Panic Read Free

you to the mall so I can get some sparkly tights.”
    â€œYou’d have holes in them by the time we do that show.” Diamond laughed. “You’ve got plenty of time to get your costume together and tons of rehearsals before that.”
    â€œDo I get a magic wand?”
    â€œProbably. I’ll ask Miss Ginger.”
    â€œI want a purple one!” Shasta insisted. “Pinkie promise.” She held out the little finger of her right hand.
    Diamond hooked her finger to her sister’s tiny one. “I’ll do my best.”
    Appeased for the moment, Shasta headed back to the kitchen.
    â€œMom, we better go,” Diamond said. “Miss Ginger will kill us if we’re late for rehearsal.”
    â€œYou be careful driving, Mercedes,” Mrs. Landers said, glancing out the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.”
    â€œI will. I promise,” Mercedes replied. “I got my driver’s license on a rainy day,” she added, “so I’m cool.”
    Mrs. Landers continued to look worried. “And no texting while you drive. You don’t need to be on your phone at all until you get to the mall.”
    â€œYou got it, Mrs. L. No cell at all. We’ll just make a quick stop at the mall, and we’ll call you when we get to the school.”
    â€œBye, Mom. Love you! We’ll see you there!” Diamond yelled as she grabbed her hot pink dance bag and headed out the door.
    â€œBye, girls. Dance well. Can’t wait to see the showcase.”
    Diamond slammed the door and laughed out loud. “My mother is a trip! I swear!”
    â€œShe’s just doin’ her thing. Don’t sweat it.” Mercedes, pulling the hood of her Cincinnati Reds sweatshirt over her head, ran with Diamond, dodging raindrops, to her car.
    â€œToo bad you don’t get to drive a car as cool as your name,” Diamond said as she climbed into the sturdy blue 2004 Ford Focus. “Your ride is messed up.”
    â€œHey, my name is my car—no matter what I drive!” Mercedes replied with a smirk. “Today I drive my last name. But a Mercedes waits for me in my future.” She checked her hair in the rearview mirror, nodding with approval. Slicked back and sprayed into a bun, not a strand was out of place.
    â€œAt least you got a car.” Diamond sighed. “I can’t wait until I get my license. One more year! I’m so sick of my mom driving me everywhere, I could scream.” She glanced at Mercedes’ sleek black hair. Her own curls were tousled and unruly. It took practically a whole can of hair spray to make hers behave on performance nights.
    â€œI bet your mother is just as sick of being your driver. My mom can’t dance worth nuthin’, and she jumped around the house like a hoochie-coochie girl when I got my license.”
    â€œI’m glad I didn’t have to see that,” Diamond said with a laugh, buckling her seat belt.
    Mercedes turned the radio up. The windshield wipers seemed to move to the music.
    â€œHey, text Steve for me, will ya?” Mercedes asked. “Remind him to bring my chocolate bars to the backstage door.”
    â€œCan’t you just get some from the mall?” Diamond asked her as she took out her phone.
    â€œYeah, but candy from Steve tastes so much better,” Mercedes said, licking her lips.
    â€œYou’re a mess, girl.” But Diamond tapped in the message. Steve texted back in seconds. “He said he’d bring the candy to his favorite chocolate bunny. Oh, gag me now!”
    â€œHe texts me every single morning,” Mercedes said happily.
    â€œYeah, I know. It’s so sweet I can’t stand it.”
    â€œYou want to hear what he sent this morning?”
    â€œI don’t know—do I? My head might explode.”
    â€œHe said, ‘Morning, butterfly. Hope you slept well.’Then he sent me a link to Mariah Carey’s old song