“This is Skylar,” I say. “She takes music instead of art. Maybe you saw her in Bye Bye Birdie? She sang the lead, and she was so good. Ms. Woodley says Skylar’s her best student ever.” I realize I’m talking too much, something I do when I’m nervous. I must be picking up Ms. Sullivan’s mood.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Ms. Sullivan says. “The seventh-grade musical. You were marvelous, Skylar. Everyone was so impressed.”

“Thank you.” Skylar blushes. “It was lots of fun. I’m trying out next year, too. And I’m already in chorus.”

Ms. Sullivan shifts her bags from one hand to the other. “I’d love to hear more about your summer, girls, but I have an appointment at four, and it’s already past three.”

We say goodbye and watch her walk away. She turns and calls, “Have a great summer, you two—what’s left of it, that is. See you when school starts.” She turns again and leaves the mall.

“She’s so nice,” I say. “And she’s a really good artist. I’ve learned a lot from her.”

“I wonder what she bought in Victoria’s Secret.” Skylar giggles and nudges me. “Maybe that sexy black bra I liked. And the matching thong.”

I pull away, mortified. “It’s none of our business what she bought.”

“Don’t be so uptight, Abbi. My mom buys lots of stuff there. Where do you think she got the sexy things we wore when we took those pictures?”

“I’m not uptight. I just never thought about Ms. Sullivan going there. It surprised me, that’s all.”

While we’re walking, I try to imagine my mother in Victoria’s Secret. Ms. Freeman, yes; my mom, no. Her underwear comes from Macy’s. No secret there. I see it in the laundry.

Skylar stops to look at a pair of jeans in Nordstrom’s. “One hundred and eighty-five dollars,” she says. “That’s crazy. They look just like jeans in the Gap at half the price.”

We go into Starbucks and order mocha Frappuccinos with whipped cream. Once again, we both spend what’s left of our allowances. We need to do some serious babysitting.

It’s stopped raining, so we sit at a table outside where we can see Ms. Freeman when she comes to pick us up.

Skylar takes a big slurp of Frappuccino and leans toward me. In a low voice she asks, “Do you think Jonathon likes me?”

“Are you kidding? He’s madly in love with you!”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. He kept sneaking looks at you, and then he blew those wrappers in your face. True love, Skylar.”

Her face turns red, and she laughs like she can’t stop, and then I laugh too. We must be crazy or something. Everything sets us off. First Victoria’s Secret and now Jonathon.