Glitter Girl by Toni Runkle

first to sport Glitter Gear at school the next day. Chelsea walked through the empty store as a few of the temporary employees cleaned up. The place looked like Whoville on Christmas morning after the Grinch had tossed everything in his sled and headed back up Mount Crumpit. There was nothing left but bare walls and wire. But unlike the Whos in Kat’s favorite Dr. Seuss book, Chelsea was not about to join hands with anyone in the town square and sing. Instead, Chelsea had already started counting the money.
    Kat, who had all the Glitter Girl stuff she needed at the moment, was one of the few girls in town who didn’t make the pilgrimage to the White Oak Mall to shop for Glitter Gear. She went for an entirely different reason—Jules. Her birthday was coming up, and Kat hadn’t gotten her present yet. And considering what had gone down the night before, Kat wanted to make sure it was an extra nice one.
    As Kat walked through the mall, she was amazed at the madness that was happening at the temporary Glitter Girl shop. It certainly was clear that Glitter Girl was a hit, just like Chelsea had said it would be. The vague thought of giving Jules a Glitter Girl gift card as a gag gift crossed Kat’s mind for a moment, but she quickly shook it off. Now was not the time for jokes, especially not about Glitter Girl. In fact, she made a point of steering clear of the mayhem at the Glitter Girl store completely, for fear of seeming over-eager to Chelsea.
    Instead, Kat wandered through Forever 21 and Target and Macy’s, but she couldn’t really find anything that seemed to say “Jules.” In fact, most of the stuff she saw practically screamed out “NOT JULES” instead. Kat decided to steer clear of the clothes, fashion, and beauty product sections of the other stores as well.
    However, in the corner of the mall, there was a store Kat knew about, but just barely. The only reason it was on her radar was that it was on the way to that cart that sold cinnamon pretzels. It was a little store with a dingy sign: “McPhee & Sullivan, Independent Booksellers.” It had been there as long as the mall existed but Kat had never set foot in the place.
    Now, she entered the store. It wasn’t like one of those well-lit, well-organized bookstores where Kat and her mom would go to buy a book for Kat’s dad to read on the plane. Instead, new and used books were piled to the ceiling in no particular order that Kat could decipher. An elderly man who looked a bit like Ebenezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol sat on a stool behind the counter scribbling in a notebook. Kat nervously approached the ancient salesman.
    â€œExcuse me,” Kat said, barely audible.
    No reaction. A little louder this time. “Excuse me.”
    The old man looked up at her, almost surprised to be seeing a customer, or at least a customer under the age of one hundred twelve.
    â€œWell hello, young miss,” the salesman said, with an accent that sounded a little English or Irish or Scottish or something. Kat could never tell the difference. “Would you be wanting a book today?”
    â€œUh, yeah, I think so,” Kat replied. “I’m looking for a present for my friend. It’s her birthday.”
    â€œWould she be around your age then?” the bookseller inquired, setting down his notebook and wiping his hands on a pea-green apron that must have been as old as he was.
    â€œUh, yeah, we’re the same age,” Kat replied. “I really want to give her something special. And she loves to read.” Saying that, Kat remembered when she and Jules used to devour books and have reading contests during the summer to see who could read the most pages in a week. That hadn’t happened in a while. In fact, Kat could barely remember the last book she had picked up because she wanted to read it.
    â€œHow about one of the Harry Potters?” suggested the old man. “They’re still quite