Sideliners

7 - Malcolm Gets Pity

Malcolm and I are hanging out together in the schoolyard. His crush on one of our classmates, Julie, has been taking up a lot of our talking time. She walks by, and I prepare myself for how stupid he's going to be about it. "Hi, Malcolm," she says, and then, as an afterthought, "hi, Mary."

"Hey, Julie," I say, while Malcolm stays quiet.

She walks away, and he finally says, "hey, Jul- where'd she go?"

"She left," I say, with a laugh. "This would all be a lot easier if you just told her you like her."

"But, I, I-"

"Whatever," I say, breaking him free from his loop.

After school, we go to the Lucky Aide. Lois works there and the boys had said they'd stop by, so I join them since we usually walk home together anyway.

"Mom!" Reese shouts, as we enter.

Dewey turns to him, "you're not supposed to yell in the store."

Reese hits him on the head, "you're not supposed to do that either. Life's funny that way."

"Unlike you," I say, rolling my eyes.

Craig, one of the workers, and a guy who's so creepy he makes my skin crawl, sees us and walks over. "Hey, the three musketeers! Athos, Aramis, and you must be Porthos. And who's this?" He says.

"That's Mary, you've met her like a hundred times," Reese says.

"You're creepy," Dewey says, as Craig leans down to his height, and I hide my smile.

Craig's smile falls, "you really shouldn't say hurtful things to grownups."

"I'm sorry," Dewey says, sweet as sugar.

"That's okay, we're still friends!"

A man comes over, "Craig, you've got to redo the nail polish, the crystal pinks are mixed with the frosty pinks, are mixed with the god knows what."

"Right away, Mr Pinter," he says and then pretends to sword fight the man as he walks away. None of us react so he fights the air as he goes over to the nail polish.

"I kinda wanted to buy a new colour, but now he's gonna be over there," I sigh, looking at my blue nails, "I have, like, a hundred different blues but no reds."

"Blue's the best colour," Reese says, like I'm being stupid, "why change it?"

"Okay," I hear Lois say, and we turn to face her. "I'm off work in five minutes. Don't touch the register, don't touch the candy, don't touch the price tags, and don't touch the microphones. And that includes by accident, that includes just looking, that includes hovering with your finger a half inch away from it. Fair warning. Hey, Mary, sweetie." She smiles and then briskly walks back to her work.

The boys all look to the display, which she had not told them to keep away from. A steam blaster, with foaming action. "Dare you," Reese says.

"Go ahead," Malcolm challenges.

"You do it."

Dewey happily offers, "I'll do it."

"Yeah, right," Malcolm says.

He insists, trying to impress his older brothers, "I will."

"This isn't baby stuff, Dewey!"

"Yeah, go ride the horsey out front," Reese adds.

I frown at them both as Dewey leaves, looking a little sad, "don't be mean to him."

"You're not my mom," Reese says, and I stick my tongue out.