Catch by Michelle D. Argyle Page B

to finish
this. They had to give her mom these pictures. She wasn’t sure why
it was such a deep need for her now, but as she and Julia had
trekked down the Strip and looked at the pictures of Grammy and her
sister, trying to pose in the exact same positions for their own
pictures, she had felt a strong connection to her grandmother. She
had been a real person, just like her, in a city that must have
been exciting and wild and fun. Had she fought with her own sister
like Miranda fought with Julia sometimes? Had she loved her just as
much? Had she ever been angry with her parents for leaving Brazil?
She hadn’t ever gone back, so she must not have minded too
much.
    “Thanks!” Julia said in an upbeat voice as
she handed their camera over to a middle-aged woman in a pair of
yoga pants and sneakers. Miranda could tell Julia was forcing her
excitement.
    “So, you want the big sign in it, then?”
    “Yeah, if you can,” Miranda answered as the
woman positioned the camera in front of her eye.
    “I’ll have to step way back,” she said. “Just
wait there.” The woman backed up until she was practically in the
side street, then angled the camera up and adjusted the lens until
it was at the widest angle possible. “Smile!” she yelled out.
    Miranda hugged Julia close to her, squeezing
and smiling until the woman was finished. Miranda thanked her and
waited until she’d walked off before looking at the picture. The
sign was a little cut off, but that didn’t matter so much since the
original sign in the picture was completely different anyway.
    “I look so fat next to you,” Julia grumbled
as she peered at the pictures while Miranda scrolled through
them.
    “Oh, you do not. Shut up.”
    “Yes, I do . I’m short and chubby and
you’re tall and thin.”
    Miranda nudged her in the ribs, realizing how
much she’d miss her at college. “You do realize I’ve always thought
you’re the prettier one, right?”
    Julia’s mouth fell open. “No.”
    “It’s true! You’re gorgeous, just like
Mom.”
    Julia looked herself up and down.
“Whatever.”
    “Believe it, sis.” Miranda swung her handbag
off her shoulder to put the camera back inside it. Once it was
between her wallet and her iPod, she carefully tucked the thick
stack of pictures at the bottom beneath a package of Kleenex.
    “I’m hungry,” Julia said as they turned
toward the bridge.
    Miranda looked at her watch. It was almost
three o’clock. They’d been walking around all morning and afternoon
without stopping to eat. Their breakfast back at the Hilton seemed
like five million years ago.
    “Yeah,” Miranda answered, “we can eat
somewhere.” She moved to push the strap of her bag back up on her
shoulder, but something tugged at it so hard she almost fell on her
butt. She felt the strap yank away from her fingers, and spun
toward Julia.
    “What are you doing ?” she growled, and
then realized it wasn’t Julia who had grabbed her bag, but someone
else entirely. When she looked up, she saw a guy sprinting down the
sidewalk. He was dressed in a suit. Short brown hair and white
sneakers. Who wore white sneakers with a suit? What she noticed
most of all, however, was her red leather hobo handbag dangling
from his hand. A string of curse words left her mouth, and without
thinking, she started running down the sidewalk after him.
    “Miranda!” Julia called out from behind her.
“Miranda! Stop!”
    Miranda spun around. “Just stay put. I’ll be right back.”
    Julia looked stunned as Miranda turned back
around and took off down the sidewalk. The guy wasn’t that far
ahead. She could totally catch him. What could possibly happen? He
wouldn’t hurt her on a public street surrounded by witnesses. She
would catch him and get her purse back. Simple.
    “Thief!” she screamed at the top of her
lungs, pointing at the guy. “Someone stop him! He stole my
purse!”
    People stared at her and then down the
sidewalk at the guy. Nobody made a move to stop