she goes on. “Now I like him. I really, really like him. It just happened, like, out of nowhere.”

  I smile, suddenly realizing that it’s kind of exciting that Sunny has a crush. At least it’s something to take my mind off the pharmacy. I tilt my head to the side and try to get a good look at her.

  She folds her arms across her chest and presses her lips together like she’s thinking really hard about something. “But it’s not like anything’s ever going to really happen between Evan and me. I mean—this is me we’re talking about.”

  “Sunny, that is so not true,” I tell her. “Confidence goes a long way, you know. That’s what Claudia says. I know—open your present!”

  Sunny hops up from the beanbag chair and goes to inspect my gift. “I said you should give it to me later,” she complains. “Why are you tempting me?”

  “I can’t wait.” I make a pouty face. “Please. Pretty, pretty please with caramel sauce on top.”

  Sunny sighs and eventually agrees. She’s very impressed with my wrapping job, so she’s careful. She doesn’t just tear into the gift, making a mess of the silver wrapping paper and ruining the bows. In fact, she takes all of the bows and ribbons off and puts them on her desk.

  “Oh my God,” she says, not looking at me. She’s holding the earrings up in front of her and inspecting them. “Lucy! I can’t even believe you.”

  Giving a gift is sometimes even better than getting one. “You like them?” I ask, even though I obviously know the answer.

  “I love them!” she says, in a classic Sunny shriek. “I can’t believe you remembered. Did you, like, go to Italy and not tell me?”

  I give her a look. “Hello. The Internet?”

  “Oh yeah.” She giggles and puts the earrings on, admiring herself in the mirror. Then she sits back down next to me. “So what should I do about Evan? Is there, like, something I can do about a crush, or do I just have to live with it?”

  It’s not like I expect her to keep flipping out over the earrings, thanking me over and over again, but our conversation about the gift ends a little sooner than I thought it would.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I tell her. “Maybe we can go to the bookstore and read up on it. Or do some online research.”

  “See! It’s so hard. It feels like another subject in school.” Sunny moves her feet around on the carpet like she’s tap-dancing. “Like something extra to worry about and focus on.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’re gonna have a test on it,” I say, laughing.

  She doesn’t think it’s as funny as I do. Her shoulders slump, and she says, “C’mon, let’s go wait downstairs for everybody else.”

  Beauty tip: Make sure to wash your face every night

  before bed, even if it’s really late and you don’t feel like it.

  and then Sunny’s chocolate-chip birthday cake, we’re all in pajamas in Sunny’s upstairs playroom. Sunny’s house is three floors, and the bottom one is totally under construction. Sunny’s mom has been working on it for months, and I like seeing the progress.

  Right now it’s being painted. One room is going to have all red walls, and another is going to have pale yellow. And Sunny’s mom is getting this really big, comfy couch that will wrap all the way around the red room.

  They already have a big-screen TV, but they’re getting a flat-screen, one that hangs from the ceiling. And Yamir begged for a karaoke machine, so they’re getting that too. Sometimes I’ll get little pangs of jealousy when I think about all the stuff Sunny has. But then the feeling kind of fades away because Sunny never brags about it; she doesn’t even talk about it that much. Truthfully, I bring it up more than she does.

  This is the first time Mallory’s been to Sunny’s house, so she’s looking at everything really closely. She’s fascinated with all of the little statues of the Hindu gods and the Indian paintings on the walls, and she keeps commenting on them. I think they’re cool, but I’ve seen them so many times that I don’t even notice them anymore.

  Sunny hasn’t brought up Evan again, but it’s probably because her parents have been around the whole time. I’m just waiting for her to mention it again. I know this isn’t just a Sunny and Lucy discussion. She wasn’t satisfied with our talk before, which is good because I need the other girls to help me pump her up in the confidence department.

  We watch the DVD of our fifth-grade play, You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, because Sunny loves watching old home movies. She pauses it fifty milli
on times so we can see ourselves close-up. At first she only pauses it when we’re on, so we can see ourselves, but then she pauses it on a solo, one of Charlie Brown’s solos. I’d completely forgotten, but now I remember.

  Evan Mass played Charlie Brown.

  “Okay, I have an announcement to make,” Sunny says. “I think I’m in love with Charlie Brown.”

  We all laugh, even me. But I obviously know what’s coming.

  “The play, or the comic?” Cassandra asks. She’s never exactly been the sharpest tool in the shed. I hate to say it, but it’s true.

  Megan hits her. “Cass, come on.” Megan looks over at Sunny and then back at Cassandra.

  “Ohhhhh,” Cassandra says, dragging out the word for way too long.

  “Wait.” Mallory looks around at each of us. “Is that Evan Mass?”

  “Yup,” Megan says. “He’s in all the plays, and he always gets the lead. I think he takes voice lessons.”

  “I had to tell you guys.” Sunny’s staring at the TV, smiling. She gets up from the couch and moves closer to it. She’s making smooching sounds, and then she literally walks up to the TV and kisses it.

  Everyone laughs hysterically. No one would have expected that, especially from Sunny.

  “Well, you’re lucky that we have different people in all of our classes in seventh grade. It was so stupid that sixth graders had, like, almost all the same people in every class,” Megan says. “This way you can, like, ask him for help with your homework, or something.”

  “That is such a good idea!” Sunny finally unpauses the DVD. “Megan, you’re a genius.”

  We start watching the rest of the play, but then Sunny pauses it again, not stopping at anything specific. “Will I be able to do that, though?” Everyone looks a little confused, like they don’t know what she’s talking about. “Is that, like, a thing girls do? Ask boys for help with homework? Why wouldn’t I just ask one of my friends?”

  “It’s just a way to get you to talk to him,” Megan says, sounding like she’s a professional love counselor.

  Sunny sits up straight, almost like she’s posing. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “No, I don’t think I can do this, guys. Really.”

  “Why not?” I blurt out. I hate when Sunny gets like this.

  “I don’t know. He just won’t like me. I know he won’t. I couldn’t even talk to him at Earth Club. It was like my mouth shut off,” Sunny says.

  For the rest of the night, we keep trying to convince her that she has a chance with Evan. But we’re not having any luck so far.

  Beauty tip: Worrying causes wrinkles. Make sure not

  to scrunch up your forehead when stressed.

  if you think I’m kidding about this, or if you’re just not listening, but selling the house may be the only way to stay in business.” Grandma and Mom are talking in the back office, but the door is open, so I can hear them all the way at the front of the store, where I’m reorganizing the stationery section. “It’s practically the only source of income we have.”

  There’s a few seconds of silence, and then Mom says, “I just don’t think I can do that at this stage of my life. Live in a tiny two-bedroom apartment above the store with you and Lucy. I can’t do that to my daughter.”

  Well, at least Mom’s talking some sense now. No way would I be able to live up there. Share a room with my mother? Would we have bunk beds?

  They start talking more quietly, so I move closer to the office to hear them better. Then it almost sounds like they’re laughing for a few minutes. I have no idea what brought that on.

  “That or bankruptcy!” Grandma’s voice is high at the end, almost singsong, like she’s trying to make light of a horrible situation. She walks out of the office, and I pretend to be busy lining up pill bottles, but Grandma obviously knows I was listening, because she gives me that “I feel terrible” look and walks right by me without giving me any other jobs to do.

  I keep up my busy-reorganizing attitude. I move on to fix up the toy section. For some reason, the noisiest toys are on the easiest-to-reach shelf. That makes no sense to me, since little kids are always touching them. So I decide to put the dolls and the board games on the lower shelves and all of the toy instruments and beeping, honking car toys on the top shelves.

  I wonder what Sunny’s doing now. Probably just lying on her bed, dreaming about Evan. Or maybe even watching that Charlie Brown DVD again.

  Well, maybe I can’t save the pharmacy overnight, but I think I can do something to help Sunny. I can ask Claudia for advice since she’s already had three boyfriends. I could even ask Mom or Grandma for advice, because I feel like this is something they might know about.

  But even better: I can use the pharmacy as a library! We have a pretty good selection too: Cosmo, Redbook, Glamour. All of those talk about getting a guy to like you, don’t they? I’ve never actually read them, but I’ve reorganized the shelves, so I’ve seen the covers. Plus, Grandma gets all the teen magazines too, and those are filled with crush-snagging tips.

  I feel good that I’ve found such a productive thing to do with my day. Helping Sunny is just as important as helping Mom and Grandma. No one can deny that.

  And if I still have time when I’m done with my boy research for Sunny, I’ll read another chapter in The New Beauty Secrets: Your Ultimate Guide to a Flawless Face. Laura Mercier wrote it. She’s one of my idols.

  There’s a lot to admire about her. First of all, her goal is to accentuate a person’s natural beauty through their makeup. That’s my goal too. She has her own very successful makeup line, and she began her training as a makeup artist at seventeen. That’s only five years away for me, and I’ve already started my training, even though it’s not official.

  I take a big stack of magazines and sit down in one of the plastic chairs. We have a makeshift area where people can wait for prescriptions, but people usually stand anyway. I don’t get that. Why stand when you can sit? It’s true what Mom says, that people are always in such a rush these days.

  That’s why no one sits at the counter anymore. Why no one orders Grandma’s delicious grilled-cheese sandwiches anymore. Why our milk-shake maker was donated to the Jewish Community Center.

  The pharmacy changes with the rest of society, I guess. I just wish it were different. It seems like the golden years of Old Mill Pharmacy were when I was six, seven, eight. I wonder if it will ever be like that again.

  I wonder if I’m the only twelve-year-old in the world who thinks like this.

  As I’m reading through the magazines, trying to find things for Sunny, I come across an interesting article: “Making Relaxation Space.” It talks about devoting a corner of your house or office just to relaxation. It says you can put out candles, maybe even aromatherapy ones. You can have soft lighting and relaxing music playing too. “Make sure you steer clear of electronics,” it says. “Do not have anything to distract from relaxation; make this a stress-free place.”

  As I’m reading, I realize that my butt is very sore from sitting on the flimsy plastic chair for so long. Maybe that’s why people don’t choose to sit here. Maybe they don’t want to eat at the counter because it doesn’t seem inviting.

  Old Mill Pharmacy needs a Relaxation Room! A place where customers can go while they’re waiting for prescriptions to be filled. A place that’s quiet and peaceful. And we can keep the magazines there so people will actually read them and buy them!

  This won’t be an expensive thing, really, since the whole hunting section is empty anyway, and we have room for it. We could block it off, add some mood lighting, and we’d be set!

  Maybe something like this could help get things back to the way they used to be.

  Business tip: Ask yourself, what are your

  competitors doing that you aren’t doing?

  I jump up from the chair and run to the office with the magazine. “I have such an awesome idea!”

  I know Mom’s the person to go to for this kind of thing. She’
s usually open to people’s ideas, plus she’ll see the importance of something like this—she’s always saying how everyone’s too busy to relax and enjoy life.

  When I walk into the pharmacy office, Mom’s standing there talking to Tory and Charise, who came by to pick up their last paychecks. They’re each holding two big shopping bags.

  “Thank you so much, Jane,” Tory says.

  “Okay guys, go quick, before my mother sees you,” Mom says. “Just kidding. She wouldn’t mind that I’m giving you free stuff, because she loves you.”

  “Well, we really appreciate it,” Charise says, and they both give my mom a hug.

  “Mom,” I say after Tory and Charise have left the office.

  “Yes, Lucy?” she says, smiling at me.

  “I have such a good idea for the store. Ready to hear it?”

  “Lucy, you don’t need to work so hard around here,” she says. “You’re still a kid.”

  “Mom.” I roll my eyes at her. “I like helping!”

  She smiles at me and pulls me into a hug. She gets this way sometimes, overemotional. Once she said it’s because she doesn’t want me to feel obligated to work here when I’m older—I should be free to pursue my passion, whatever that means. Sometimes she thinks too far into the future.

  I pull back from the hug and say, “It’s just an idea I have for the empty hunting section. Okay? So listen.”

  She nods.

  “We need a Relaxation Room. We need to do it now.”

  Mom smiles and says, “Please explain.”

  “Here. Read this.” I hand her the magazine, which I’d stuck under my armpit while we were hugging. “If we do this, maybe that part of the store won’t look so depressing anymore.”