Beauty tip: Using too much conditioner
can make hair oily and greasy.
after school. "My mom's forcing me to join Earth Club," she says as soon as I answer. "I don't have a choice. It's either that or extra classes at the Hindu temple."
"Really? Why?"
"She thinks I spend too much time watching TV."
"Well, you do watch a lot of TV," I say, propping my feet up on my desk.
"Thanks. Will you go with me?" Sunny asks.
I pop a few more mini chocolate-chip cookies into my mouth. "Sunny!" I whine. "Do you understand what my life is like these days? I spend every waking minute that I'm not in school at the pharmacy."
Sunny groans. "Lucy, please. You're home right now, just eating cookies."
She's right. Sunny knows me too well. "I really don't have time," I say. "My grandma even said that I'm going to be stocking the shelves. Seriously, I'm like an actual Old Mill Pharmacy employee now." Even though I complain, I don't really hate it. I'd be proud to be an official Old Mill Pharmacy employee.
"Please, Lucy, please," Sunny begs. "I hate doing stuff alone. You know I'd do it for you."
She's right about that. She would do it for me. I guess it's not such a big deal. The pharmacy can survive without me one afternoon a week. And all the clubs give snacks, so that's one incentive.
"Fine," I say. "I'll do it. But only for you. And you definitely owe me!"
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Sunny shouts.
All through school the next day, I'm dreading Earth Club. I'm tired and I have tons of homework to do, and even the cookies they're going to have aren't enough to make me want to go. Still, I said I would. And Grandma didn't seem mad about it at all; she said there wasn't much work to do today anyway.
Mrs. Deleccio is the faculty member in charge of Earth Club. She was my and Sunny's science teacher last year, in sixth grade, and she's really nice.
"We have a few new members today," she says. "Welcome, Sunny and Lucy. We're going to finish up the recycling project this afternoon. There are still about ten classrooms that need recycling boxes, so I need people to volunteer for that, and also to volunteer to collect the recyclables from the other classrooms."
We break into groups according to which project we want to do. Honestly, I don't want to do either. I'm tired after a whole day at school, and both jobs sound really boring. Sunny wants to do the emptying of the recycling boxes, so I figure I might as well do it with her. And there are about ten people in that group, which means less work for me. But Yamir's in that group too, and I have no idea why Sunny would want to be in the same group as her brother.
"Luce-Juice, go get the recycling box from Mr. Bodesti's classroom, and empty it into this bag," Yamir tells me, like he's in charge. "Now!"
"Please, Yamir. Stop yelling," I say. I have zero patience for him.
"If you don't want to be in this club, then why are you here?" he asks me.
"Who said I didn't want to be in this club?"
He rolls his eyes at me. "You're weird," he says.
"This is the most annoying part," Evan Mass says. "But once it's done, it's done."
I shrug. I'll be happy when it's done; he's right about that.
"How come you guys decided to join?" Evan asks Sunny and me. Evan's been in our grade since kindergarten. He used to be a normal boy-no big deal. But this year for some reason a lot of girls like him. I mean, he's nice and everything. But he wears sweatpants to school every day, the kind with tight elastic around the ankle.
"My mom made my sister do it," Yamir says, answering for us.
"Shut up, Yamir," Sunny says. "She didn't make me."
"Yes, she did," Yamir says, looking at Evan. "My sister would prefer to sit on the couch eating Pringles every day."
"Shut up, Yamir," I say.
I hate when he insults Sunny like this, in front of other people. It's terrible that they're so close in age. I'm glad there are six years between Claudia and me, instead of just one.
Evan says, "Sunny, remember in second grade when you, me, and that girl Denise had to do that pinecone art project together?"
Sunny raises her shoulders and squints like she just tasted something sour. "Yeah, I think so."
"So, you were into this kind of stuff then," Evan says.
Sunny just stares at him and doesn't say anything.
Suddenly there's all this awkwardness in the air, and I really want it to go away.
"All right. We gotta finish, guys," I say.
As soon I say that, Sunny empties the recycling boxes into the garbage bags that I'm holding. One is for glass stuff and one is for plastic stuff. We do three more classrooms on the east wing of the school, and then, finally, we're finished.
This experience has been painful. Painful, annoying, and boring, kind of like the pharmacy can be sometimes.
I'm only doing this for Sunny.
