Party Games

by Whitney Lyles

  Sara looked at the pile of tile samples, then at her mother. “Do you like this?” Leah pointed to a small object that looked like a piece of polished rock. “Or do you like this?” Then she laid a bunch of tiny little tile pieces held together on a floppy grid.

  Sara shrugged. “I guess that one.” She pointed to the tiny pieces.

  Her mom smiled. “We’re leaning more toward that.”

  Sara noticed a twinkle in her mother’s eye as she held the sample up next to their kitchen sink. How could she tell her mom she was backing out of Dakota’s party now? She’d already begun the kitchen remodel, and the commission from the London event had been factored into the cost. What if Sara quit and it backfired? What if Dakota got mad and hired someone else? All of mom’s kitchen dreams would go right down the garbage disposal.

  Gene rubbed Sara’s shoulders. “You look stressed.” He squeezed her back with his hands. “You know what we all need?”

  Sara and Leah waited.

  “Facials!” he exclaimed.

  Leah nodded. “I so agree!” She turned to Sara. “What’s up?”

  For a moment she debated spilling everything and announcing her resignation right then and there. “Nothing.”

  “How’s the London event going?”

  “Fine,” she lied.

  “Good. I am so glad you’re taking on more responsibility with clients. You’re doing such an amazing job. I can’t tell you how much it’s helped.”

  Gene nodded. “That was some party last night. You rocked it, chief.”

  Leah held up the tile sample and observed it under the light. “I made reservations for Meiki’s on Thursday,” she said.

  “Someone has a birthday coming up!” Gene sang the words.

  Mom set down the tile sample. “Are you nervous for your test?”

  Sara shook her head. The truth was, she’d hardly thought about it. She had a million other things to worry about. She felt like she should be overjoyed that her sixteenth birthday was right around the corner, but the only thing she felt was anxiety.

  “You can take the test in my car if you’d like,” Gene said. “It’s a lot smaller than the SUV. That Miata can three-point-turn on a diamond.”

  “That’s okay. But thanks.” She headed back to her room. She couldn’t back out of Dakota’s party now. For better or worse, she was stuck.

  Eleven

  “There is no way that guy is going to go for her,” Allie said. “Trust me on this one.”

  They were in the Zebra, heading to Meiki’s for Sara’s birthday dinner, and Sara was behind the wheel. It had been a monumental day for many reasons. Not only was she officially sixteen, but they’d just left the DMV, where Sara had passed her driver’s test! Allie had met Sara and Leah at the DMV with a dozen pink roses for Sara.

  The possession of her driver’s license was like holding a ticket for a temporary trip to cloud nine. Furthermore, report cards came, and she had mostly A’s, with only two B’s, in math and PE. She couldn’t help it if she forgot to bring clean gym clothes to school a few times. Sports had never really been her strong suit. She’d looked at her report card at least twenty times and felt this only helped her case to get a Civic. How could her parents say no with such good grades?

  However, Sara still felt torn between sheer bliss and aching nervousness. Even getting her driver’s license couldn’t get rid of her Ian-and-Dakota anxiety.

  “I don’t know.” Sara shook her head. “Dakota said they had a real connection. And every other guy on the planet likes her, so why wouldn’t Ian?” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. If Ian liked me, don’t you think he would’ve done something about it by now? It’s obvious that he just wants to be friends. Who am I to stand in the way of Dakota’s dating him? For all I know, they could be soul mates.”

  Allie shook her head. “Dakota is not his soul mate,” she said firmly. “I mean, please. Listen to what you’re saying. Maybe he’s just waiting for the right opportunity to make a move with you. I mean, maybe he just hasn’t had a chance.”

  “I’ve seen him, like, three times in the past two months. He’s had plenty of opportunities.”

  Allie paused. “It’s not like you’re the most accessible person.”

  Sara glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, okay…for example…that night he was waiting to talk to you and Dakota called. And then at the CD-release party, Shane said that if he had to describe you, he would say you’re a big black blur. Because your black outfit was just one big blur as you raced all over the party. It’s not like Ian’s going to ask you out when you’ve got someone else’s voice coming in the other ear on your headset every two seconds.”

  Sara thought for a moment. Allie had a point. She’d been too busy to realize how busy she was. Suddenly, she felt filled with dread. “I’ve totally ruined it. It’s my fault all this has happened. If I had just taken one second to think about something else other than parties, I wouldn’t be in this situation. And now he’s going to fall in love with Dakota. I just hate to see him go for someone like her.”

  Allie laughed. “Stop. That’s not going to happen, and if he does fall in love with her, which he won’t, then I’d think he was missing part of his brain.”

  “Did I tell you I went on eBay to look up that guitar?”

  Allie shook her head.

  “Yeah, and there she was. The highest bidder. Her eBay name is Royal London.”

  “It should be Royal Pain in the Ass.”

  Sara laughed. “Ha! No kidding. And guess how much the guitar was. You’ll never guess.”

  “Five hundred dollars.”

  Sara laughed. “Try twenty thousand!”

  “What!” Allie yelled. “How much money does that girl have? I can’t even wrap my mind around that amount of money! That’s a whole semester at a private college! And she bought a guitar just so she can get some guy to come to her house?”

  “I’m telling you, she’s nuts. But she doesn’t act that way in front of guys. It’s like she knows she’s nuts, and she turns on a sanity switch when she wants to impress someone.”

  Allie thought for a moment. “Okay, here’s what you do. You call Ian and just be straight with him. Just tell him she’s wacky and you’re working for her, so you have to go along with it. He doesn’t have to commit to anything, but you just had to throw it out there, so you can tell Dakota you’re doing your job. If he agrees to meet up with her, which he’d have to be just as crazy to do, then you know the guy’s nuts too. And they can have each other. But he never will.”

  “What if it gets back to Dakota that I did that? My mother will kill me. I mean, I’ll be dead. You’ll be writing my obituary. She’s already put down as much as that guitar was for her new kitchen.”

  “Well, then just go along with it. I mean, all she asked you to do was invite him to some party at her house, so just do it. Keep in mind, he’ll never go for her. Let her find that out for herself.”

  Sara sank into her seat. She wasn’t so sure. Almost everyone fell for Dakota.

  As they pulled into Meiki’s, the tune of “Bossy” came from inside Sara’s bag. It was a London. She wasn’t sure which one, because the parents had been calling her too. She’d programmed all their numbers to the song.

  She waited to park before she picked up the phone. “Hi, Sara. It’s Sylvie London.”

  “Oh, hi, Mrs. London. What can I do for you?”

  “I tried to get ahold of your mother, but she seems to be a very busy woman.”

  Tell me about it, Sara felt like saying.

  “Anyway, I’m calling because I wanted to continue our conversation about what we discussed at my daughter’s debutante ball. Dakota’s getting a pedicure, so I thought I better call you while I have the chance.”

  “Certainly.”

  She sighed. “Report cards came yesterday, and her grades were great! Honor roll! She’s never made honor roll.”

  Sara’s jaw dropped. “Really?”
It took all her power not to sound shocked.

  “Yes, we’re so proud. She’s earned every inch of that Mercedes.”

  Sara knew Dakota was up to something, but she didn’t know what. Somehow, she’d forged a report card. Sara knew for a fact that she’d almost failed speech. There was no way she’d made honor roll.

  “So, we’ve decided to get her the Mercedes SL. You know, the sporty convertible?”

  “Okay.”

  Sara had no idea. She’d been browsing the used car section of the classifieds for a sensible four-door sedan and thinking of ways to fumigate the fertilizer van just in case. So no, she wasn’t at all familiar with Mercedes convertibles.

  Sylvie London continued. “Anyway, I still don’t want her to have any idea that she’s getting a car.” An evil chuckle came from Sylvie’s end. “We’re really going to pull one over on her. So I was hoping you could think of the perfect time to present her with the car. I figured you know the party schedule better than anyone.”

  “Sure, that won’t be a problem at all. We’ll make it the perfect surprise.”

  “Great!”

  They chatted for a couple more minutes about party details before saying good-bye. She turned to Allie. “She’s getting the Mercedes convertible she wanted. I don’t know how she did it, but somehow she must’ve forged her report card.”

  “You mean they don’t want the Zebra?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  “Whatever, she can have her car and her twenty-thousand-dollar guitar, but she’ll never have any depth or intelligence. You can’t pay for a good personality.”

  “It’s so true. And she’ll just end up with people who are just like her in the long run.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I got the invitation to the party,” Allie said. “Hand delivered.”

  “You’re kidding. Do you even know her that well?”

  Allie shook her head. “No more than you did before the summer.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “Hell no!” Allie looked mortified. “Do you really think I would have any interest?”

  “I can’t believe she even invited you.”

  “I think she invited the entire school. Everyone from school who comes into the doughnut shop talks about what they’re going to wear to her party.”

  It stung to hear this, and Sara sort of wished the whole school would boycott Dakota’s party.

  “The invitation came with this little wrist lei that you have to wear to get into the party.”

  “I know,” Sara said glumly.

  “Shane used his to tie a trash bag the other night,” Allie added as consolation.

  “He did?” This lifted Sara’s spirits a little. At least she had a couple of comrades. Sara saw her father standing outside the restaurant. “There they are.” She pointed. Gene was following him into the restaurant. Next to Gene was Tracy. Sara’s mother looked like she was laughing at something Tracey had said. If she didn’t know them, she’d think they were two couples having dinner together. No one would ever know divorce came into the equation.

  But for Sara the whole situation felt a little strange. In the past, Sara had often wondered what Allie thought of her family. Sara’s divorced workaholic parents and their quirky significant others were nothing like Allie’s normal family. Her dad called family meetings. Her parents still held hands, and her mom was always waiting at home for the kids with after-school snacks—unlike Sara’s mom, who was usually in her stilettos and ranting into a headset when Sara came home from school.

  Allie had to wait for Sara to come let her out of the car. For no apparent reason, the passenger-side door no longer opened from the inside.

  “I feel like we’re on a date,” Sara said as she opened Allie’s door. “Does this mean I have to pay for your dinner?”

  Allie giggled, then stopped when she noticed Sara’s neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace.”

  Sara ran her fingers over the bare spot on her chest. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know. It’s just a reminder of my nonexistent, totally screwed-up love life.”

  Allie sighed. “With an attitude like that, how will anything ever change? Haven’t you ever heard of positive thinking?”

  “I can’t think up a boyfriend, Allie.” Allie climbed from the car.

  Luckily, there wasn’t much chance to talk about the necklace. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. Sara just felt like every time she glanced at the necklace, it reminded her of the missing bead and how when she’d made the necklace, she’d had Ian in mind. Now, Ian was as good as unavailable. She just didn’t feel like wearing it anymore.

  Her parents were waiting by the hostess stand when Sara and Allie arrived. “Happy birthday!” Tracy threw her arms around Sara. “And congratulations! One hundred percent! I had to take mine twice in high school.”

  Gene gave Sara a pat on the back. “We’ll never see you again, my dear. So we have to enjoy this dinner.”

  They ate at a table instead of at the sushi bar. Even though they had a large group and a table was ideal, Sara had been sort of hoping they would eat at the bar. That way, everyone could talk only to the person directly next to them. Conversation would be limited. Eating at the bar would save them from all kinds of awkward moments that could be created as a result of table dining. Gene and her father sitting down at the same table was cause for anxiety. They had about as much in common as kittens and alligators.

  Her father ripped open an edamame and set the pod on his napkin before tossing the soy beans into his mouth like peanuts. Sara had always known her father ate fast, but for some reason, his chewing seemed extra loud and rapid now. She wondered if anybody else noticed it too. “So, Gene, what do you think about the Chargers’ draft picks this year?”

  Gene delicately placed an empty edamame pod on a plate next to him. He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t follow football.” He shrugged.

  Sara almost felt sorry for her dad. He was trying. The Chargers were like his religion. Discussing them with anyone was sacred. Couldn’t Gene just lie and act like he thought the draft picks were exciting?

  “So, I once heard that you can tell what kind of a person you are by how you eat sushi,” Sara’s dad said.

  Tracy chimed in. “Yeah, some people take the warm towel and delicately wipe their hands and face. Then they fold it back up and place it next to their plate. They eat everything with chopsticks. Those people are organized and plan ahead. Others take the towel, quickly wipe down their hands, then set it in a small pile somewhere near their plate. They might eat their sushi with their hands. They’re more laid-back, easygoing, messy.”

  Everyone listened as her dad continued to explain. “Tracy and I ate at a sushi restaurant in Hawaii when we were there last summer, and it had this whole list of all these little quirks and characteristics for people by how they eat their sushi.”

  Gene threw back his head and laughed. “How clever! That’s hilarious. So the type of person who takes his towel, smears his dirty hands all over it, then throws it on his plate probably lives in squalor?”

  “Exactly,” Tracy and her father answered.

  “Imagine the kind of person who doesn’t use his towel,” Sara’s mother said. “What kind of person would that be?”

  “An animal,” Tracy answered. Everyone laughed.

  After that, things were a little more relaxed. Gene had lots of recommendations for sushi, which provided for all kinds of yummy things to taste. Everyone at the table analyzed one another’s sushi-eating habits. For the most part, they were all clean, organized, and the type who planned ahead. But maybe that was just because they knew they were under sushi scrutiny.

  Only a couple of pieces of a spicy crab roll remained in the end. Allie and Sara swooped in and managed to stuff the remaining pieces somewhere inside their full stomachs.

  The busboy had just cleared the plates, when the Japanese staff at the restaurant came bursting from the kitchen singing a Japanese version of “Happy Bir
thday.” Sara felt her cheeks growing warm when she realized they were making a beeline straight for her. The ringleader held a bowl of green-tea ice cream with a candle sticking out of the top.

  Sara’s parents and their significant others sang in English, and Allie and Sara giggled sheepishly along.

  “You didn’t think we were leaving the restaurant without singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ did you?” her mother asked.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.” Sara took a spoonful of the creamy dessert, then passed it around the table. “Here. Everyone have some.”

  While they passed around the ice cream, Gene pulled a box from underneath his seat. It was wrapped in pink paper, with a big brown-and-pink polka-dot bow. She opened it up and found a leather planner. It was much more chic and sophisticated than the binder she’d been toting around everywhere. “Thank you,” she said. “I love it, and I need it.”

  “That binder you’ve been carrying around everywhere makes you look like you’re showing carpet samples or something. You needed something new, chief.”

  Allie gave her a bracelet she’d made using funky black and red cat’s-eye beads. Tracy gave her a gift certificate to the best clothing boutique at the mall.

  They were waiting for the check when her father slid a key across the table. She felt everyone staring at her.

  “It’s to the minivan,” he said.

  “Your dad and I talked”—her mother chimed in—“and we both felt it would be best if you put your money toward college when there is a perfectly reliable van you can drive. And once you go to college, you won’t need a car anyway. Everything you’ll need will be on campus. If you get good grades your freshman year of college, we’ll help you buy a car.”

  She was a tiny bit disappointed. It was her own money that she’d saved, but their idea of driving the van made perfect sense. An education was far more important than a car. At least Allie and she would be matching. The minivan for the fertilizer plant wasn’t quite as dilapidated as the Zebra, but it wasn’t exactly the Honda Civic she’d had her eye on. She’d tried to envision putting some kind of wild patterned seat covers on the front seats and maybe a couple of bumper stickers of her favorite bands on the back windows.