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beauties?”
    â€œWe’re actually meeting two girls from school here,” I tell her. “We’re starting to prepare for the big eighth-grade dance, and I guess they want me to be in charge of makeup.”
    â€œWow. Exciting!”
    I’m about to answer when Grace holds up a finger, telling us to wait, as she picks up the phone. Every time I hear someone say, “Good evening, Pink and Green: The Spa at Old Mill Pharmacy,” I feel this wave of excitement. It never gets old.
    Grace books a spa appointment for the woman on the phone and then turns back to us with a smile. “All right, well, let me know if you need anything.”
    Sunny and I are early, so we wander through the pharmacy aisles like the good old days, making sure all the Silly Puttypackages are in order and the lollipop bowl on the counter is fully stocked.
    I turn to Sunny. “Hey, did I tell you that we finally cleaned out the basement?”
    Sunny’s eyes bulge. “Really? The thing your mom’s been talking about for years and years?”
    â€œYup. Come down and see! Before everyone else gets here.”
    The basement at the pharmacy was our main storage facility—everything ended up there: old couches, empty boxes, sets of dishes Grandma didn’t want, and of course pharmacy supplies. It was always a huge mess. And it was this thing that hung over my mom’s head that my grandma had asked her a million times to deal with.
    It took forever, but I’m so glad it’s done because it looks amazing down here.
    â€œWow. This is like a whole other place now,” Sunny says. “Honestly, we could hang out down here. Get a big-screen TV and stuff.”
    â€œI don’t know about that,” I say. “But come here, check out what we found!”
    On the counter toward the back are a zillion old-fashioned pill bottles all lined up. They’re brown and they have cork tops, and it’s pretty hard to believe that anyone ever used them for medicine.
    â€œI don’t get it. What are they?” Sunny asks.
    â€œPeople used to get their medicine in these! A million years ago! Aren’t they cool looking? They’ve been down here all along and we had no idea.”
    â€œPretty crazy.” Sunny looks a little confused, like she’s not sure why it’s a big deal. She’s still going on and on about how we should turn this basement into our official hangout.
    â€œWe should go upstairs and wait for them by the spa,” I tell Sunny, after it’s clear she’s not as impressed by the old bottles as I am. “They probably won’t know to look for us here.”
    We go upstairs and Sunny excuses herself to use the bathroom. I sit in the spa waiting area and flip through a magazine. I’m nervous, even though I really shouldn’t be. I’m the one in charge here. This is my pharmacy, my spa, and I’m doing Erica a favor by helping with the makeup. But sometimes your brain isn’t in control and there’s nothing you can do about it.
    â€œHi, Lucy, sorry we’re late,” Zoe says, running in. “My parents have CLS.”
    â€œCLS?” I ask.
    â€œChronic Lateness Syndrome. They can’t help it.” She smirks. Zoe’s petite and covered with freckles, and it’s clear she thinks she’s the cutest person on earth. In a way, she’s self-confident and funny and likable, and in another way her whole attitude is kind of annoying. I can’t totally decide how I feelabout her, but I’m committed to getting to know her better.
    â€œSo, before we start,” Zoe says, “Erica tells me you have a boyfriend in high school?”
    It’s a good thing Sunny’s in the bathroom, because she always gets grossed out when people talk about her brother that way. And also because she knows the truth. It’s hard to keep up a lie when people all around you know the truth.
    â€œYeah, I do. His name