I frown before unlocking my phone. Priti’s already scooting closer, trying—unsubtly—to peer at the screen over my shoulder. I push her back, and shoot her a glare.
“What are you doing?”
“I just wanna see. Include me!”
I hold the phone away from her prying eyes. “Mind your business.”
She huffs but picks up her own phone and begins to scroll through her Instagram feed.
One new text, my phone’s notification center declares.
Flávia:just wanted to let you know your plan didn’t work
I frown before quickly typing back,what plan?
The three dots that indicate she’s typing appear almost instantly. I say to my heart,stop beating so loudly! We don’t like her!But as always, my heart refuses to listen, so I wait for her reply with an increased pulse.
Flávia:contacted the guy at the shop and there’ll be new henna tubes by the end of the week!! Will pick up first thing Monday and be ready for business
“Ugh.”
Priti looks over with a haughty smile that does nothing to make my mood better. “Trouble in paradise?”
“My plan didn’t work. Flávia says Raj Uncle will have the henna tubes in by the end of the week, and we’re supposed to be showcasing our businesses to the school for the first time next Monday.”
“She’s texting you?” Priti doesn’t sound too happy about that. “How does she have your phone number?”
“Chyna, I guess.” I shrug. “Anyway, the point is … I have to think of something else. She’s already got so much interest, and wherever Chyna goes a huge crowd of people follow, so …”
“So you need to find a way to delay the shipment.” Priti taps her chin, thoughtfully.
“I don’t think I have the means to do something that big. You need to think smaller.”
“Apujan.” Priti gasps dramatically. “Who, in the history of the world, has achieved greatness by saying that we need to thinksmaller?”
“Hopefully me,” I say, as I quickly type out a response to Flávia. There’s no way she’s going to have the last word. And there’s no way I’m going to let her think she’s won. Even if she has. So I write,great, super happy for you:):):),hoping that the sarcasm is obvious enough to bother her.
“You could buy out Raj Uncle again?” Priti offers when I look up from my phone.
“I can’t, unless I want to take a major loss.”
“You could steal the henna tubes from her!”
I don’t think Priti’s being serious, because she’s still tapping her chin thoughtfully, but that idea somehow seems totally perfect.
“I could do that,” I say. “I think …”
“What?” Priti turns to me with furrowed eyebrows.
“Steal the henna tubes.”
“That’s theft.”
“Only for a short while. Long enough for it to make a difference. Think of it as … borrowing, not stealing.”
“Apujan … I was just kidding. I’m pretty sure you’d get in trouble for that,” she says.
“Not if I don’t get caught.”
