by Holly Black
“Whatever,” Jeremy said with a shrug as he swung himself up onto the bus behind Alecia. “Spank thinks he can do whatever he wants, without consequence. Because he can, and as you know perfectly well, he has. His dad is the sheriff. Believe me, no good will come of encouraging Alecia’s crush on him.”
Liz rolled her eyes as she followed Jeremy to a seat toward the back of the bus.
“Guess where I’m going tonight?” Jeremy said as he sat down.
“Let me guess,” Liz said. “Kate Higgins’s house, for her birthday blowout.”
“No. Your house. Your mom’s having a surprise party for you.”
Alecia, seated in a row ahead of theirs, squealed, “Jeremy! You weren’t supposed to tell! Now you’ve ruined the surprise.”
Liz blanched. “Tell me you’re shitting me.”
“Liz!” Alecia looked scandalized.
“High School Musical theme,” Jeremy went on. “Your mom got matching hats and plates and everything half off from Party Kaboose. You know Debbie Freelander always knows what the cool kids are into.”
“Seriously,” Liz said. “This has been the worst day of my life. I think I’m going to slit my wrists.”
“Liz!” Alecia cried. “Don’t even say such a thing! You know you can’t get into heaven if you kill yourself. And I want to be your best friend in heaven, too, the same as I am here on earth.”
Liz looked at Alecia and wondered if she could somehow get a new best friend for her birthday, in addition to a whole new life.
“Seriously,” she said to Alecia and Jeremy. “Don’t come.”
“Oh,” Jeremy said, “I’m coming. I want to see your expression as you cut into your Troy ’n’ Gabriella cake.”
“Don’t,” Liz said as the bus engine roared to life. “Please. Not Troy ’n’ Gabriella. You’re making that part up.”
“I’m going to come,” Alecia assured her. “But if it’s all right with you, I’m going to leave a little early, to go to Kate Higgins’s party. My mom said she’d pick me up from your party to take me to Kate’s. Because I’ve never been to a party with boys before. No offense, Jeremy. I mean, I don’t really think of you as a boy.”
“None taken,” Jeremy said amiably.
Liz, however, frowned. It wasn’t, she knew, that Alecia didn’t think of Jeremy as a boy. It was just that she and Alecia had spent so much time over the years in Jeremy’s company, either at his house or one of theirs, that it wasn’t easy to think of him as someone in whom one might have a romantic interest, even though he was their age.
Lately, though, Jeremy had started to look quite … There was no other word for it: manly. He’d taken up tae kwon do, and breaking large piles of wood with his hands and feet had caused some undeniable muscle definition.
How could Alecia have failed to notice? Liz had been going out with someone else for almost a year, and even she hadn’t been able to help noticing.
“So,” he said when they got off the bus at their stop. “See you at your surprise party later?”
“Jeremy!” Alecia yelled from the bus window, where she was eavesdropping on their conversation. Her stop wasn’t for another few miles. “You’re ruining it!”
“See you then,” Liz said unenthusiastically, and turned to start down the long gravel driveway to her house.
Though she looked for unfamiliar tire tracks, a clue that her family might be hiding a metallic blue Volkswagen convertible Beetle in the barn, all Liz found when she got home was her mother busily preparing for the surprise party that Liz knew no one but her friends Alecia and Jeremy would be attending (and Alecia was leaving early for Kate Higgins’s party).
Her mother bustled around the kitchen with a happy air, forbidding Liz from having an after-school snack (“You’ll spoil your appetite for dinner!”), while Mr. Freelander, done suspiciously early with work around the farm for the day, sat in the living room pretending to be engrossed in a spy novel, giving Liz the barest of glances as she breezed by on her way to her room. She didn’t remark on the High School Musical party blower in the front pocket of his shirt.
Upstairs Liz discovered her younger brother, Ted, hanging around the open door to her room.
“You’re really going to like your birthday surprise,” he said.
“Is it a car?” Liz asked, knowing it wasn’t.
“No,” Ted said. “It’s better.”
“There’s nothing better than a car,” Liz said.
With a car of her own, she’d no longer have to get up at five forty-five in the morning in order to catch the bus at six thirty, often in the pitch black of predawn, in order to make it to school by eight.
With a car of her own, she could go into town whenever she wanted and not be dependent on her parents for rides.
With a car of her own, she could finally get the hell out of Venice.
It wouldn’t have to be a nice car. It could be any old car. Jeremy had been working on the engine of his grandfather’s old Cutlass Supreme, trying to get it running again, just so he could have something of his own to get around in, something other than his mother’s minivan or his father’s pickup (which both his parents were notoriously stingy about loaning).
It was horrible, living as far out of town as they did and not having cars of their own.
“It’s way better than a car,” Ted assured her.
Liz looked at him tiredly as she pulled her homework out of her backpack.
“Nothing’s better than a car,” she said.
“This is,” Ted said.
“Would you want it?” Liz asked.
“Yes,” Ted said.
Her parents were definitely, Liz thought, giving her old cell phone back to her.
When her mother called her down to dinner, Liz went into the bathroom and applied a quick layer of lip gloss, then fluffed out her hair. Not that she cared about how she looked in front of Jeremy. Why would she? It was only Jeremy.
But still.
She came down the stairs, through the living room, and into the dining room. Her mother had taped streamers that said High School Musical 3! on them all around the room. In the middle of the big round dining table was a sheet cake that, just as Jeremy had assured her, had a photo image in icing of Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez from High School Musical on it. Liz’s mother, father, and brother all stood on the far side of the table, wearing High School Musical party hats and blowing High School Musical party horns excitedly as Liz walked into the room. Not far from them stood Jeremy and Alecia. Each of them wore a party hat as well, though Jeremy was wearing his around his face, so it looked like an enormous beak.
Alecia was squealing anxiously, “Surprise! Surprise! Aren’t you surprised, Liz? You didn’t suspect a thing, did you?”
“Oh, my gosh,” Liz said. “I’m so surprised.”
“Are you really, honey?” Mrs. Freelander asked, beaming. “I was sure you knew. When you wanted something to eat and I wouldn’t let you because I said it would spoil your appetite for dinner, I was sure you knew.”
“Heck, no,” Liz said. “I had no idea.”
Liz could tell Jeremy was smirking behind his party hat by the way the skin around his eyes was crinkled up. He refused to take the hat off his face, even when Ted begged him to show him a bandal chagi, or crescent kick.
“No tae kwon do in the house, boys,” Liz’s mother reminded them as she came out of the kitchen with her homemade lasagna, Liz’s favorite. This was rapidly consumed on High School Musical paper plates. “I know you’re too old for High School Musical, honey,” Mrs. Freelander explained. “But it was that or Dora the Explorer at Party Kaboose. And I wanted your party to be festive. A girl only turns seventeen once.”
Then it was time for cake and presents. Liz took a big bite out of Zac Efron’s head. Her gift from her parents was a brand-new cell phone. It was the kind that, unlike her old one, could download music, take pictures … everything.
“Oh,” she said, genuinely surprised. “Oh my God,
thank you.”
“Happy birthday,” Mr. Freelander said in his quiet way. “You’ve been working so hard to pay us back what you owe, so your mother felt—”
“You’re on the family plan,” Mrs. Freelander interrupted him. “So don’t be texting … well, everyone you know, all night long.”
She knew what her mother meant by “everyone.”
“No worries,” she said. Everyone was long gone. She and Evan hadn’t spoken since that day she’d paid that surprise visit to him, walked into Edmondson 212A, seen him in the arms of that girl, and walked out again without another word.
Liz stared down at the bright orange gadget. If this was in her hand, then what was in the barn?
In the distance a car horn honked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alecia said, apologetically gathering up her jacket. “That’s my mom. She’s picking me up to go to Kate’s. Liz, here’s your present. It’s a gift certificate to buy music for your phone. Your mom told me what you were getting.”
“Oh, great,” Liz said. She gave her friend a hug good-bye. “Thanks so much. Have fun!”
“I will,” Alecia said. She had an excited sparkle in her eye, and was wearing her best denim ankle-length party skirt and Mariah Carey party T-shirt. Her waist-length hair had been brushed to a sheen. “Bye!”
Alecia left, slamming the screen door behind her. Mr. Freelander looked disturbed.
“Where’s she going?” he demanded.
“Kate Higgins’s house,” Liz explained. “You know she has the same birthday as me.”
“Is that where everyone is?” Mr. Freelander asked, looking around the empty dining room. He asked the same question every year on Liz’s birthday.
“Yes, Dad,” Liz said.
“Well, she’s going to miss the main attraction,” he said. “Her loss.”
“I thought this was it,” Liz said, waving the phone.
“That’s not it,” Mr. Freelander said. “It’s in the barn.”
“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Freelander said to her husband. “Not yet. She’s not done opening all her other gifts. She hasn’t opened her gift from Jeremy.”
“It can wait,” Jeremy said, finally removing his party hat and setting it on the table. “I want to see what’s in the barn.”
“You won’t believe it,” Ted said. He grabbed Liz by the arm and started tugging on her. “Come on. You have to see it. Come on. Now.”
“All right, all right,” Liz said, laughing and putting the phone into her pocket. “I’m coming.”
It was a long walk from the house to the barn. It had gotten dark out, though there was enough light from the moon and coldly glinting stars to see by. The frogs in the pond were calling to one another so loudly that it was almost a shock compared to the peaceful quiet of indoors. The air smelled sweetly of cut grass and of the wood Liz’s father was burning in the fireplace in their living room. Jeremy strolled companionably beside her, his hands in his pockets, as the grass soaked their boots.
“So,” he said as they watched Ted and Liz’s parents hurry before them, eager to get to the barn and open the doors to show Liz her surprise. “Do you think it’s a car?”
“Ted says it’s not a car,” Liz said.
“It’s got to be a car,” Jeremy said. “Why else would everyone be so excited?”
“I don’t think they can afford another car,” Liz said.
“You deserve a car,” Jeremy said.
Inexplicably Liz felt herself blush in the cool night air.
But it was different from when she’d blushed in debate class after getting Spank Waller’s note. Then she’d blushed with anger and shame.
Now she was blushing for a different reason entirely.
But before she had time to think about that, her parents were throwing open the barn doors, and Ted was yelling, “Look! Look! Aunt Jody sent it! She got it on her latest trip with SCA!”
As soon as Liz heard that, she lowered her expectations accordingly, and stepped into the barn.
At first Liz thought her aunt Jody—a widow who lived with her four cats and a Pomeranian named Tricki in a gated community outside of Boca Raton—had bought her a large white horse for her birthday.
Which would not have been the most unusual thing in the world, since Liz did, in fact, live on a farm and had once had a pony named Munchkin.
But although Liz had loved Munchkin very much, it had been some time since she’d expressed any enthusiasm whatsoever about owning another horse, Munchkin having passed on to that great pasture in the sky some ten years earlier.
It would not have been unlike Aunt Jody, however, to have mixed up age seventeen with age seven and think there’d be nothing little Liz would want more than another horse to replace the dearly departed Munchkin.
But what stood in the barn in front of Liz, glowing softly with a kind of inner luminescence that seemed to have nothing to do with the electrical light from the bulbs hanging from the rafters some thirty feet overhead, was not a horse.
Or rather, it had a horse’s body—a huge one, nineteen hands high at least—sleek, with a gorgeous white flowing mane and tail, soft blue muzzle, and purple fetlocks.
But jutting from the center of its forehead was a twisting, sparkling, three-foot-long lavender horn.
What her aunt Jody had sent Liz for her birthday was, in fact, a unicorn.
“You,” Liz could not help blurting out, “are shitting me.”
“Elizabeth!” her mother cried in horror. “Watch your language!”
“But that,” Liz said, raising a finger to point at the monstrosity that even now was lowering her noble head to tear at some of the grass poking from Munchkin’s old hayrack, “is a unicorn.”
“Of course it’s a unicorn.” Her father walked over to the animal and gave her a hearty smack on her gleaming white flank. The unicorn tossed her head, her silky mane flying, and let out a musical whinny. Liz got a whiff of her breath, which smelled like honeysuckle. “Your aunt’s always sent you the nicest gifts. Remember that Christmas she sent you that hand-stitched pink fairy costume with the tutu and the detachable wings made out of real swan feathers?”
“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Liz said, flabbergasted. “I was five years old. This is a live unicorn.”
Both Mrs. Freelander and the unicorn eyed Liz reproachfully. Neither of them seemed to appreciate her colorful language. The unicorn in particular seemed disapproving as she delicately chewed the hay Liz’s father had left out for her. Her irises were the same lavender color as her horn. There was no denying it. They were as sparkly as Troy Bolton’s.
“What’s wrong with it?” Mr. Freelander asked defensively. “I think it’s great. Who else do you know who’s ever gotten a unicorn for their birthday?”
“Uh, no one,” Liz said. “Because they don’t exist.” Even Mrs. Rice, the worst teacher in the world, knew that.
“That’s not true,” Ted said defensively. “They’ve been extinct for a while, but they’re making a comeback. It’s all in Aunt Jody’s card. Right, Dad? Give her the card, Dad.”
Mr. Freelander fumbled in his back pocket for something, then drew out a folded card that he passed to Liz. She opened it, and saw that it was as lavender and glittery as the unicorn’s eyes. On the front, next to a cloyingly sweet picture of an unnaturally thin blond girl in a white dress sliding down a rainbow, it said, To my beautiful niece, on her seventeenth birthday.
Opening the card, Liz read, Happy birthday to a niece who brings sunshine wherever she goes! A niece like you is …
Naturally nice
In her own loving way.
Each smile that she smiles
Can brighten a day,
Especially when she’s so pretty and gay!
What the hell, Liz thought. She read on.
Just want to tell you what a joy it is to have you for a niece, and how much beauty you bring into the world, Liz! her aunt Jody had written. That’s why when I saw Princess Prettypants at the renaissance fair I attende
d with my friends from the Society for Creative Anachronisms last month in the Great Smoky Mountains, I just knew I had to buy her for you. I know how much little girls adore their fairies, princesses, and unicorns!
Holy shit, thought Liz.
And I know you’ll make sure Princess P. gets a good home! Aunt Jody went on. Unicorns have been extinct for years, of course, but a few Appalachian breeders have discovered how to clone them from a perfectly preserved specimen found in a peat bog and are hoping that they’ll make a comeback. Soon they should be as popular as VCRs!
There was some other writing at the bottom of the card, but after Liz got to the words “Princess Prettypants,” she could barely stand to read any farther.
Princess Prettypants?
Liz glanced over at Jeremy. Seeming to sense that she was looking at him, he raised his gaze to meet hers.
Liz mouthed the word she was thinking: eBay.
Seriously. With any luck she’d be able to make enough selling Princess Prettypants to pay back all her debts and put a down payment on a decent car. Not a metallic blue Volkswagen convertible Beetle. She’d given up on that dream. Just any car. She’d take any amount of money to get rid of Princess Prettypants, who at that moment let out a delicate fart, filling the barn with rainbows and the scent of night-blooming jasmine.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Liz said.
“Elizabeth Gretchen Freelander,” her mother said sharply.
“Well, I’m sorry, Mom,” Liz said. “But I’m seventeen years old, not nine.”
Mr. Freelander sighed.
“I told you she wouldn’t like it, Debbie,” he said sadly to his wife. “I told you.”
Liz bit her lower lip. What was wrong with her? Here her aunt had gone to all this trouble to ship what was probably a very expensive gift all the way from the Great Smoky Mountains.
The least she could do was be gracious about it.
“No,” Liz said. She noticed that everyone, including the unicorn, was staring mournfully at the barn floor. “No, I like it. I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Ted said. He too was still looking at the floor, kicking at some feed that had fallen from the hayrack. “You think you’re too cool for unicorns. Well, you know what?” Ted lifted his gaze, and Liz was surprised to see that there were tears gleaming in his eyes. “Evan Connor’s little brother, Derek, told me you guys are the ones who’ve been going around stealing plaster geese out of people’s yards!”
