Fact #1: For the past four weeks, Mary Ann and I have been spending a lot of time by our mailboxes.

Fact #2: My brother, Max, says all the time we’ve been spending by our mailboxes has been wasted time. He says there’s no way either one of us is going to win any contest.

Fact #3: George, the mail carrier, arrives in approximately ten minutes.

“Hopefully today will be our lucky day,” says Mary Ann. She plops down on the ground under my mailbox.

I plop down beside her. We’ve been waiting so long to get a letter from Fashion Fran saying one of us won the Design Your Dream Outfit contest. At first, I was worried about what would happen if one of us won. Now, I just hope one of us does. I’m sure we could figure out a way to both go on the show. I really want today to be our lucky day, but maybe my brother is right. Maybe we aren’t going to win anything.

Mary Ann grabs my arm and points down the street. “Here comes George!”

He stops his truck in front of our house. “Good afternoon, girls.” George smiles at us and pulls out a stack of mail. He hands it to me. He hands the next pile to Mary Ann.

When Mary Ann and I first started waiting, we told George what we were waiting for. For the first few weeks, he stayed while we looked through the mail to see if we got anything from Fashion Fran.

I guess George got sick of waiting, because he doesn’t stay anymore.

After George drives off, Mary Ann and I start looking through our piles of envelopes.

Boring … lots of ads and bills. Mary Ann leans over my shoulder. “Nothing in mine. Did you get anything?” she asks.

I shake my head from side to side. “Just plain envelopes.” I keep flipping through the stack. When I flip to a shiny gold envelope, I stop. There’s something different about this envelope.

Mary Ann leans in like she senses there is something different too.

I drop the rest of the mail I’m holding and turn the envelope over. Mary Ann and I both see a New York City return address.

“It’s addressed to Miss Mallory McDonald.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Mallory, open it!” I can tell Mary Ann is trying to stay calm, but her voice sounds shaky.

I carefully pull back the flap on the envelope. Mary Ann and I both hold our breath as I pull out a thick sheet of gold paper. I’m almost too scared to look. Mary Ann grabs my arm. Slowly, I unfold the paper and start reading.

“You won!” Mary Ann grabs me. She starts screaming and jumping. “You won! You won! You won!”

I would scream and jump too, but I’m too shocked to scream or jump. I can’t believe I won.

When Mary Ann stops screaming, I unfold the letter to my parents. I start reading it out loud. Lots of stuff about hotels, plane tickets, addresses, and dates.

“Forget that!” says Mary Ann. “You won and we get to be on the Fashion Fran show!”

Mary Ann is my lifelong best friend.

We do everything together.

We paint our toenails the same color.

We chew the same kind of gum.

We like the same TV show.

We wear matching pajamas.

We say things three times.

We’ve gone together on vacations and to summer camp.

And we have a pile of scrapbooks that we made together.

I have always done everything with Mary Ann. We have lived next door to each other almost all of our lives. The first pinky swear we ever made was when we swore to always be lifelong best friends. I love Mary Ann with all my heart, but sometimes she says things that scare me.

And this is one of those times.

She taps me on the shoulder like she is talking and wants my full attention.

“You won the contest, and we get to be on the Fashion Fran show!” This time when she says “we,” she holds up her pinky like she wants to make sure I remember the pinky swear we made:

“If one of us wins, we’ll figure out the rest.”

“I don’t see how we’re going to pull this off,” I say to Mary Ann. My voice is almost a whisper.

Mary Ann crosses her arms across her chest and shakes her head like she’s disappointed she even has to explain this to me.

“Mallory, when we were five, we made a pinky swear that we would share all our Halloween candy.

“Even though I got two pumpkins full of candy and you only got one, I shared all my candy with you.

“I kept my pinky swear!”

Mary Ann keeps talking. “When we were seven and you were scared to go to school, we made a pinky swear that we would sit next to each other in class no matter what.

“I was the one who had to convince mean, scary Mrs. Barton to put our desks next to each other.

“I kept my pinky swear!”

Mary Ann keeps talking like she’s nowhere near done. “And when we were nine, we made a pinky swear to always paint our toenails the same color.

“There have been times when I didn’t like the color you picked. But I painted my toenails the same color as yours. I KEPT MY PINKY SWEAR!”

Mary Ann gives me a what-kind-of-best-friend-would-you-be-if-you-didn’t-keep-your-pinky-swear look.

“A pinky swear is a pinky swear,” she says.

I take a deep breath. I know a pinky swear is a pinky swear.

I just don’t know how I’m going to keep this one.