Glitter Girl

by Toni Runkle

  Ms. Donovan stood frozen in surprise, so Kat continued.

  “Oh yeah,” Kat continued. “She’s totally about students being well-rounded. In fact, she was just saying how she’s sure you’ll be putting together a winning team this year and that we should all be at the games to cheer you on.”

  “Well, that’s mighty nice of you, Ms. Donovan.” He gave Ms. Donovan a smile that would light up a scoreboard. “I hope to see you at the games too, and I hope my boys don’t disappoint this year.”

  “Rachel. Call me Rachel.” Ms. Donovan smiled, momentarily forgetting entirely about the shattered pubescent egos strewn around the hallways of Willkie at that very moment.

  While Donovan and Scofield started to play another round of Middle-Aged Mystery Date, Kat turned to Jules and said with a self-satisfied grin, “Spider-Man strikes again!”

  Her smile quickly faded when she spotted Darcy and Zoe emerging from the girls’ locker room with a very excited Kelsey in tow. And Kat, without a single ticket left to give, decided there was only one way to handle it.

  “Gotta go!” said Kat as she quickly flung her backpack over her shoulder.

  “Hey, Kat! Wanna go for burgers sometime?” Kyle called after her.

  “Really? I would love to! Call me!” she said with a delighted smile before quickly ducking out the nearest exit, much to Zoe, Darcy, and Kelsey’s confusion.

  Jules looked amazed and horrified at what she had just witnessed. She didn’t know what was worse. Her brother asking Kat for a date. Ew. Or Ms. Donovan and Coach Scofield. Seriously?

  Then again, she, Jules, displayed some fairly pathetic behavior herself when Kat had finally given her the invitation. She hated herself for how much she wanted to be invited. And how desperate she had felt the whole day, agonizing over it like all those silly girls at school. She told herself she only wanted to be invited because she was Kat’s best friend, and best friends never leave each other out of anything.

  But as she turned over the pink invitation in her hand and the rhinestones glimmered in the lights of the gym, she had to admit that it did feel good, being one of the chosen ones for a change. She wanted to believe it so badly she didn’t even let herself think about the fact that Kat, who said she had come to the gym to give her the ticket, had no idea Jules was even going to be there.

  Chapter 8

  For Now Sits Expectation in the Air

  At 9 a.m. Saturday morning, a brown delivery truck pulled up to Kat’s house on Jasmine Court. Kat dashed to the window and watched as the driver struggled to pull the huge box off the truck and onto a dolly. The wheels of the dolly went click, click, click over the sidewalk and seemed to be straining from the weight of the box. The thing was as big as one of those mini European cars that get such good gas mileage that Jules was always rambling on about. Kat’s mother signed for the box and tipped the driver for wrestling that behemoth into the living room. Kat looked from her mom to the box and took a deep breath. Whew!

  Across the cul-de-sac, Jules was still in bed. She had stayed up the night before trying to concentrate on the sonnets for the Shakespeare Club. She was supposed to recite one at the meeting next week and they had to pick another one for the Renaissance Faire, but she couldn’t decide which one.

  She looked from her thick book of poems on the floor to the pink invitation on her desk. The more she thought about the party, the more nervous she became. Which was silly. She’d slept over at Kat’s a million times. But still. Darcy? And Zoe? Really? And a bunch of girls who she didn’t even know, and even if she did know them, they seemed mean and silly and superficial and a whole bunch of other not-too-flattering adjectives that she’d just as soon keep to herself, thank you very much. The grinding of the gears of the delivery truck had caught her attention, so when she pulled back her blinds and peeked out the window, she caught a glimpse of the box as it was being wheeled into the Connors’ house. Man, it was so big!

  At that exact moment, five blocks away, Nickelodeon’s Saturday lineup blared from the TV in Darcy’s room. Zoe thought she was a baby for still watching that channel when there were much cooler, more “grown-up” shows on other networks, shows where beautiful teenagers hooked up with other beautiful teenagers while their parents vacationed in the Hamptons, wherever that was. Darcy didn’t care. She liked Nickelodeon.

  Let Zoe say whatever she wanted. Zoe didn’t know everything. But she did know Kat Connors, and that made it worth tolerating all of Zoe’s stuck-up opinions and criticisms. Because if there was one thing Darcy liked more than Nickelodeon, it was being popular. And she absolutely, positively couldn’t wait for Kat’s super-cool slumber party that evening. In fact, thinking of it distracted Darcy from her TV show and she totally missed seeing her favorite actress get slimed. Bummer!

  Just as green slime dripped down the actress’s face, the brown delivery truck sped past Darcy’s house, having dropped off its precious cargo at the Connors residence. The truck turned round the corner and moved two blocks up Waveland Way, past a house where Zoe sat motionless on a piano bench and watched as a stopwatch in her hand ticked off seconds. Only twenty-seven minutes to go. She usually practiced for about three minutes so that the sound of music would be in the air in the house, but she knew her parents demanded she put in a half an hour every day, so she usually just sat on the bench for that time and daydreamed.

  She had been quite a little player when she was ten years old, but she hadn’t been progressing much lately. Who cares, she thought. Stars don’t play the piano anyway. Little shy kids like Teresa Watanabe from next door play piano, while girls like Zoe were in the spotlight. Zoe’s mom walked by and sighed. Two hundred dollars a month for lessons, and for what? For her daughter to sit on a piano bench and daydream about some silly slumber party.

  Outside the house, a group of teenagers jogged by. It was the ninth-grade Willkie athletes on their Saturday workout. Driving along and keeping pace in his blue Corolla was Coach Scofield. Kyle led the group of runners. He usually did. He was the best-conditioned athlete of the bunch, or so Coach Scofield said after the last practice. They were going to announce the fall tournament team soon, and Kyle couldn’t let up if he was going to make it.

  He looked back to see if Scofield was noticing him and saw Jaden Atkins, the sweet-shooting point guard, sucking wind a half block behind him. Hey, Jaden, maybe you oughta build some low-cost housing for the poor sometime. It does wonders for your endurance! As Kyle kicked into another gear and started his sprint back to the school, his thoughts turned to Kat, which had been happening a lot lately.

  They turned on Waveland and ran past Dance Revolution, down from the Wendy’s in the strip mall, where a pack of young mothers stood outside and sipped lattes while their three-year-olds pretended they were ballerinas behind the huge picture windows of the studio. In the next room, Ms. Donovan sat behind the receptionist’s desk where she worked every Saturday for a little extra money. She absentmindedly twirled a pencil in her fingers and stared past the mothers outside.

  She could see the group of teenage boys wearing blue and gold and running in the distance. Wolves colors. She knew they were Willkie boys, probably Coach Scofield’s. She quickly perked up when she spotted Scofield hanging out the window of his pace car. She watched as he suddenly put on the brakes and stared past the boys at something. She followed his gaze and saw he was gawking at an attractive young woman with blond highlights coming out of the beauty salon across the way. As he drove off, Ms. Donovan glanced over at the beauty salon. Maybe the Connors girl was right—maybe some highlights and contacts weren’t such a bad idea, after all.

  Down from Dance Revolution, in the drive-thru of the Wendy’s, Kelsey Miller was still pouting in the back of her mom’s minivan. How could Zoe and Darcy have said that she was invited when she wasn’t? What kind of cruel trick was that, anyway? Was that little airhead Kat Connors behind it all? Let her have her little slumber party.
Who wants to go to such a stupid thing? Besides, supposedly her parents were getting a divorce. Kelsey took her Wendy’s apple pecan salad from her mom in the front seat. She didn’t feel like eating it.

  The minivan headed down the street past the Marriott Inn, where at that exact moment in Room 211, Chelsea Ambrose was putting on an earring and talking into her Bluetooth headset at the same time. “Yeah, Amy,” she said, “I just confirmed the shipment. Where are we with that girl in Houston? Who do we have there? Melanie? Have her tell the mom that we could go another way. I don’t care about that. Not every girl has what it takes to be a Glitter Girl. Just take care of it.”

  Chelsea hung up. She looked at herself critically in the mirror. She removed a silk scarf from around her neck and tossed it on the bed. The scarf caught the air like a parachute and floated down, landing softly on top of an advance copy of next month’s Seventeen magazine. The smiling face of teen singing sensation Jessica Aguirre and her perfect teeth were on the cover. In the corner of the magazine cover was Chelsea’s biggest success yet. A splashy headline read, “Are YOU Glitter Girl material? Take our super quiz inside!” Chelsea’s hard work was finally starting to pay off. The thirty-fifth floor had never seemed closer.

  Next to the hotel was the massive White Oak Mall. At that very moment on the third level, across from the food court at Forever 21, Aly Washington and Misty Wilkins explained to their mothers again why they simply couldn’t go to this sleepover in old pajamas. It wasn’t going to happen. Misty’s mom clicked a few numbers into a little calculator in her pocketbook, and looked at the pink cami and plaid short shorts number Misty was showing off for Aly and absolutely loved. Mrs. Wilkins shrugged in the salesgirl’s general direction and handed her a credit card. The gas bill could wait until payday, she supposed.

  In the parking lot across the street, Kat pushed a shopping cart toward the gourmet grocery store at the corner of Benning Parkway and Memorial Drive. Kat’s mom insisted on picking up a few things for the party, even though Chelsea said her company would be footing the bill and she would be coming by with what she called some “special treats” for everyone later that evening. Chelsea was so cool. She’d been so nice to Kat’s mom too, even when her mom was freaking out about whether or not the box would arrive on time and the party would come off without a hitch.

  Sometimes, it almost seemed like her mom wanted this more than she did. But then again, Kat did think it was pretty cool. All the posts on her blog had been so positive in the last week, and the traffic was way up. Everyone online was just dying to know what kind of treasures would be in the Glitter Girl box once it was opened. Kat had promised her readers she’d “live blog” the party as much as she could, and her reviews would all be online by the next Monday. Imagine. So many girls looking to her, the same way that maybe she looked to Chelsea. It was kinda cool.

  The automatic doors of the supermarket opened, and Kat followed her mom toward the fancy pastry counter.

  The party would start in eight hours.

  Chapter 9

  Canst Thou Bring Me to the Party?

  A pair of white denim capris. Sandals. And a printed bib tank top she’d bought with the gift certificate from the Gap that her grandma had given her on her last birthday.

  Jules looked at herself in the mirror of her bedroom and made a face as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. It wasn’t much, this outfit, but then again there wasn’t much in her closet in the first place. She had her standard rotation of T-shirts promoting various causes, and two or three pairs of boot-cut jeans she wore to school most days. Before tonight, she’d spent about twelve seconds on the daily chore of choosing what to wear, and that was on a good day. But tonight, with “them” invited to the party as well, she felt like she had to make at least an effort to look like someone with a sense of style.

  Still not all that thrilled with what she had on, Jules looked out her window to the Connors’s house. How many girls were there already? She had seen at least twelve girls arrive so far, plus Chelsea, but she couldn’t be sure. Zoe had come in looking like she thought she was all that, looking way more than thirteen years old; God knows what kind of stunt she had to pull to get her parents to buy that outfit.

  Oh forget it, Jules thought, let’s just get this over with. She grabbed her backpack and sleeping bag and started down the stairs.

  “Who died?” came a voice from the living room. Oh geez. Kyle. Great.

  “What are you talking about, jock boy?” said Jules reflexively, still not exactly sure where he was.

  “Those clothes,” said Kyle’s disembodied voice. “Either you’re heading for a funeral, or your buddy Al Gore is in town.”

  By this time, Jules had made it to the bottom of the stairs and encountered her brother sprawled out flat on his back on the living-room floor. He held a basketball over his head and flicked it high into the air with his right hand, and then did the same with his left, critically examining the spin on the ball and the position of his hand after each shot. Again and again the ball flew high in the air, almost hitting the ceiling fan, and then it came down, submitting to the laws of gravity and landing back in Kyle’s oversized teenage hands.

  “What in the name of LeBron James are you doing?” she said, mentioning the only basketball player that she’d ever heard of.

  “The ball is supposed to land on my hand exactly in the same spot I shot it from,” Kyle said seriously, letting the ball fly again. “That tells me my form is on track. So I answered your question, you answer mine. What’s the deal with the getup? Hot date in Nerdland?”

  “Ha, ha. No, for your information, brainless, tonight is that Glitter Girl sleepover thing at Kat’s house. You remember, I was talking to Mom about it last night at dinner.”

  Kyle paused a moment with the ball in his hands when he heard Kat’s name. Then he sent it back into the air. “Oh that. To be honest, I don’t pay a whole lot of attention most of the time when you’re talking.”

  “Do I use words that are too big for your little pea brain, jockoid?” Jules said, knocking the ball out of her brother’s hand as she headed for the door.

  Slam!

  “Say hi to Kat!” he yelled after her, even though she was halfway down the driveway. Kyle retrieved the ball, which had ended up under the coffee table, and threw it into the air once again.

  “Swish!” he whispered to himself.

  • • •

  The early October sky was starting to darken as Jules made her way across the cul-de-sac. She stopped for a moment to pull her little neighbor Justina Halperin’s tricycle out of the street. Since the Halperins moved in last year, Justina was always leaving her stuff everywhere, but Jules and Kat had been keeping an eye on her. The last thing they needed in the cul-de-sac was some disagreement when one of the neighbors ran over that trike backing out of his garage. Also, moving it bought Jules a few moments, allowing her to delay the inevitable.

  Having safely deposited the tricycle and without further distractions or excuses, Jules continued down the sidewalk and opened the gate that led to the Connors’s front door. She rang the bell and took a deep breath.

  Instead of seeing Kat’s smiling face, or even that of her mom answering the door, she looked up to see none other than Chelsea Ambrose.

  “Oh,” said Chelsea, looking back inside the house and closing the door behind her. “Maybe you didn’t know. Kat’s a little busy tonight. She’s hosting an event that’s sort of ‘invite only.’ Sorry.” She began to close the door.

  Jules felt a primordial shiver going up her spine. Just like she’d heard about in biology class. Classic fight-or-flight reaction.

  “Uh, yeah,” she said, choosing the former and stopping the door before Chelsea could close it. “That’s kind of what I’m here for.”

  She produced the glittery pink invitation from her backpack, held it out defiantly for Chelsea to see, and marched past her
into the house.

  She smiled slyly as she entered the foyer. Round one to Jules, she thought to herself.

  Jules walked into Kat’s house and looked around. Trudy, no doubt under the watchful eye of Chelsea, had simply transformed the place. In one corner of the living room was one of those cool karaoke machines that had its own screen so you could film a video of yourself singing and then play it back right away.

  A few of the girls were playing Blind Man’s Karaoke, a game Kat and Jules had invented a couple of sleepovers ago. They put the CD on “random play” and blindfolded one girl. She had to recognize the song and sing along without making a mistake. Once she blew a line, her time was up and the next girl could try. At the moment, Daphne Momsette was bellowing out something that sounded vaguely like Jessica Aguirre’s latest hit, “What’s It Gonna Be, Boy?” and had made it through the first verse and half the chorus before she flubbed up.

  “Twenty-nine seconds!” yelled out Cee Cee Lewis, the official timer. “Good, but not good enough! Who’s next?”

  Next to the karaoke corner was a table full of snacks, where Darcy and Zoe were busy dipping carrot sticks into ranch dressing.

  “These are soo good. I could eat them all right now!” exclaimed Zoe, closing her eyes and letting the flavor of the ranch dressing melt in her mouth before she swallowed.

  “Yeah, the only thing missing is the ketchup!” Darcy said, as if everybody ate their carrot sticks smothered in ketchup.

  By this time, Chelsea had caught up with Jules again and grabbed her by the shoulder. A little too firmly for Jules’s taste, it might be added.

  “Come on, sweetie,” said Chelsea in perhaps the unsweetest way possible. “Let’s go find Kat.”

  Chelsea led Jules out through the sliding door to the backyard, where a few of the girls sat on deck chairs around Kat’s swimming pool and drank some kind of frozen concoction Kat’s mom had created out of Hawaiian Punch and 7UP. Mrs. Connors served the drinks in tall glasses with the obligatory umbrellas sticking out of them. She made the rounds while the girls sat by the pool and tried to imagine how starlets in Hollywood would act if they were sitting around a pool.