He spins around, eyes on me and then the cup. “Don’t—” He tries to stop me.
I smile as I dump his coffee in the trash.
* * *
“I might be claustrophobic,” I tell Geraldine as we squeeze through hordes of shoppers. Every hallway is clogged with foot traffic, and there are so many big sweaters and stuffed shopping bags and blinking decorations I can barely see straight. I press my arms together, trying to make myself as small as possible so the people barreling past don’t knock into my shoulders.
“I didn’t know this many people still shopped at the mall,” Geraldine replies. She only started working here last summer, so this is her first time experiencing the mad holiday rush. “Don’t they know the Internet exists?”
“It’s DD Week.”
“DD Week?”
“Delayed Delivery Week,” I explain. “As in, there are so many deliveries being made, your favorite online retailers can no longer offer two-day express shipping. If people want their gifts in time, they have to buy them in person.”
“Ooh, they’re in!” Geraldine squeals as we arrive at Make You Up. I’m on a midmorning break with her before she heads into work for the Bo’s Burritos lunch rush. I’m going to sell an absolutely epic number of books this afternoon, but first I could use a quick breather from the store—and from Jake—to get into the right bookselling headspace. A little best friend time should be just the fix I need.
Geraldine presses close to the window, her eyes feasting on a display of winter lip kits. “They’re gorgeous! I’m in love!” Her giddy enthusiasm is infectious and almost tricks me into caring about winter lip kits. She’s going to be a fantastic beauty vlogger. She can sell product with a single squeal!
We walk into the packed store, and Geraldine takes my hand to lead the way. Customers are crammed into every narrow aisle, and the line for the register is 20 Leagues Under the Sea deep. Even during the holidays, Once Upon never sees this kind of traffic. Maybe we should start selling lotions and face masks along with our copies of The Silence of the Lambs.
“Elliot!” Geraldine says.
Elliot spins toward us and grins. His brown hair flops close to his perfect brows, and he’s wearing a Paladin High School football shirt under his store apron. He strides forward and grasps Geraldine’s forearms. “Have you seen them?”
“Mm-hmm!” Geraldine responds, eyes alight with true lipstick love. “But not up close.”
“Come on, then.” Elliot shepherds us over to the lip kits. “Excuse me, pardon me,” he says to everyone in our path. “Store emergency. Out of the way.”
I laugh. “Your manager must love you.”
“Oh, she despises me,” Elliot replies. “But I sell more product than any other employee on this floor, so she keeps me around. How’s the holiday season at Once Upon?” He grabs two lip kits and hands them both to Geraldine. Elliot knows my makeup routine doesn’t get much more advanced than drugstore mascara and lipstick.
“Busy!” I answer, though now that I’m thinking about it, things feel less hectic than last year. I’m probably just older and wiser and faster on the register. “Any books you want for Christmas? I can use my discount!”
“Isn’t there a new Aaron Rodgers memoir?”
“Is that a football thing?” I ask.
“Yup!”
I make a face. “Gross. Boring.”
Elliot grins. “I’ve got to work out and study up if I want to make varsity next year. At least my growth spurt came just in time.” He steps forward and bops me on the head from almost a foot of height above me.
I hear a soft cry next to me and turn to see tears on Geraldine’s face as she stares at the lip kits. “Oh, sweet thing,” I say. “Are you crying right now? Over lipstick?”
Geraldine blinks up at me. “It’s not lipstick,” she says. “It’s limited-edition winter lip kits in Bruised Kiss Burgundy and Punch Me Plum.”
“Bruised Kiss? Punch Me Plum?” I raise an eyebrow. “I think there’s something wrong with this company.”
“They’re both gorgeous,” Elliot tells Geraldine. “But I think Bruised Burgundy is the winner if you have to choose.”
“Choose? I can’t even afford one.” Geraldine’s lips twist. “I’m trying to save up for a camera so I can film on something other than my phone, but then, what’s the point if I don’t have the makeup to talk about? Some beauty influencers have a dozen new products each week. My favorite, Lucille Tifton, posts a new video every day. I’ll never be able to compete.…”
My heart aches for Geraldine. She’s been working so hard to make her YouTuber dream come true. The only reason she works at Bo’s Burritos (an insult to my mother and Mexican food everywhere, though the guac is straight-up delicious, as she’s said) instead of Make You Up is because she gets tips at Bo’s, so in the end, she earns more per hour. I don’t know how I can make her dream happen, but I do have an idea of how to brighten her day.
As Geraldine stares at the lip kits, I lean into Elliot. “Hey friend,” I whisper. “Aren’t there, like, samples or something you can give her?” I bat my eyelashes. “Pretty, pretty please?”
“You’re real cute,” Elliot says.
I beam. “Totally agree.”
He pauses for a moment, thinking. “Tell you what. Someone returned a broken tube of the Punch Me Plum earlier today. I’ll, um, say it got tossed in the trash by accident. Be right back.”
While Elliot searches, I look around the store. Lipsticks and eye shadows sit like jewels in their cases, shining under the store lights. Customers run polished fingernails over tubes of mascara and pots of moisturizer, while other shoppers dust their skin with shimmery powders. A turquoise eyeliner catches my attention, and I immediately think of Mama. She loves mixing it up with funky colors every now and then. I snap a picture and text it to her, along with the message: Super cute, right? Do you have this color?
I need to save my money, but maybe it’s on sale, and I can get her a bonus Hanukkah gift. I wait for her to respond, knowing she’s more attached to her phone than most of my friends, but I don’t get a reply. And then Elliot is back. He discreetly slips the tube to Geraldine and kisses her on the cheek. “It’ll look great on you.”
“Thank you,” Geraldine whispers, staring in reverence at the matte black tube. “Free chips for the rest of your life, okay?”
“Deal!” Elliot says. “I’ve got to get back to work. Visit again soon, all right?”
“Obviously!” Geraldine replies.
“I’ll look for that football book for you,” I promise him.
As we head out of the store, Geraldine stares at her new lipstick, eyes mesmerized. “I’m so happy,” she says. “Thanks, Shosh.”
I lean into her, my heart lifting. “I’m so happy for you.”
My phone buzzes, and my spirits lift even more. Mama must have texted me back. Hopefully the eyeliner doesn’t cost as much as those lip kits because I really don’t have time this week to sell a kidney on the black market. But it’s not a text. It’s just an alarm reminding me to get back to work.