We stared at each other for a moment.

"Uh, don't all volunteer at once," Claudia murmured.

"If 11 be four hours next Saturday and Sunday," Stacey said. "If s not a big deal, like Macy's. All you do is ring a bell and walk around the third floor, talking to kids."

Kristy chimed in, "Check the schedule. See who's available."

Mary Anne flipped through our calendar. "Well, I'm going to California, and so are Kristy and Claudia. Mal's got the Prezziosos Sunday afternoon. Shannon has the Papadakises…"

I knew this was going to happen. I could feel it. Everyone was looking at me. My stomach began to rumble.

I was trapped.

"Uh, guys, I can't," I squeaked.

"Why not?" Kristy demanded.

"Three small things," I replied. "I'm eleven years old. I'm a girl. And I'm black. Remember?"

"So?" Claudia said. "I'd do it if I could."

I raised my eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Right."

I should mention that when my family first moved to Stoneybrook, we felt like aliens.

Some people did not accept us at all.

"You shouldn't think about race," Claudia went on. "Kids aren't prejudiced the way grown-ups are."

"Besides, who says Santa can't be black?" asked Shannon.

"That’s true," I said. Besides, / always liked seeing African-American Santas in Oakley, New Jersey, where I grew up. Sure, that was a racially mixed town compared to Stoneybrook, but why shouldn't children of color here have someone to look up to? Not necessarily me, but —

"So you'll do it?" Stacey asked.

"I didn't say that!" I protested.

"Come on . . ." Shannon teased. "Think of those kids."

"It'd be fun," Mary Anne said.

It did sound like fun. Sort of.

I shrugged. "I don't know . . ."

"Yes!" Kristy shouted. "I knew she'd do it!"

"Wait!"

Too late. Stacey called back her mom, who said I should go for a fitting after the meeting.