Harriet popped into Small Joys every afternoon on her way home from school to see if there was any update on the T-shirt order. Every afternoon, Lucy told her the same thing: It would be Friday at the earliest.
“The concert’s Friday night,” Harriet lamented to Lucy.
“I know, sweet pea,” Lucy replied. “I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
On Friday at lunch, Harriet led the girls into the school’s lobby and borrowed Resa’s phone to call Small Joys.
“Are they in yet?” she asked anxiously.
“Well, hello to you, too, Harriet,” Lucy teased. “A bunch of boxes were just delivered. I’ll have to go through and see if your order’s in one of them.”
“Do you think that will take more than eight minutes?” asked Harriet. “Because that’s how much longer we have for lunch, and then we have to turn the phone off and I won’t be able to concentrate on my prealgebra quiz and if I don’t concentrate, I will for sure fail—”
“Okay, okay,” Lucy interrupted. “I’m opening the boxes now. I’ll call you back in a minute.”
The girls huddled around Resa’s phone, keeping an eye out for Ms. Davis.
“We have only five minutes left,” Didi said, yanking her sleeves down so she didn’t succumb to temptation and bite her nails. “What’s taking so long?”
“Whatcha waiting for?” came a high-pitched voice from behind Harriet.
Harriet spun around to find their classmate Val peeking into their little cluster.
“Nosy much?” asked Resa, her whole body tensing up. Val and Resa always seemed to be in competition. Whether it was for the best grades or to win a lemonade-selling contest, they both were intent on coming out on top. Resa didn’t know why Val was poking her head in their business, but it didn’t bode well.
“I’m just a concerned citizen,” said Val, looking mock-offended. “Phones are for emergencies only, so I figured it must be an emergency.” She smiled, and her braces glinted in the light. But that was nothing compared with the glint of the silver-sequined emoji on her shirt.
“Just making sure we have our T-shirts for the big concert tonight,” explained Harriet. “You’re coming, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Val. “You didn’t forget to put in my order, did you?”
Resa fixed Val with a skeptical look. “You’re getting a T-shirt? You know they don’t have sequins on them, right?”
Val pursed her lips together, obviously annoyed. “I don’t need sequins on my Radical Skinks T-shirt,” she said with a sugary, sweet smile. “Mine is special enough without any bling.” She winked at Harriet, then turned on her heel. “See you tonight.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Resa turned to Harriet. “What was that wink for?”
“We’re friends!” Harriet protested. “It was just a friendly wink!”
Resa crossed her arms over her chest. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you two have an arrangement for something special?” asked Amelia. “On the T-shirt?”
Harriet had the feeling she’d done something wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what. This was a common feeling for Harriet, and it unsettled her. “I mean, maybe she’s talking about the autographs?” Harriet said. “She wanted all my brothers to sign her shirt. Who would’ve guessed she’s such a fan, right?”
“You charged her more, right?” asked Resa.
Ah, so that’s what my mistake was, Harriet thought. Still, she didn’t get it. “Why would I?” she asked nervously. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. My brothers love giving autographs. They don’t mind. Really.”
The lobby started filling up with students leaving the lunchroom and heading to their next class. The bell hadn’t rung yet, but Harriet knew it would any second.
“This is why you need to run stuff by—” Resa began, but Didi elbowed her.
“It’s not a big deal,” said Didi. “But next time, you should charge more for an autographed shirt.”
“But it doesn’t cost us any more to get the autographs!” Harriet protested.
“That’s true,” Amelia said. “But now everyone else’s shirts—that they’re buying for the same price—will be less special by comparison. It’s like—”
Amelia’s voice was interrupted by the bell blaring.
“Doggonit!” Harriet exclaimed. “Lucy said she’d call us back.”
“I have to go to social studies,” said Amelia. “Can’t keep ancient Egypt waiting.”
Resa placed her finger on the phone’s off switch, but before she could press it down, it started to buzz. A text had just come in.
“It’s from Lucy,” Resa announced. “The shirts are in!”
The girls let out a celebratory whoop, just as Ms. Davis passed by. She glanced down at the phone in Resa’s hand with disdain.
“Somebody break a bone?” she said.
“Uh, no,” stammered Didi, looking mortified. “Sorry, Ms. Davis … we were—”
Ms. Davis held her hand up. “Save the song and dance for theater class,” she said. “Which you’re late for, if I’m not mistaken.”
Didi’s eyes were wide and worried. “Ohmigosh, yes, yes, you’re right, I’m—I’m going.”
Didi, Resa, and Amelia scattered to various staircases to make it to their next period on time. Harriet took a step toward the stairs and then had a thought. She spun around and called out, “Hey, Ms. D, do you like rock and roll?”