CHAPTER 23

THE PRICE OF A PHONE

     I remember how excited Bones was when he got his first ever phone. At the end of fourth grade, Bones set a goal for himself to have a phone before he went into middle school. He said he wrote it down somewhere in his room because, according to him, that was the only way to reach a goal. You had to write it down.

We rode our bikes to the phone store together just two days before we started sixth grade at Ben Franklin. It was brutally hot that day. The store at Tice's Corner was having a big promotion and giving away a bunch of smartphones. I remember telling Bones on the ride over that the line was going to be a mile long and we could melt before we actually got in. But Bones didn't care. He was going to get that phone.

When we got there, it was just like I had thought: the line was a mile long, and we had to sit outside and get broiled by the sun. Of course Bones acted like it was a cool, spring day. People started dropping out one by one. Even I couldn't take the heat anymore, so I went into the Abercrombie next door and pretended like I was going to buy something.

After about a half hour of standing out there, Bones had made it right up to the front doors of the store, so I put down the pair of jeans I had been looking at for about ten minutes and ran out to join him. The manager of the phone store was standing at the entrance, only letting in one person at a time.

He was like the Line Police—if you left your place in line, you had to go all the way back to the end.

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