PG01. My Life in Pink & Green

by Lisa Greenwald

  “Lucy,” Grandma groans, gently patting me on the back as soon as Erica goes over to the others. “Please, you need to realize what the situation is. I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re not being realistic.”

  Saying nothing, I hand Grandma the forty dollars that Yamir, Clint, Marnie, and Erica put in my tip bowl.

  “Lucy, keep it. Really,” she says. “That money is yours.”

  “No, honestly, I want you to see how much this makeup business is helping the pharmacy,” I plead. “Really. There’s still hope, Grandma.”

  Grandma messes up my hair and kisses me on the forehead. “Lucy, just keep the money. Okay? Can you listen to me?”

  I nod. My throat starts burning, and every time I try to swallow, it hurts. I blink and blink and blink, trying to force back tears. I wish Grandma would just listen to me. It seems like the harder I try, the less she listens.

  And now I have a stupid crush on Yamir to deal with too.

  Apply your blush in a circular motion,

  with the flat side of your brush. –Laura Mercier

  Yamir went with Erica Crane to the eighth-grade masquerade? Like a date?” I ask Sunny at our lockers. Today’s the last day of school before winter break, and we have to do this massive locker cleanup.

  “Noooo!” Sunny gasps, throwing some empty potato chip bags into the trash can next to her. “Are you sure? I mean, I know she mentioned it that day. But then Yamir never said anything about it.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. They came in yesterday for me to do their makeup.” I throw a few empty iced tea bottles from my locker into the recycling bin and plop myself down on the floor in front of my locker. I’m done cleaning. “No one takes dates, you know. Did Yamir say how it went?”

  Sunny shakes her head. “Erica Crane is sick,” she says. “Like insane, I think.”

  When we get to Mr. Planzin’s class for English, all of the desks are moved into a circle.

  “Take a seat anywhere,” Mr. Planzin says. “What we’re going to do today is write each of our classmates a hope or wish we have for them for over the holiday break. Not just ‘Have a Happy Hanukkah’ or ‘Merry Christmas.’ Think about something they’ve been working on or struggling with, and write something based on that. And if nothing comes to mind, then write a unique wish. Like ‘I hope you get extra marshmallows in your hot chocolate.’ Think of it like a fortune cookie.”

  Mr. Planzin hands out little pieces of paper and says to write our classmates’ names on them and then get started on the wishes. Some of them are easy. Like for Megan, I write, “Hope you conquer that black diamond trail in Vermont.” She’s an amazing skier, and she’s been waiting to try that trail forever. For Cassandra I write, “Hope your grandma gets better and you get to spend a lot of time with her.” Her grandma just had a hip replacement and she’s in a rehab place forty minutes away. Cassandra’s been sad she hasn’t gotten to see her yet.

  Sunny’s is really easy too. I write, “Hope you keep feeling as awesome as you are.”

  At my locker, I look at all of the fortunes people wrote for me.

  Megan wrote, “Hope you get a break from working at the pharmacy,” and Cassandra wrote, “Thanks for being such an awesome friend. I hope people have the chance to be as good of a friend to you as you have been to us.”

  Cassandra may not be the brightest, but she’s one of the nicest for sure.

  Evan wrote, “Hope you get to go out for home fries at Sylvia’s Diner. They’re definitely better than the school tater tots you love so much.”

  I laugh out loud when I read that. He thinks it’s crazy that I love the school tater tots, but they’re so good. And he’s been going on and on in Math about Sylvia’s Diner. I’ve never even been there, even though I’ve lived in Old Mill my whole life and it’s only a block from the pharmacy.

  And Annabelle Wilson wrote, “You’re going to save the world one day. So get some rest while you can.” It’s strange how you don’t realize what some people think of you. I didn’t know Annabelle Wilson had so much faith in me. I feel like I want to give her a hug now that I know.

  Sunny runs up to me when I’m halfway to the front doors. “I got such good ones,” she says. “I love that Mr. Planzin does this.”

  I nod. “It’s really cool.”

  “Guess what?” Sunny asks as we’re walking outside to the parking lot.

  “What?”

  “Evan’s wish to me was . . .” She takes the note out of her pocket. “‘Hope you have a relaxing vacation and don’t need to collect any recycling that’s sticky and smelly. Maybe I’ll see you at Lucy’s pharmacy.’”

  My eyes widen, and for a minute I’m not able to say anything. It’s like all the emotions that I’m feeling are circling around in my brain and my mouth hasn’t figured them out yet. “Sunny!” I squeal. “Hello? He likes you!”

  “He does?” she asks.

  “Yes!”

  Sunny smiles as wide as I’ve ever seen her smile. “It’s totally from that concealer you gave me and the moisturizer. Seriously.”

  “Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes at her. “Makeup doesn’t change who you are. Can you just take some credit that you’re awesome?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugs.

  When Mrs. Ramal arrives, I get in the car and feel so happy that Yamir’s not in the car for the ride home. He was going to Anthony’s house after school today.

  Now that I like him, I feel exactly the way Sunny did when she started liking Evan. I do not want to see Yamir. Not at all.

  “Girls, Yamir is sleeping at Anthony’s tonight,” Mrs. Ramal says. “So he won’t be around to bother you. Lucy, would you like to sleep over?”

  I feel like Mrs. Ramal just read my mind about the whole Yamir thing. Is it so obvious that even his mother knows?

  My mom says it’s okay, and I sleep over at Sunny’s. Mrs. Ramal bakes oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies for us, and Mr. Ramal has a fire going in the fireplace. Sunny and I make paper fortune-tellers and ask them the same question over and over again. “Does Evan like Sunny?” When Sunny goes to the bathroom, I quickly ask it, “Will Yamir ever like Lucy?” It’s just so weird to like your best friend’s brother. Friends’ brothers are automatically considered gross, by default. And liking one feels like a curse or an illness—something unfair that just happens to you. And besides, it’s like it doesn’t count or something, like it’s not even a real crush.

  I wish I didn’t feel this way about Yamir. But I can’t change it now.

  I need to tell Sunny. I need to. I feel like this secret is eating me alive.

  Sunny gets back from the bathroom, sits next to me on the couch, and looks at me through squinted eyes. “Are you okay, Luce?”

  See, she knows me that well. She knows something’s wrong. I exhale. “Sunny, I have to tell you something,” I whisper. I have to make sure her parents don’t hear.

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember when you first started liking Evan, and you said it came out of nowhere and it just happened, and then you couldn’t stop thinking about him?”

  She nods.

  “Well . . . I think it’s happened to me too.” I pause and clench my teeth. “But with Yamir.”

  “My brother?” she says, sounding confused.

  I nod.

  “Oh my God,” Sunny whispers. “Oh my God!” she shouts.

  “Shh!” I say. “It’s so weird, I know.”

  “It’s more than weird. It’s gross.” Sunny raises her eyebrows and keeps them that way. “Seriously. Do you have to like him?”

  “Sunny,” I say quietly. Why is she reacting like this?

  “What?” she asks, all defensively.

  “I’m not kidding.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I like him. Like, for real.”

  “Can we just pretend you didn’t just tell me that?” She turns away from me a little bit. “Because I was really excited for this sleepover, and now it’s totally ruined.”

  “Fine.” It’s pretty unfair that
I have to lie about my crush on Yamir and she gets to go on and on about Evan.

  We sleep in sleeping bags in front of the fireplace, but we don’t talk that much for the rest of the night. I’m tossing and turning and up so late that the fire is out before I fall asleep. This is the first time I’ve slept here since I realized I like Yamir. And now I feel funny.

  Like, I want to go into his room and look around. I’ve never really been in there, never really cared at all. But now I want to know. What does he have on his shelves? Does he have clothes all over the floor? Is he a neat freak? What does he spend his time looking at?

  I’m tempted to go up there, right now. Sunny and her parents have been asleep for hours. No one would know.

  But I can’t do it. I can’t be a stalker.

  Even if it is just Yamir. A boy I’ve known since I was five.

  Beauty tip: A new lipstick can be as

  exciting as a new pair of jeans.

  The words come out of my mouth shaky, like some little alien got inside my brain and forced me to say them. It’s the middle of winter break, and it’s been pretty boring so far. Sunny and I haven’t even been talking much since I told her about Yamir. She’s mad at me; I know she is.

  But how can she be mad at me for feeling this way? I can’t help it.

  Evan smiles and then walks over to me. “Hi, Lucy.”

  “So, are you here shopping for anything in particular?” I ask. I have no idea why I’m so nervous to talk to Evan. He’s Sunny’s crush, not mine. But maybe this is a chance for me to fix things between Sunny and me. If I have a great conversation with Evan, I’ll have an excuse to call her, and she’ll be so happy that she’ll forgive me about Yamir. I rub my lips together; I wonder if I still have some of the candy cane lip-gloss on or if it wore off already.

  “Yeah, my aunt’s and my mom’s birthday is tomorrow. They’re turning forty. My mom wants to get my aunt some silly turning-forty kind of stuff.” Evan laughs. “She’s my mom’s twin, and they always get each other the weirdest stuff.”

  I feel my eyes get bigger. “Your mom’s a twin? I’ve always wanted to be a twin!”

  “I think it may be a little too late for that, Lucy,” Evan says, and we both start laughing.

  “Oh well. You know how people always say ‘nothing is impossible’? Well, I guess that’s one thing that is.”

  “True.” Evan looks around the store and stares up at the ceiling. I can’t tell if he’s searching for something to talk about or if he’s really interested in the design of the pharmacy.

  Soon Evan’s mom tells him it’s time to go, and I feel a little relieved since there’s been an awkward silence for what seems like hours. But I’m a little depressed too, because that conversation wasn’t very exciting, so I don’t have much to report back to Sunny.

  Beauty tip: In the winter, make sure to wear

  moisturizing lip products to prevent chapped lips.

  Sunny asks on the way to the buses after school. It’s the first day back from break, and I guess we made up, or she just got over or forgot about my crush on Yamir, because first thing this morning she was hugging me like she hadn’t seen me in years. “You’ve been silent about it.”

  “I told you. They think it’s, like, some stupid kid idea.” It’s so cold my cheeks feel like they’re frozen. I can’t even bear to be outside for a minute. I hate January.

  “Yeah, but what about everything else? Your makeup stuff?”

  “Me sometimes doing makeup isn’t gonna be enough to save the store. And they don’t even want to talk about it.”

  Sunny slides into the bus seat. “Sorry, Luce.”

  “Yeah,” I grumble under my breath. I hate to say this, but Sunny doesn’t know how to help me with this. That’s why I don’t talk about it with her. I’m glad she’s not mad at me anymore, but I just don’t feel like talking.

  “Maybe your mom and grandma don’t take your makeup stuff seriously because you don’t advertise. You don’t even have a makeup sign in the front of the store.”

  I laugh at that. I’ve never heard Sunny be so direct before.

  “Maybe you need to have a more professional business,” Sunny says.

  “We do have a professional business,” I snap. “Forget it, I don’t even want to talk to you about this.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “No, I mean, the makeup. Duh. Maybe you need a brochure. Or some kind of cool sign.”

  “Whatever, Sunny. Forget it.” I really wish she’d stop giving me advice. She didn’t take my advice at first when I was trying to help her with Evan, so I don’t have to feel guilty about not taking her advice now. Sometimes it’s better just to do stuff on your own.

  “Stop being so stubborn. Yamir can help you with a brochure. He knows how to use the printer and all the design features and stuff. And maybe more people will know about it if you have that.”

  I don’t respond. Maybe she’s a little bit right, but still. She thinks she knows everything.

  “It’ll be cool. If you feel like people don’t take you seriously, then a brochure will totally help. Your grandma will take the whole idea more seriously too. It can only help her trust your spa idea, and the grant, and everything. You know?” She looks at me. “Hello? Are you hearing me?”

  “Yeah,” I grumble. “Fine, ask Yamir if he’ll do it.” As soon as I say that, I wish I hadn’t. Now that I know I like Yamir, and Sunny knows too, it’s going to be so hard to be around him.

  Sunny rolls her eyes again. “Sure. And maybe you can say thank you?”

  “Thank you,” I say to the seat in front of me, instead of to Sunny.

  I know I shouldn’t be taking this out on Sunny. It’s obviously not her fault, and she’s only trying to help. It’s just that the situation is so frustrating. Like, one minute I think I’ve found a solution. And the next minute, it’s not gonna happen.

  A girl can’t handle this kind of thing. It’s too much stress.

  Beauty tip: Fruits and vegetables are good

  for the complexion.

  to Sunny’s house so Yamir can help me with the brochure. I had to lie and tell Mom and Grandma I had a school project to work on and that’s why I wouldn’t be at the pharmacy.

  I hate lying and I hate this plan, but it’s really my only option. I hate that Yamir Ramal is the one who knows how to use his dad’s fancy printer. Annoying, obnoxious Yamir Ramal. I hate that he went with Erica Crane to the masquerade. I hate that I like him.

  Why do I have to like him, of all people?

  And I hate that I’m even in this situation in the first place. Why can’t the store just be doing well? Sometimes I wish I were just born into another family. It seems like no other twelve-year-olds have the kinds of problems that I do.

  “Hello, Luce-Juice,” Yamir says as Sunny and I walk up to the house. He’s been waiting for us by the front door. I have no idea why.

  “Lucy works just fine.”

  Yamir grins. “Oh, but Luce-Juice is so much more fun.” He holds the door open for Sunny and me, and we walk in. “Isn’t it? I mean, come on.”

  I don’t respond.

  Sunny gives me one of her annoyed looks, and I’m not sure if she’s annoyed at me or annoyed at Yamir or both. “Mom said there was pink lemonade in the fridge and chocolate-chip cookies for us on the table.”

  “Well, there is pink lemonade,” Yamir says, looking away. “Cookies, not so much. We got out of school early, and Tony and I kinda polished off the cookies.”

  “Yamir! That is so unfair. Mom made them for Lucy and me. I’m calling her right now,” Sunny yells at him, starting to dial her cell phone.

  “Oh, Sunner. Calm yourself.” He smiles at me. “I was kidding.”

  I shake my head at both of them. “Not to be rude or anything, Yamir, but I don’t have all day.”

  “Luce-Juice. You know, just saying ‘not to be rude or anything’ doesn’t excuse you for being rude.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Please, Yamir, great,
awesome, righteous Yamir Ramal, will you please help me?” I grit my teeth. I have no idea how to act around him now, so I’m just pretending nothing’s changed. He’s just as obnoxious as he was before, anyway.

  “Surely. Please follow me into my office.”

  Sunny grabs the pitcher of lemonade, three glasses, the tray of cookies, and a Red Delicious apple for the two of us. We follow Yamir down the stairs into the basement office.

  Sunny’s basement is one of my favorite places on the entire earth. It sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true. People talk about the Seven Wonders of the World—to me, Sunny’s basement is the eighth.

  Since the last time I was here, the yellow room got a flat-screen TV, a pool table, a jukebox, and even one of those huge gumball machines that you only see at special candy stores or amusement parks.

  And there’s the room we’re in now: Mr. Ramal’s home office. It has a few computers, a fax machine, and a big, fancy printer like the kinds they have at office-supply stores.

  “Okay, why don’t you tell me what you want on the brochure, and then we can try to design it together?” Yamir asks me, suddenly sounding so professional and businesslike. I have to force myself not to giggle.

  “Well, I think it should list the different services I offer, like full makeup application, but sometimes people just want their eyeshadow done, or they just want skin-care tips.” Sunny’s smiling at me—she seems so proud. “Also, a list of beauty products and makeup that the pharmacy sells, and our hours.”

  After I go through all the different things I do, Yamir types them up in this fancy print-design layout. He knows how to move around all the different shapes and rearrange and make everything fit. It’s really kind of amazing.

  “Yamir, how do you know how to do all this?” I ask.