Party Games

by Whitney Lyles

  She felt like asking him why they hadn’t been thinking of a CD-release party sooner. Instead, she set up a time to discuss the party planning further, then said good-bye. A little surge of excitement rippled through her veins after she hung up. They’d never planned an event like this before, and it would be so much fun, not to mention probably packed with people her age and cute boys. The best part of all would be that it was just the type of event she’d been waiting for. It would be a long time before Sara had a career of her own, but her biggest dream was to become not only the best event planner, but also a promoter. It was one thing to throw a party, but it was another to do it with a purpose. She wanted to organize parties that led to the success of something or someone. She wanted to throw parties for companies that were launching products, or bands that were releasing CDs. When she helped her mother plan a party, Leah always started by asking the clients what their vision was for their night. It was so cool to watch how things came together in the end. It was like giving someone a makeover, and Sara loved to be one of the artists. Of course college was in her plans before embarking on her promoting/party-planning career, but this was her first real chance to get some experience.

  “Who was that?”

  “The manager of On the Verge. He wants me to throw their CD-release party.”

  “I’ve heard of them. Shane has actually seen them play.” Her eyes widened. “Wow! You’ve never done anything like that before, have you?”

  Sara shook her head. “And I think this is one event you can actually come to. We can hang out while I’m working. Of course, I’ll make sure there is a VIP list, and that you’re on it.” Allie had never been to any of the elaborate events that Sara’s mother planned, and now finally she could see what Sara’s job was really like.

  “Can I bring Shane?”

  “Definitely. I’ll put him on the list too.” Ever since Allie’s dream date with Shane, Allie could hardly speak a sentence without including his name. Shane was on the brain—that was for sure. However, Sara wasn’t annoyed or jealous. With her crazy schedule, she hadn’t been the most reliable friend.

  “So how are you going to do it?” Allie asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Get Nick Bones to show up.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea. He’s been to some of our other events. But I don’t think a simple invite will bring him to the party. No offense to the band, but it’s not like they’re the Killers. I mean, they’re totally unknown. There has to be some kind of incentive.”

  “You’re so lucky that your mom has such an amazing business. You have the coolest job ever. To think that I arrange things with sprinkles all day.” Allie worked in her parents’ doughnut shop every other weekend. Every time Sara stopped by the shop, she marveled over the fact that her best friend still managed to look like a rail. If Sara worked there, she would’ve packed on ten pounds the first week. Allie, however, said she was so sick of doughnuts she never wanted to consume anything with a hole in it again.

  “At least you don’t have to arrange doughnuts with Dakota London all day.”

  Allie made a face. “That’s very true.”

  Sara finally found a pair of peep-toe wedges. In spite of all the ugly shoes in Joel’s, her selection was very cute.

  Sara swung the bag back and forth as they headed to Allie’s car.

  Allie drove a beat-up minivan, known as the Zebra, that her parents had generously passed down to Allie on her sixteenth birthday. A fading, dim shade of gray, the Zebra had gotten its name as a result of the destruction Allie’s two younger brothers had inflicted on the windows during bouts of sheer boredom. On road trips, they’d kept themselves busy by peeling the tint from the windows. Sara had never known it was possible, but apparently certain kinds of material used to tint windows could actually be peeled in small strips from glass. Allie’s brothers had spent many strategic hours peeling away at tiny little scraps and shreds. The results had created a sepia-toned zebra pattern on the backseat windows. The boys had also kept busy by pulling the wire from the tubing on the edges of the leather seat cushions. Sharp, thin pieces of metal the size and shape of uncooked spaghetti poked from the left seat cushion. Allie had to warn everyone who sat on that side of the car to be careful of the wire. If someone was scratched by the wire, Sara and Allie said they’d been bitten by the Zebra. Each time Allie honked the horn, they said it was the call of the wild.

  The car was a major piece of crap, but it was still a car and without it they’d never be able to venture out. Sara loved the Zebra.

  As they pulled out of the mall parking lot, an idea came to Sara. She knew just how to get Nick Bones to the CD-release party.

  Five

  A lengthy to-do list in her mother’s handwriting occupied the front page of Sara’s binder. Most of the tasks were phone calls. These were easy because Sara and Leah sounded so much alike, which often made people believe that Sara was a lot older than she was. She’d practiced sounding professional and felt like she was taken more seriously over the phone. She’d spent a good portion of her time chatting with the aquatics center where Dakota’s party would begin. Because this venue had its own set of strict rules Sara had to double-check that Dakota’s attire was appropriate. She wanted to have a custom-made wet suit with special crystals and sequins embroidered all over the sleeves. What Sara had learned wasn’t going to make Dakota happy.

  In spite of the ten million things that needed to be done, her mother had decided to take off to Palm Springs for four days with Gene. She was surprised that her mother had taken off at such a busy time. Sara had avoided telling herself that it was because her mother was in love. It was perfectly all right for Allie to be in love—to ditch all her friends and responsibilities to hang out with Shane all the time. But her mother? Eww. And how was it that her mother had a love life and she didn’t? She’d much rather be hanging out with a boyfriend than calling all Dakota London’s vendors for her Island Castaway Party.

  She was spending the evenings at her father’s place. In the mornings he dropped her off at her mom’s so she could organize from their home office. His girlfriend, Tracy, would pick her up on her way from work in the evenings.

  She sat in her mother’s giant leather swivel chair making phone calls and messing around on her MySpace page when she was bored. Perhaps her biggest responsibility of the afternoon was her meeting with James and the lead singer of On the Verge. It was daunting not having her mother at the meeting. Aside from the Dakota meeting, she’d never handled a consultation on her own before. She’d sat in on enough initial consultations to know how to handle them, but the idea still seemed scary. Her mom had felt that she could handle this particular one on her own because of the age group, and she knew Sara loved music.

  She looked for On the Verge on MySpace and had just pulled up their page when the doorbell rang. Her stomach twisted into ten million knots. She suddenly felt nervous about being all alone. When Sara answered the door, a guy cute enough to pass out Dakota’s invitations stood on her porch.

  “This is Tristan.” A British accent came from somewhere. She’d hardly noticed James standing off to the left.

  “And you must be James,” she said.

  A little over six feet tall, Tristan had bright blue eyes and shaggy blond hair. The outline of chest muscles was apparent beneath his snug-fitting vintage Western T-shirt, and when he entered she couldn’t help but notice his cute butt. He was stunning, and she imagined he had girls fanning him and feeding him grapes on a regular basis. James looked midtwenties, had crooked teeth, and wore a bandana over his head.

  She watched as Tristan checked himself out in the hall mirror. Okay, yuck. He totally knew how cute he was, which was a turnoff.

  Tristan turned his attention to Sara, and his glance traced its way from her new wedges right up to her eyes. Then he smiled. “How’s it going?”

  “Great. You?” she asked, thinking that he was in breath range. Even though he seemed a little self-abs
orbed, she wished she’d been chewing gum. She didn’t want stale breath in front of someone this cute.

  “Much better now that I’m here.”

  She imagined that he was used to having most girls bat their eyelashes and gush over him, but Sara just wanted to get on with the meeting. While her experience with the male species was minimal, she wasn’t a dummy. Thanks to good ol’ dad, she had finely tuned instincts. He’d taught her how to tell the losers from the good ones in a few simple steps. Does he check himself out in the mirror? Does he talk nonstop about himself? Does he ask questions about you? Dad had also shared with her that a lot guys under the age of twenty-five were really looking for one thing. He hadn’t said this exactly, but what Sara had taken from his conversation was that most boys were about as deep as a gangsta rap song when it came to girls. It was very important to make sure she found a guy who was looking for more than a ho.

  They took seats next to the big mahogany desk in the office. Sara offered them each a bottled water. Tristan took his on ice.

  “So what do you guys think about a vintage car show, slash CD party?” she asked as she served their waters.

  While they took a moment to ponder her idea, she opened a window in the office.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” she said as she sat back down across from them. “Every time I’ve seen Nick Bones, he’s been with his prized vintage Cadillac. I’m no expert on cars, but I know he is. He even calls the car “Betty.” Last spring, we hosted a big opening for an ice cream shop called Smoothies.” They both nodded in recognition. “Anyway, you probably know it’s a fifties-diner-type of place. We called the party Cruisin’ Smooth and advertised for people to bring their vintage cars. Anyone who brought a car got a free milkshake, and I specifically remember that he showed up with Betty. Of course, I’ll call him and personally invite him myself, but I think we can definitely get him there if we make it a vintage car show.”

  They nodded.

  “I think it’s brilliant,” James said. “I’m actually feeling a bit sheepish because I didn’t think of the idea myself.”

  “Yeah, let’s go for it,” Tristan agreed. “What do we have to lose?”

  She smiled and started to relax. “Great. We can throw raffles for band merchandise. Like coolest convertible gets a free hat. And toughest muscle car takes home a band T-shirt. It’s a great opportunity for people to notice the band and draw in a big crowd.”

  They discussed the logistics of the party—venues, fliers, the number of people who would attend. Fortunately, the band had already taken care of many of these details. They’d already scheduled the show at a club in Mission Beach that hosted all-ages events. The band hoped a hundred people would attend.

  “A hundred?” Sara said. “I think we can get more than that there.”

  She walked them to the door.

  “So, what are you up to this evening?” Tristan looked at her as if she were the most important person on earth. “You should come by my studio and listen to us record a few new tracks for the album.”

  “Sorry, I have a debutante ball that I have to get ready for tonight. I mean, it’s not for me, and it’s not tonight, but I have to do some organizing.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was the first excuse that came to mind.

  He looked smitten. “Okay. I have no idea what that is, but it sounds important.”

  Sara took a break from work and spent a couple of hours poring over the Auto Trader for used Civics with Tracy. Sara felt really good about her meeting with James and Tristan, but it was kind of nice to focus on something non-work-related for a little while. Looking at the cars made her anxious yet excited. One, she had no idea if her parents were going to let her get a car. Even though she’d saved up, there had been a lot of talk about Sara driving one of her dad’s old vans from the fertilizer plant that he owned. The not knowing was about to drive her crazy. Two, what if she didn’t pass her test? Three, even though her birthday was a couple of weeks away, it seemed like it would never arrive. As far as she was concerned, it couldn’t get here too soon.

  “Here’s a good one.” Tracy pulled a wisp of her dark hair behind her ear before she continued to read. “Thirty thousand miles. Immaculate. CD player. AC.” She read on. “It has everything you want and it’s silver, too.”

  “Mark it with a star.” Sara looked over the rim of her classifieds.

  The good thing about Tracy was that she didn’t try to act parental to Sara. She was seven years younger than Sara’s dad, and she just usually hung out with Sara.

  The front door opened, and Sara heard her father’s footsteps heading down the hall in his small beachside house. He tossed his car keys on the coffee table, then squeezed Sara’s shoulders. “How do Alaskan king crab legs sound?” he asked.

  “Great.” Sara closed the Auto Trader, then stood up. “But Allie’s coming to pick me up in an hour. We’re going to hang out tonight.”

  “Oh.” He sounded surprised. She hoped he wasn’t annoyed, but the way things were going with her schedule, she knew if she didn’t hang out with Allie now, she may not see her again until her birthday dinner next month. Shane was camping at the beach with some of his friends. It was a guys’ night or something, so Sara had to snatch up the opportunity to hang out with her best friend while she had the chance. “Is that okay?” Sara asked.

  “Sure. You spending the night there?”

  “Yeah.” She followed her dad to the kitchen.

  She watched her father peel open a brown paper package, then remove long, thick orange crab legs. There were so many differences between Mom and Dad that Sara often didn’t know where to begin mentally categorizing them. One, Dad was always making some kind of food that required a pile of napkins and a bib to eat. His barbecue was probably his favorite possession, and anything that he prepared on the grill always turned out delicious. On the other hand, Mom didn’t even know how to start the barbecue. The last time her mother had attempted to grill something, it had resulted in an explosion. Sara would never forget as she watched two chicken breasts ignite like fireworks in their backyard. Mom had frantically raced for the garden hose while Sara had thrown her Sprite over the flames. Leah was the queen of gourmet takeout. She placed orders at exotic places like Vietnamese restaurants and French cafés. For more reasons than barbequing, their divorce hadn’t been a huge shock when it had become final two years ago.

  Tracy pulled out some tortilla chips and nacho sauce while Dad began to prepare the crab legs. “So, do you have a boyfriend?” Tracy asked.

  The question came up every time Sara was there, which was every other week, so it was kind of a lot.

  “She doesn’t need a boyfriend,” her father said before Sara had a chance to tell them nothing had changed since the last time she saw them. “She doesn’t need to date until she’s forty.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows. “Forty?”

  “Yes, forty. And then I get to pick him.”

  “Oh quit,” Tracy said. “Sara’s a smart girl. She’ll choose wisely. And you better get used to it, because I’m sure she’ll have a boyfriend any day now.” Tracy stirred the nacho cheese.

  Sara wanted to believe her. However, at the rate Sara was going, she thought her father would be very pleased. Forty didn’t sound so unrealistic.

  Several hours later she was sitting cross-legged atop Allie’s bed, making a necklace. They’d spent an hour calling some of the ads that Tracy and Sara had marked with stars, even though her father had told her to wait until after she passed her test to look for a car. But she couldn’t help it.

  Allie sat across from Sara, a giant box of beads and jewelry tools separating them. Two empty cartons of Ben and Jerry’s sat on Allie’s dresser, and the iPod speakers oozed Incubus. Sara had kept her cell phone nearby, expecting a check-in phone call from her mother. But it appeared as though her mother was having too much fun in Palm Springs to call. Allie and Sara were now referring to this new phase of life as “PG,” Post Gene. PG life for Sara i
nvolved a lot of figuring things out on her own and wondering if her mother was ever going to come back to her senses. They jokingly said they hoped Leah’s new love life was literally PG, because anything R was just too gross to imagine.

  Allie had taken up beading several months ago, to kill time at the doughnut shop when it was slow. She’d learned to make bracelets and necklaces on this stretchy material and was always insisting that Sara dip into her stash of beads and string something too.

  It was a nice way to kill the time, but Sara had never been a big jewelry wearer, and she often felt like the simple things she made were boring compared to Allie’s bold creations. Allie would put stones together that Sara would never consider pairing up. She was currently working on a bracelet with bright turquoise rocks and orange and black marblelike beads. Sara strung one blue cat’s eye after a white cat’s eye. Simple repetition was about as far as her beading skills went.

  “Look at yours,” Sara said. “It’s so cool. I would never think to put those colors together. I love it.”

  “Yours is cute too.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “I think we should make these pieces symbolic of something,” Allie suggested.

  Sara thought it was a good idea. “Like what?”

  “These can be our summer of love jewelry,” Allie suggested.

  Sara laughed. “Yeah, summer of love for you! Mine can be summer of loneliness.”

  “No, really, I think we should put one odd bead here on this side. Like one that doesn’t match.” She pointed to the end of Sara’s string. “Like, we’ll put a red bead there or something. Then when you find romance, we can put another red bead on the other end. So when you clasp them together, the two beads will join. It will be a symbol of love. No one will ever see it because the beads will be clasped behind your hair. Only you and I will know it’s there.”

  “And then you’ll put two red beads on your bracelet for Shane?”

  Allie nodded.