Three girls sat on the floor, staring at the Mickey Mouse clock on Stacy Rowe's bedroom wall. The hands crawled to one minute past seven, and Quinn bounced up to sit on the bed--the official seat for the President of the Fashion Club.
The President who, for the first time any of them could remember, was late for the meeting.
"I call this meeting to order!" Quinn said, sliding easily into her duties as Vice President. "First on the agenda is to discuss plans for Thanksgiving, which is two days away."
Stacy timidly held up a hand. "Um, don't we usually start by reviewing the minutes of the previous meeting?"
Quinn shrugged. "We were all there. I think we can skip it this time, okay?"
Tiffany and Stacy looked at each other with wide eyes, then smiled at Quinn. "Okay!"
The atmosphere in the room abruptly dropped into a more relaxed mood. Quinn continued. "Anyway, we need to go over food restrictions. Obviously if you must eat turkey, then only go for the white meat. It's lower in both calories and fat. The whole meal is likely to be a total carb-fest, so go light on everything. Green bean casserole sounds like it would be healthy, but beware: it usually contains stuff like cheese and fried onions and condensed soup."
"So...what can we eat?" Stacy asked.
Quinn sighed. "With any luck there will be a relish tray with carrots, celery, and other fresh vegetables. Since it's a holiday, you can have up to two tablespoons of ranch dip to go with them, all right?"
"Thaaaaanks," Tiffany said with a grateful nod.
"Now, as for the day after Thanksgiving," Quinn began.
"Black Friday!" Stacy chimed in, then gasped. "Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!"
"It's fine, Stacy." Quinn smiled, and Stacy's breathing returned to normal. "Anyway, I think it goes without saying that we'll be staying far away from the mall or any other shopping centers that day."
Stacy and Tiffany both looked miserable at this announcement. Quinn even detected a slight whimper.
"It's only for one day, guys," she reassured them. "I mean, do you really want to rub elbows with the losers out there fighting over electronics?"
Tiffany wrinkled her nose. "Not their elboooows," she said, disgusted.
"Think about the crowds, the jostling, the broken nails," Quinn continued.
Stacy covered her ears. "No more!" she cried. "You've made your point!"
Quinn nodded sympathetically. "Now that we've settled that, I'd like to open the floor to discussion on our alternate plans for Black Friday."
"We will be shopping at Cashman's," Sandi cut in, entering the room at that moment.
"What?!" all three girls asked in shock.
Sandi nodded. "In fact, I insist on it."
"But, Sandi," Quinn said, eyes wide. "We were just discussing--"
"You were carrying out Fashion Club business without me present?" Sandi demanded.
Quinn gulped. "Well, you were late, so we thought we should start...without you."
"Hm." Sandi's narrowed eyes swept the room. Stacy could barely look at her, and even Tiffany looked uncomfortable. She turned her attention back to Quinn. "You're in my spot."
Quinn immediately dropped onto the floor. "But about Black Friday, Sandi. Do you really think it's a good idea?"
Sandi crossed her arms as she settled onto the bed. "I absolutely think so. You see, the reason I was...ahem...tardy was because I just got the news that Cashman's is going to have the new MacGuffin brand satin scrunchie with rhinestone accents available for purchase--on Friday only."
The rest of the Fashion Club gasped. MacGuffins were the apex of scrunchies, and the latest model had been the talk of the fashion world for months.
Sandi went on. "They will have only a limited supply available, and I can assure you that Brooke and all the other posers will be doing everything they can to get their poorly-manicured hands on them. We cannot," she said, slamming her fist into her hand for emphasis, "let them outshine us. Do you understand?"
Quinn, Stacy, and Tiffany all nodded solemnly.
"Very good. Now, the rest of this meeting will be spent making our plans for Black Friday. Step one...."
They schemed for hours, only ending the meeting when their curfews drew irritatingly near. The rest of the week went by quickly, and as the members of the Fashion Club turned down one Thanksgiving side after another all they could think about was rhinestone-accented scrunchies.
The sun hadn't even risen when the Fashion Club convened outside the Lawndale Mall. Sandi, as official timekeeper, kept her watch close to her face as she counted down the minutes to Cashman's early opening time. The other girls carefully sized up the growing crowd of shoppers to mentally separate them into three groups: inconsequential, competition, and prey.
Quinn completed a brief inspection of the club members to check for dark circles or other evidence of tiredness. Satisfied, she turned her attention to the brief last-minute tactical discussion, carried out in low voices to avoid alerting any outsiders to the mission.
"Our agent on the inside," Sandi said, meaning Theresa, "informs me that the scrunchies will be displayed in the northwest corner of the store. Our objective is to reach that display before anyone else and claim at least one scrunchie each."
"What if they run out before we get there?" Stacy fretted.
"Stacy, don't even think that!" Quinn scolded.
Sandi tapped her watch with a smirk as a nervous employee unlocked the doors. "I knew I'd set it precisely," she said, or started to say because as soon as the doors opened she and her friends were swept inside with the rest of the horde.
The sudden entrance disoriented the girls for a few moments, but their training quickly took over. "Commence Operation Pinstripe," Sandi ordered.
They went straight to work, all business now that they'd regained focus on their objective. Stacy zeroed in on a group of girls around their age and pushed her way through the crowd toward them. "Did you hear?" she said loudly to no one in particular once she was within their hearing. "They put the MacGuffin scrunchies in the automotive section!"
The girls, plus a dozen or so others, immediately began moving toward the car supplies. This thinned the crowd enough to allow the Fashion Club to progress toward the northwest corner. They didn't make it very far before a voice in the distance shouted, "These aren't scrunchies! These are hose clamps!"
The Fashion Club exchanged worried glances as they heard the sound of running feet coming toward them. "Execute the Boatneck Maneuver!" Sandi barked.
Immediately Tiffany turned around and began shoving displays and spinner racks over, blocking the path of the oncoming mob of crazed teenage shoppers.
"That only buys us a minute or two," Sandi said, then pointed at Quinn. "The Taffeta Gambit! Now!"
Quinn stepped forward in front of the crowd, now nearly upon them, as the other three continued onward in pursuit of their prize. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out fistfuls of money and hurled it into the air. The bills were fake, but looked real enough to distract most of the crowd. While they lunged and fought amongst each other, Quinn dashed after her friends.
As she rejoined the rest of the Fashion Club, Quinn glanced over her shoulder to see that a few shoppers were still chasing after her. "We need Project Camisole!" she cried.
Stacy heard her cue and snapped into action with military efficiency. Whirling around, she planted her feet, squared her shoulders, and burst into tears. The horde slowed down in confusion, but didn't stop. "Oh God I can't believe I'm too late!" she wailed. "They're gone! They're all gone, and I'll never have another chance to get a MacGuffin! It's not faaaair!"
This got everyone's attention, and heads turned in her direction. "You mean they're sold out already?" someone asked.
Stacy nodded and choked out a miserable sob. "I was too slow, and this really mean person got the last one and I'm always missing out on anything good. Why am I such a loser?"
The crowd started breaking up, partly because they felt awkward listening to Stacy's insecurities and partly because they wanted to move on to other options now that the MacGuffins were (supposedly) gone. Unfortunately for the Fashion Club, a few skeptics pushed past Stacy and continued forward.
Stacy wiped away her fake tears and shouted, "Incoming!"
Sandi glanced back and saw that they were still being followed. "Code Aubergine!"
Quinn craned her neck to see that the scrunchie display was just barely in range. "Are you sure?" she asked, worried. "I don't think we're close enough--"
"I said Code Aubergine!" Sandi bellowed. Quinn obediently turned to face her, and the two grasped arms. Tiffany took a few quick steps back, then ran forward as fast as she could. She stepped into the cradle made by Sandi and Quinn, who launched her into the air like a fashionable missile headed straight for the scrunchie display. She soared right over the heads of their fellow shoppers, already preparing to pillage the scrunchie display. Landing with a surprisingly graceful crouch, she pounced on the scrunchies just moments before the rest.
That was the last moment the rest of the Fashion Club saw Tiffany, because immediately after, the mob enveloped her. Stacy climbed through a few clothing racks and was able to catch up to Sandi and Quinn. The three of them began pushing through the crowd as quickly as they could. They finally made it to the front of the group to see an empty display labeled "MacGuffin" and Tiffany curled up on the floor in the fetal position.
"Are you okay?" Stacy asked her, crouching down to check on her friend.
At the same time, Sandi shrieked, "They're gone! They're all gone! Whyyyyy?!" Quinn elbowed her sharply in the side, and Sandi looked down. "Oh, and Tiffany looks like she's hurt. We should do something."
"I'm okaaaaay," Tiffany said, getting slowly to her feet. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection.
"Are you hurt?" Quinn asked, worried. "Did you get kicked in the stomach?"
Tiffany shook her head, then smiled and opened her arms to reveal she was holding scrunchies. MacGuffin brand satin scrunchies with rhinestone accents.
"You did it!" Sandi cheered, grabbing Tiffany in a hug. Stacy and Quinn joined in, and the girls began hopping up and down and squealing with joy.
"But we need to buy these and get out of here before anyone sees we have them," Sandi pointed out, pulling away. "We can't take any chances. Who knows what underhanded tricks people might play to get these scrunchies?"
Quinn, Stacy, and Tiffany shook their heads sadly, thinking about the kind of people who would go to such drastic lengths. Then they made their way to the check-out line. Tiffany clutched the scrunchies tightly the whole way and didn't release them until they'd reached the counter. She set them reverently down in front of the cashier, who scanned each one.
"Three scrunchies," the cashier said, and before she could even announce the cost, the Fashion Club had gasped in horror.
"Three?" Stacy asked. "Only three?"
"I graaabbed all the scrunchies that were leeeft!" Tiffany protested.
"But why didn't you tell us there were only three?" Sandi demanded.
"I didn't count theeem," she replied, defensive.
"Couldn't count them, you mean," Quinn muttered bitterly.
"So what are we going to do?" Stacy wailed plaintively.
"Pay for your purchase?" the cashier asked, eying the growing line of impatient shoppers behind them.
"Not until we decide who will go without a scrunchie," Sandi declared. "Now, Tiffany is the one who collected an insufficient number in the first place."
"You threw me at the display!" Tiffany said, dropping her slow drawl in her anger. "I definitely should get one of them!"
"Well, I'm the one who found out about the scrunchies in the first place and organized our successful operation," Sandi pointed out.
"Not completely successful," Quinn pointed out, gesturing at the three scrunchies.
"Look, someone has to walk away disappointed," Sandi argued. She, Quinn, and Tiffany all became quiet at that and turned to look at Stacy.
"Oh, don't you dare!" Stacy cried. "If it wasn't for my acting skills, we never would have gotten close to those scrunchies!"
"Excuse me," the cashier said, raising her voice. "If you don't pay for your merchandise and clear the line, I'm going to put these back and none of you will get them!"
Several ears behind them in line pricked up at this, and all four girls quickly thrust credit cards at the cashier. She picked one, ran the transaction, and shoved the bagged scrunchies at them. Four hands closed on the handles, and the Fashion Club left the store in a slow-moving knot. None of them was willing to let go.
Once they were outside, they turned to glare at each other. "How do we settle this?" Quinn asked, her eyes darting from one friend to another as though watching for any sign of weakness.
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe?" Stacy suggested.
"Are you seriously proposing that we use a childish game to determine a fashion conundrum of this magnitude?" Sandi asked incredulously.
"Fine, then what do you want to do?" Stacy retorted.
"Rock paper scissors."
Tiffany wrinkled her nose. "Rocks. Ewww."
"Listen, what if we put together some kind of rotation?" Quinn asked.
"We're not talking about a timeshare, Quinn," Sandi said.
Quinn let out an angry sigh and rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't just stand here holding onto the shopping bag forever," she pointed out.
"Good point. Allow me!" Taking advantage of the distraction, Brooke reached in and snatched the bag away from all of them. They had unconsciously relaxed their grip during the argument, and Brooke was able to yank it away and start running before any of them realized what had happened.
"She's got our scrunchies!" Stacy shrieked, horrified. "What do we do now?"
Sandi narrowed her eyes at Brooke's retreating back. "Commence Operation Ultrasuede."