Nobody answered. The boy had both hands over his mouth.
“What are you all looking at?”
She flipped her phone around to use it as a mirror.
The stream was still live, so eleven hundred people got the view with her.
Pink. Glittering. Sitting on her shoulder.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
She poked it. Her finger came away connected to it by a thread.
“IS THAT SLIME?!”
“IS THAT SLIME?!”
“Slime, sweetheart. It was meant for my granddaughter. You’re an early adopter.”
“YOU PUT SLIME IN MY HAIR?!”
“Your hair was in my lunch. I thought we were exchanging things.”
“THESE EXTENSIONS COST EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS!”
“Yes, dear. You’ve mentioned that. I’d keep my hands away from it.”
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”
“I thought we were exchanging things.”
The slime didn’t tear. It stretched, a long glittering rope from her head to her hand.
