Reagan stepped up to the counter, ordered her usual (a Rockin’ Rocky Road cone), and said to Sierra, “You know, I really liked that song idea you texted me about. I was trying to think of a name for it. How does ‘Dear Future Crush’ sound?”

“Oh my goodness, I love it!” Sierra exclaimed from her scooping position. She stood up and presented the cone to Reagan. “I think it will be really fun to write—and to sing, of course!”

“It’s a great idea,” Reagan said. “So relatable. I bet everyone looking for that special someone will be singing it!”

“I just can’t seem to get the words right,” said Sierra, turning with a smile to include me in the conversation as I sorted paper straws into a dispenser.

While they’d been chatting, a few people had trickled into the shop and milled around, studying the menu board. But suddenly the customers were all ready to order at once. In fact, a small line had formed.

A man snorted. “So are you gonna sing, or take my order?”

I felt a little panicked. I set the straws aside and whisper-yelled, enjoying my moment of power. “Sierra, can you and Reagan finish your conversation later… like, when you’re not at work?”

Sierra was immediately embarrassed and flustered. “Of course,” she agreed speedily. “Call me later,” she said to Reagan, who waved and left. Then Sierra turned back to the customer. “I’m so sorry for making you wait, sir,” she said with a huge grin. “What super-delicious, yummy ice cream treat can I get you to cheer you up?”

The grumpy man suddenly smiled. “That’s okay,” he said, immediately charmed by Sierra’s good nature and friendliness.

A lady also waiting in line spoke up. “Why don’t you sing us your song while you make our sundaes, honey?”

Sierra laughed. “It’s not written yet,” she said. “It’s just an idea. But come back in ten days, and I promise I’ll sing it for you!”

Everyone in the line laughed and clapped.

Once again I was amazed. Sierra can charm anybody, anytime, I thought. A little pang of jealousy thrummed in my chest, and it didn’t feel good. First my missing Tamiko, then seeing all those texts and snaps on Sierra’s phone, then being ignored by Colin, now watching Sierra get all the love. It reminded me of that book-turned-movie Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

I thought, I think I’ll move to Australia.

With Tamiko far away and Colin out of the picture, I’d have only one less friend there than I had here.

CHAPTER FIVE POETRY AND VEGGIE BURGERS