Only Girls Allowed by Debra Moffitt Page A

it would be inappropriate for me to seize this piece of personal property. Blah-blah-blah. We are returning this laptop in the hope that the girls will use it only for productive purposes. Sincerely yours, Prinicpal Finklestein.”
    â€œ
Viva la
U.S. Mail!” Piper yelled out.
    My mother giggled and said, “Okay, girls. Looks like you can have this computer back. Where did it come from, anyway?”
    â€œIt was mine,” Piper said, “Thanks.”
    She grabbed the laptop and we followed her back to the family room.
    â€œ
Viva la
laptop!” Piper whispered when we were out of my mother’s earshot.
    It was just a cold piece of plastic technology, but having the computer back sent us on a trip down memory lane.
    â€œRemember our first meeting when Jem couldn’t open the pink locker?” Piper said.
    â€œAnd remember when Jem decided that Forrest needed a personal tour?” Kate said.
    In the weeks since we’d been permanently shut down, I had confessed my wrongdoing.
    â€œHey, does anyone remember that we actually did some good?” I said. “People loved us. We had fans.”
    â€œLet’s turn it on,” Piper said, “just for old time’s sake.”
    â€œIt’s just a computer now. It’s nice to have, but not that special anymore,” I said.
    â€œLet’s see if there’s anything left,” Piper said, and spun the laptop toward her.
    â€œWhat must Edith think?” Kate said, “We should have sent her a PLS-SOS.”
    â€œAnd say what? That we’ve been banned?” Piper said.
    Piper clicked around and found that the site was still there. But it was frozen in time, still showing that message about being temporarily shut down.
    Meanwhile, between bites of pizza, Kate and I kept talking about all that had happened.
    â€œIf you could go back in time, would you do anything differently? Like maybe never step through the pink locker door?” Kate asked me.
    â€œNo, I think I’d still go. Well, I’d still go if you pulled me in.”
    â€œOh, my gosh, remember the snacks?” Kate said.
    â€œ
Viva la
snacks!” said Piper, pumping a fist in the air and then getting back to her clicking and clacking. Then we heard the laptop start humming; its internal fan started whirring, and simultaneously all three of our phones sprang to life. The old “Think pink!” ringtone. We had messages—Pink Locker Society messages!
    â€œIt’s probably just Piper cranking us,” Kate said.
    â€œYeah, Pipes. That’s cruel. You got us all excited,” I said.
    â€œ
Viva la
text messages!” Piper said. “Look for yourselves.”
    She spun the laptop toward Kate and me and we saw it was true. Piper, the computer whiz, had linked us back into our Pink Locker Society mailbox, and we now had dozens of unread text messages. Most of them came in more than a month ago, before news started to trickle out that the site was down, apparently forever. We wanted to read each and every one.
    Â 
    My best friend stole my boyfriend. What do I do?
    Â 
    Can I go on vacation while I have my period?
    Â 
    People tease me because I don’t wear makeup. What should I do?
    Â 
    I have a huge crush on my teacher. Help!
    Â 
    I do not have pretty feet. Should I wear sandals anyway?
    Â 
    I’m the shortest girl in my class, and I’m sick of the nicknames. What should I do?
    Â 
    Everyone tells me I look fine, but I still feel fat. How can I lose weight?
    On and on they went, a rainbow of woes. Each one represented a person’s sincere question. Some were serious issues, others more minor, but each one mattered to someone.
    â€œGosh, this stinks that we can’t answer any of them,” Kate said. “We’ve just abandoned them.”
    â€œLook how the number of messages trailed off in the last few weeks. They’re forgetting about us,” I said.
    â€œRead this one,”