Amber's Song by Kaitlyn Pitts

Author:Kaitlyn Pitts
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2021-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

I jumped out of my chair and excused myself. But instead of heading for the bathroom (like I had to pretend in order to leave), I sprinted toward the art tables. When I got there (a little breathless), Counselor Sam was picking up the shirts from the table. Both my shirt and Maxine’s were already gone. I guessed they were in the small stack over his arm.

“Wait!” I held up a hand and used the other to press down on a cramp in my side as I caught my breath.

“Don’t worry, they’re dry,” Counselor Sam said. He ran his hand over the horse on Gio’s shirt. “See?”

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, no.” I shook my head and swallowed. “I mean . . . I forgot to put my name on my shirt!”

“That’s not a problem,” Sam said. “You know which one’s yours, don’t you?”

I reached for the small stack in his arms. “I do. But Maxine made hers . . . look a lot like mine,” I said, trying to be nice about it. “I don’t want them to get mixed up.”

“Oh, well, it should be right here.” He quickly rummaged through them. “Here! This is it, isn’t?”

“It looks like mine,” I said hesitatingly. “Uhhh . . .” I looked it over carefully. “No. This one’s Maxine’s actually.” I pointed to the smeary horse. “See?”

Sam frowned at it. “Oh, yeah, you’re right. I tried my best to fix that.”

“So, um, can I please put my name on mine so that Maxine and I don’t get them confused?”

“Sure.” Sam peeled my T-shirt from the pile in his arms. “That must mean that this one is yours. Oh, no, wait. This one says ‘Max’ on it,”

“What?”

He leaned down to show me. There, on the front of my shirt near the bottom, just above the hem, were three capital letters in tiny handwriting: MAX.

“But that’s wrong!” I blurted. “This is my shirt! See?” I pointed to the row of horses at the collar. They were all neat and evenly printed.

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess it was an honest mistake. You know you guys made them look exactly the same.”

“No, we didn’t . . .” I said under my breath. Out loud, I said, “What am I going to do? This is written with fabric marker. It won’t wash off!”

“Why don’t you just keep hers and you let her have yours? They’re like clones of each other, anyway,” Sam said with a smile.

Why didn’t he understand? “No! I want my shirt! The one I worked on!” I felt tears starting to rise up in my eyes. I blinked them back down.

“Okay, okay,” Sam seemed alarmed to see that I was getting upset. “Let’s see, what are your options? Well, you can scribble it out, but that probably won’t look so good. You can try stamping over it with something. Or we can cut it out. You know, cut an inch off the bottom of the T-shirt.”

I didn’t like any of the choices, but they seemed to be the only choices I had.

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