There are some things that should never happen when you’re twelve and you’re standing in the movie line—alongside your mama—but like it or not, they happen just the same. I heard her voice behind me and swiveled around.
“Hi, Mrs. Haberlin and Gabriel,” Rosie Riley said. Patrick poked his head out from behind me. “Oh, and Patrick.”
Beside her stood her best friend, Emma Kane, who suffers from what Patrick and I call the Triple S disease—snooty, self-worshipping, and selfish.
“Well, hi there, Rosie and Emma,” Mama said in her cheerful way.
Patrick offered them a half wave.
Rosie and Emma were there by themselves, and me being with Mama made me feel like I was still a baby. Right then, I wanted to go poof and disappear. “Hi, R-Rosie,” I stammered, “and Emma.”
“Hiya,” Emma said.
“You seem all better from yesterday,” Rosie commented.
My face got warm, and I could feel it turn red. “I am, thanks.”
The line began to move, and Mama declared, “Thank the Lord. This heat has got it in its mind to do me harm.”
“It’s true, Mrs. Haberlin, people can die from being too hot. It’s called hyperthermia,” Rosie said seriously.
Mama winked at her. “I see your daddy’s profession is rubbin’ off on you.”
“Yes ma’am, it is,” Rosie replied confidently. Her hair was swept up and held in place by a tortoiseshell comb like the one I bought for my mama Christmas before last. I tried with all my might to stop admiring Rosie, but I was unsuccessful until Emma blew a huge bubble, distracting me.
Finally, we were at the ticket counter. “One adult and two children,” Mama told the man in the booth.
I heard Emma giggle. “Bye-bye, little boys,” she said sarcastically.
“So long,” Rosie said.
“See ya,” I replied.
Please don’t let them sit near us, I hoped. Thankfully, they didn’t. After a while Porky Pig and Daffy Duck had my attention, and by the time Basil Rathbone appeared on the screen, Rosie Riley had slipped out of my mind—well, mostly.