Slant. Laura E. Williams

      After we retrieve Maia from all-day kindergarten, we head to the mall. Even though we live out in a countrylike setting, a huge mall is only a fifteen-minute walk away along back roads, under the highway overpass, and over a mound of grass that once used to be a rubble pile from the building site (according to Daddy, who was actually a teenager when they built the mall).

      Inside, there are at least five places I can have my ears pierced. I’d like to have it done in the back room where no one can see me, but Julie insists on this kiosk in the middle of the atrium.

      “But everyone will see me,” I protest.

      “Yeah,” Julie says, “look at alllll the people staring at you.”

      I look. We’re like flies on the wall in Africa for all the notice we’re getting.

      “Okay.” I give in. Besides, the girl working the kiosk is an older sister of someone on Julie’s softball team, and she won’t make us get a parent’s signature and all that.

      I hand over the twenty bucks my dad gave me this morning and choose a pair of gold studs. The loopy earrings Daddy gave me for my birthday will have to wait until I can take these out.

      “Sit right here,” the girl tells me.

      I have to enter the kiosk and sit on this high, black chair. Now I’m sure I’m totally noticeable, but actually only Maia and Julie are paying any attention. Oh, and the girl about to jab holes in my ears. She’d better be paying attention!

      Finally she says, “Are you ready?”

      I hesitate. I’ve wanted pierced ears for how long? But it’s going to hurt. I just know it’s going to kill.

      “She’s ready,” Julie says for me.

      Yowch! But I don’t say anything out loud.