I don’t have to tell him twice. David’s already hopped out of the passenger seat and is halfway to the store entrance by the time I turn off the ignition. I get out and stop in my tracks when I see a familiar station wagon with peeling paint.
Now I really don’t want to stick around and wait for David to find clothing items for the musical. Every minute spent here is a risked chance of bumping into Ella, and I’d rather not ruin a perfectly good Saturday.
Lingering near my truck bed, I stop to tie one of my shoes even though the laces haven’t come undone. Then I check the other one, just to be safe. When I stand back up, I rub the knot in my shoulder with my knuckles for a couple of minutes.
When I can’t put it off any longer, I grab the boxes andbring them inside. They’re small bankers’ boxes, mostly filled with off-season clothing and some things my older sister left when she moved out, so they aren’t heavy. I’m able to stack them all in my arms in one trip, and thanks to the automatic doors at the entrance, I have no trouble bringing them inside.
After I drop the boxes with an employee, I walk around the store. It’s large enough that I can avoid Ella if I’m careful. I scan the room over the racks of clothing and spot David. He’s flitting through the store like a hummingbird. He walks around, does a double take, looks at something, and then moves on. There’s no rhyme or reason to his movements as he does multiple passes over the same stretch of clothing. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but I hope he finds it quickly.
Then I spot a flash of light blonde hair that I’m sure is Ella’s. She’s on the other side of the store from me. Her approach is much different. She’s meticulous in her search. She slides each individual item on the rack and looks at it before moving to the next one. She’s focused and hasn’t noticed me or David yet. With any luck, it won’t happen at all.
I watch her for another moment but relax after determining she’s focused and probably won’t see me. Figuring I’m safe, I look around a little more. There’s a bulletin board near the register, and I start reading the papers pinned to it.
There are requests for dog sitting, ads for adult GED programs, a few real estate business cards. There’s goatyoga on a farm just outside of city limits and a moms group that meets at the library on Wednesday. I’m about to go tell David to wrap it up when a bright orange paper catches my eye. It’s a flyer from a local non-profit, MASE, Meals And Service for the Elderly. They need volunteers to pack and deliver lunches for senior citizens who are living on a fixed income and can’t drive anymore.
I think about my grandparents and how difficult it is for them to get out anymore. They love using food delivery services, but I know not everyone has the means to do that. I’m about to shrug it off as a cool idea and nothing more when I have another thought. I could volunteer for this. Not only would I be helping people, it would be a great way to show the secret board at school that I’m most deserving to be Citrus Scholar.
There’s a QR code for more information. I hold my phone up to the paper to scan it when I hear Ella’s voice from right behind me.
“You’re not signing up for that.”
I turn to face her. There’s a stack of dresses resting over her arm. I look down at them and back up to her face. I raise my brows. “Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because I already did.”
I pull the paper from where it hangs and pretend to read it. “Weird. I don’t see anything about calling dibs on here. I must be missing that part.” I hold it out to her. “Show me where it says that.”
She snatches the paper from my hand. “I saw it first. You don’t get to take it from me.”
I genuinely wanted to volunteer before, but now that I see how much the idea bugs Ella, I need to do it. I rock back on my heels. “I’m not taking anything from you. That paper was on a public bulletin board. Anyone is allowed to do it.”
“I…You…” She pushes out a large puff of air. “I saw it first.”
I smirk at her. “You’ve already said that.”
She lifts her chin. “Well, good luck signing up without the paper because I’m not putting it back up there.” She balls it up and shoves it in her pocket.
“How altruistic of you. Blocking others from helping the elderly. It’s a wonder you didn’t win class president with that attitude.”
Her jaw ticks. I brace myself for her to throw the dresses at me, but her face becomes a mask as she flashes a plastic smile instead. “That’s okay. That election didn’t matter as much as Citrus Scholar, and it’s going to be so much sweeter when I beat you at it. Enjoy your title. Sign up to deliver meals. It doesn't matter to me.”
“You’re not going to win.”
“We’ll see about that.” Ella spins and walks off toward the fitting rooms.
Once she’s gone, I pull out my phone. The website pulled up before she took the paper, and I fill out the interest form. If Ella is going to do it, I need to make sure I’m there, too. I can’t let her get an edge over me.
I type out my responses and put my phone in my pocket just in time to see David and Ella talking. They’reboth smiling, and nothing is fake about their expressions. They look like they could be friends, but that doesn’t sound right. When would they even spend time together? They aren’t in the same grade and don’t share any of the same extracurriculars.
My brows furrow as I watch them for a few moments. At one point, Ella reaches out and touches his arm. She actually touches him—and he doesn’t brush her away in disgust. That’s when I know for sure this isn’t the first time they’ve talked.
David glances in my direction, and his face drops. When Ella follows his gaze, hers does, too. My brother says one last thing to her before walking toward me. He’s empty-handed.
“No luck?” I snap, not really sure why I’m so angry.
David pretends not to notice the edge in my voice and shrugs. “Wild, right? For some reason, the thrift store doesn’t have clothing appropriate for 18th-century France.”
I don’t let him off the hook. “Why were you talking to Ella?”
