It's an Aardvark-Eat-Turtle World by Paula Danziger

14
    â€œT ime to go shopping.” Mrs. Carson comes into the kitchen. “Bev and Aviva have promised to give us a guided tour of Eaton Center.”
    â€œAre you going too?” I’m glad that Phoebe asks Jason.
    He shakes his head. “I hate malls.”
    That’s something that we have in common. I would prefer to stay behind but it wouldn’t be right, since Phoebe’s mom and Plastic Pop paid for my trip.
    Jason says, “See you later, I hope,” and seems to look straight at me.
    As we go out, Phoebe says in a surprised whisper, “He likes you. I can tell.”
    I say nothing and hope no one heard her. It would be so embarrassing if someone did hear and Jason really didn’t like me. Once, in the seventh grade, I had this tremendous crush on a boy and let him know. He acted really gross, ignoring me and making me feel like slug slime. Since then I’ve been sort of scared to show my feelings. In dating I guess I’m a late bloomer with an early inferiority complex.
    Mrs. Carson and Bev are in the front of the car and we three kids sit in the back.
    As the car heads to the mall, Aviva says, “I’m going to be your official tour guide. I did a school report on Eaton Center and I have lots of semi-useless information that I can give you.”
    Bev says, “Aviva’s got a photographic memory.”
    â€œOh, Mom.” Aviva turns red.
    Even moms who are great can be embarrassing.
    We’re just going to a shopping mall, I think. There’s nothing so special about that. Shopping malls are all over the country. There’re even some in Kingston, the city near Woodstock.
    We get to Eaton Center and park.
    Walking inside, I realize that it’s not just any shopping mall.
    Aviva begins. “This place is 300,000 square meters. That’s over three million square feet in American. Fifteen thousand people work here.”
    â€œThat’s more people than live in Woodstock, even in the summer.” I shake my head.
    The place is really something. There are glass-enclosed elevators. There’s a fountain that’s timed to shoot water up in the air at certain times in certain patterns. It reminds me of trying to toilet-train the Little Nerdlet.
    Aviva takes a deep breath and continues. “There are fifty fashion stores, more than two dozen shoe stores, more than sixty restaurants, fast-food outlets, and specialty food shops. There are also twenty-one movie theaters.”
    I think of the Tinker Street Cinema back in Woodstock. It holds 162 people.
    Phoebe grins. “I could live in this place. Let’s start checking out some of the stores.”
    We take the elevator up to the mall’s third floor and go into a very ritzy-looking store.
    Phoebe and her mother immediately start trying on clothes.
    Everything is designer-labeled and designer-priced. I don’t even like the clothes. They’re not my style.
    Sitting on a chair, I watch as they all look in the mirrors.
    Mrs. Carson comes over and says, “Rosie. Pick out an outfit. I’d love to get it for you.”
    â€œThanks. But there’s nothing here for me.” I smile at her.
    They continue to try on clothes.
    Phoebe’s smiling. “This is so fun.”
    Mrs. Carson looks at her. “Honey, if you lived with us in New York, we’d be able to shop all the time. And the schools are so much better.”
    â€œMom,” Phoebe says.
    â€œAnd you’d have your own room,” Mrs. Carson continues.
    I’ll just take the knife out of my heart right now, I think.
    â€œMom.” Phoebe makes a face. “I don’t want to talk about that now.”
    I notice that she’s said “now.”
    They continue to try on clothes.
    Phoebe always used to make fun of the way her mother dresses. It’s weird that she’s so into shopping at this store.
    Aviva comes over and sits down beside me. “I’m tired of this already. Why