Pick 'n' Mix by Jean Ure Page B

impressing people cos she starts on this pretend swooning and fainting when she finds one of her favourites.
    â€œPieter Kruger! Yum yum!” She’s pressing the CD to her lips and making slobbery kissy noises over it. “Yummy yummy yummy, y—”
    Skye makes a strangulated yelping sound and bolts for the exit. I grab the CD and stuff it back into the rack, then seize hold of Melia and march her out, followed by Jem, still giggling.
    â€œWell, I’m glad someone finds it funny,” hissed Skye.
    By now it wasn’t just Jem who was giggling but Melia too, except that she wasn’t so much giggling as giving these great swooping cackles like something out of a comic strip. Hoo hoo hoo! I don’t think she really knew what she was laughing at; she just wanted to join in with Jem. Skye tutted, impatiently.
    â€œYour face,” choked Jem. She contorted her features into a mad grimace, her teeth bared and her lips pulled back. “If you could have seen it!”
    Skye doesn’t like to be laughed at. I don’t suppose anyone does. But it is worse for somebody like Skye, who is always so serious and tries so hard to be dignified.
    â€œThis is a disaster ,” she said.
    â€œOh, I dunno,” said Jem, “I think it’s quite fun! You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
    She nudged at Melia, and Melia beamed proudly. I guess she thought she was pleasing us.
    â€œLet’s just go ,” said Skye.
    I said, “What, you mean go home?”
    She looked at me, long and hard. “What else would you suggest?”
    Jem giggled again. “We could always go into Smith’s and let Melia trash the magazines.”
    â€œYes, yes!” Melia clapped her hands. “Go into Smith’s! Go into Smith’s!”
    â€œNo, thank you, ” said Skye.
    I thought she was probably right, and that it might be best to take Melia back home. I wasn’t honestly sure how much more my nerves could stand.
    â€œMind you, we shouldn’t ever have been in China and Glass in the first place,” I said. “Might have known she’d knock something over.”
    Skye stopped. She put her hands on her hips.
    â€œAre you saying it was my fault?”
    â€œI’m just saying. I don’t even know what we were doing there! Wasn’t like you bought anything.”
    â€œHey, hey!” Before me and Skye could fall out, Jem had come prancing up, with Melia in tow. “Let’s go into Boots and try out lipsticks!”
    It was one of our favourite pastimes, going into Boots and sampling the cosmetics. I was tempted, in spite of myself. It seemed a bit of a waste, being in the shopping centre and not going into Boots.
    â€œOh, come on!” said Jem. “There’s nothing she can break.”
    â€œFamous last words,” muttered Skye.
    Well, she didn’t break anything. She didn’t knock anything over. She didn’t start shouting and draw attention to herself. In fact, to be honest, we kind of forgot about her for a few minutes. It was almost like it was just the three of us, same as usual. And then I said, “Oh, God, where’s Melia?” and we all started flying about in a panic. We found her happily standing in front of a mirror with a tube of lipstick in her hand. She’d gone mad and plastered herself! Bright green eye shadow, with cheeks like big red beach balls and eyelashes sticking out in spider’s legs, stiff with mascara. She’d painted her eyebrows soot black, two furry caterpillars crawling across her brow, and was busy coating her lips with purple lipstick. I snatched it from her.
    â€œThat’s not a tester!”
    â€œOh, God, oh, God,” moaned Skye. “Put it back, quick, before someone sees!”
    We bundled out, in a panic – and then immediately began to worry in case we might have been caught on camera.
    â€œIt’s theft,” said Skye. “We could be