True Colors by Jill Santopolo

one
Not-So-Mellow Yellow
    G ive that back!” Brooke Tanner yelled as she chased her puppy around the living room couch and underneath the leaves of a rubber plant. “Sparkly, I mean it!”
    But Sparkly didn’t listen. With Brooke’s glittery Not-So-Mellow Yellow—colored hair band hanging out of his tiny mouth, the puppy raced up the steps and then back down. Brooke was at his heels.
    â€œSparkly, stop!” Brooke shouted. “Now! Stop!”
    â€œMaybe if you stopped chasing him, he’d stoprunning!” Aly Tanner called from the kitchen. It was early Tuesday morning, and Aly was preparing two bowls of cereal for breakfast: a purple bowl for herself, and a pink one for her younger sister, Brooke. Both bowls had granola inside. And blueberries.
    â€œBut I want my hair band!” Brooke shouted back to her sister.
    â€œLike I said, if you want it back, just stop running!” Aly yelled into the living room.
    â€œBut what if he eats it when I stop?” Brooke sped into the kitchen after Sparkly, who leapt over the girls’ backpacks. Brooke leapt over them too, but her sneaker caught in her backpack strap and— bam! —she crashed to the ground.
    â€œOw!” she screamed. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
    Aly went running over. For a minute she wondered if Brooke was fine and just being dramatic, which was the case with Brooke a lot of the time. But tears wererunning down Brooke’s cheeks, and she was holding her arm against her stomach.
    â€œI heard it crack, Aly,” she sobbed. “Get Mom.”
    Now it was Aly’s turn to race through the house, ducking under the leaves of the rubber plant, flying around furniture and then up the stairs until she got to their parents’ bathroom.
    â€œBrooke fell! She thinks her arm is broken!” Aly pounded on the door, yelling over the sound of a hair dryer.
    â€œWhat did you say, sweetie?” the girls’ mom asked as she cracked open the door.
    Aly repeated herself, and then Mom took off, racing down the steps two at a time, Aly right behind her. When they reached the kitchen, Brooke was right where Aly had left her, still on the floor, still crying. Sparkly was whining and nudging Brooke’s hair band toward her.
    â€œThat won’t help anymore, Sparkly!” Brooke whimpered through her tears.
    Mom bent down, asked Brooke a few questions, touched her arm in a few spots—which made Brooke yell even louder—and then said to Aly, “I have to take your sister to the hospital. Please call Joan and tell her what happened. She’ll have to take you to school today.”
    As much as Aly liked spending time with Joan—who was the girls’ favorite manicurist at their mom’s salon, True Colors—she didn’t like this plan at all. What if something was really wrong with Brooke? What if Brooke needed her? Aly couldn’t go to school. She had to be there for Brooke. The sisters were a team.
    â€œCan’t I come with you and Brooke?” she asked. “To make her feel better?”
    Mom shook her head. “Sorry, Aly,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen at the hospital orhow long it’ll take. You can go straight to the salon after school. Either I’ll be there or Joan will fill you in. You have her number, right?”
    Aly nodded. “It’s on the refrigerator, just like it always is.”
    Brooke wasn’t crying as hard now, which made Aly feel a little bit better about leaving her. But not all better about it.
    Mom ran her hand through her hair, which she hadn’t finished drying, and twisted it into a messy bun. “It’s times like these that I wish your father didn’t travel all week long.”
    â€œDo you think he’ll come home early?” Brooke asked, sniffling, as Mom carefully helped her up off the floor.
    â€œLet’s call him from the car,” Mom said.
    Once Mom pulled the