7. The Buddy System

7 The Buddy System We piled back into the minivan and stopped off for lunch (Pizza! Yum!), and then we drove to my favorite store in the whole world—Staples! I love Staples because they have rows and rows of pens and pencils and glue sticks and highlighters and notebooks and rubber bands and paper clips and everything else students need to do well in school. (They

even sell staples!) Our school sent out a list of supplies we would need this year. There was a big sign on the front of Staples that said BACK-TO-SCHOOL SALE. Staples is huge. When we got out of the minivan, our moms said Arlo and I had to use the buddy system to make sure that one of us (guess who?) didn't get lost in the store again. "You kids need to stay together at all times," my mom told us. "Do you understand?" "Yes!" I said. Arlo grunted. "And to be safe," Arlo's mom said, "I want you to hold hands." "WHAT?" Arlo shouted. "I'm not holding hands with a girl!" "A.J.!" said Arlo's mom with her hands on her hips.

Arlo held my hand. "Let's skip!" I said. "No!" When we stepped on the rubber doormat and the front door of Staples slid open, it was almost like I could hear angels singing. There were school supplies as far as the eye could see! Crayons and calculators and clipboards and hole punchers and scissors and rulers and tape and glitter glue and Post-it notes in lots of different colors, shapes, and sizes.

"I could spend all day here," I said.

Our moms went to look at the office furniture. They told us again that we had to stay together and hold hands at all times. We got a shopping cart. Someday, when Arlo and I are married, we'll go shopping together just like this, except that Arlo will sit on a bench outside and wait for me to finish. That's what husbands do. "Where should we go first?" I asked Arlo. "Home," he replied. "Let's look at pens!" I said, because pens are something you need every day at school. When we got to the pen aisle, a funny- looking man came over to us. "May I help you?" he asked. "We need to buy pens for school," I said. "You're in luck," he said. "My name is Mr. Debakey. I'm a pen specialist." A pen specialist? I never heard of a pen specialist. Mr. Debakey took a little box out

of his pocket. "May I suggest this Montblanc Meisterstück Classique writing instrument?" he said. "It's been engineered for precise handling and comfort, and it features a reliable swivel mechanism. As you can see, it has a beautiful jet-black finish with twenty-three-carat, gold-plated trim." "Wow," I said. "How much does it cost?" "Three hundred and fifty-seven dollars." "Three hundred and fifty-seven dollars for a pen?" Arlo shouted. "You gotta be joking." "I never joke about pens," said Mr. Debakey. "Look, we just need some plain old pens, okay?" said Arlo. "Nothing fancy." Mr. Debakey looked disappointed. "Fine," he said. "I believe a pen must be carefully matched to its user. I want you to