Olivia, when you weren’t there . . . I mean, we might as well have had Disneyland all to ourselves and I wouldn’t have been happy. All day Saturday I was SO SICK. I was worried I would have to cancel the party. My mom said it was nerves, but I’ve never had that before. I just started thinking about who I would sit by while we were painting and what we would talk about. And suddenly I almost wished my birthday would be completely different. I even started to think it might be more fun to just do a night at a neat restaurant with you and tell my parents to save the money. Which was such a practical, non-dramatic thought (well, except for the deposit my parents would have lost), I almost got sick again. Ashley Desdemona would cry into her scarf if she ever heard such normal-person talk.
We got to the party thirty minutes early. I scoped out the different pottery choices, but nothing called to me, even the owl cookie jar I’d been longing for. Whatever I painted would go on the shelf and I would look at it and think, “That’s from my twelfth birthday.” And what if my party ended up being a bust and no one came, or I mixed the colors wrong and my owl or unicorn or narwhal ended up a sad muddy brown?
So I went with a bowl. I decided I’d paint it blue. Seemed like the least dangerous option.
Bethany and Tessa got there five minutes early. Apparently, Bethany is a big believer in being punctual. Dang, they are peppy. Tessa kept flipping her hair. I thought she might knock over a vase with it. Then no one came for seventeen minutes. Yes, that’s exact. It was excruciating. No one told me about that part of party planning—the waiting-for-everyone-to-get-there angst. Can you imagine if NO ONE came after all I’d been through—after all we’ve been through?
But they did. And I think they were all having a good time—I mean, that’s what Bethany’s blog said. And there I was, painting my blue bowl bluer, and feeling guilty because my parents had spent all this money and time so I could finally have a party, and I wasn’t even having fun.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked me when I left the table to find some indigo to swirl into the azure.
“Nothing! This party is so fun! Thanks so much, Mom!”
My mom actually winced. “Why are you using so many exclamation points?”
“Sorry, sometimes that happens when I’ve been around Bethany for a while.”
Mom patted my back. “Olivia really wanted to be here.”
“How do you know?” I grumbled. Remember, we still weren’t talking at this point. So I was in grumbling mode.
“She texted last night.”
I almost dropped my paint. “She what? Why are you just telling me this NOW?!”
Mom shrugged. “Honestly, I forgot. You were in bed—”
“Whatdidshesay?!”
Mom pulled out her phone and showed me the text conversation. Then she pushed some hair away from my face. “Piper, I just want you to have a good time and be happy. I thought doing this big party would be your thing, since you have so many friends.”
“I don’t have so many friends,” I said automatically. “Most of these people weren’t even my friends until last month.”
Mom looked confused. “You mean, you made all these friends FOR the party?”
“Well . . . yeah. The more the merrier—well, more dramatic.”
“Oh, honey, you weren’t trying to make this one of your soaps, were you?”
“No! Sort of.” Um . . . make sure my mom never finds my Casting Sheet, okay? “Not a big episode—if things got too dramatic, then all this pottery would get smashed.”
Mom sighed. “So do you know these kids?”
“Oh, totally. I mean, the church girls I already knew. But we weren’t close or anything. Usually, it’s just me and Olivia.”
“I bet that’s hard not having her here then.” Mom patted my back. I love/hate when she does that, because it’s clear I need it.
It was hard, Olivia! SO SO HARD. And I felt so stupid, because it was, like, in that moment that I realized how grateful I was to have you. There were all these fun, nice people at my party. And I’m really glad I got to know them better, because I think I can really be friends with them all in my big ecosystem of life, yada yada.
But they aren’t you. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how wonderful OUR friendship is. I mean, so you missed my party (initially) for a chess tournament. So what? There are loads of birthday parties in our future! We’re having a combined fortieth birthday party someday! I’m sure we’ll both have lots of friends, but that’s not going to take away from what we have.
All of this is all to say . . . that’s why I stopped off at your house on the way to the party. Your dad said you were busy getting ready. I wish we could’ve talked before your tournament, but he promised to give you the surprise I left. He even smiled.
Anyway, back to the party . . . at this point, I had somehow swirled my blue bowl into a sad brown. I asked Mom if I could do another pottery project if I did it myself, and Mom winked and said, “You’re the birthday girl. Do two.”
I really do have amazing parents, and not just because they sometimes buy me stuff. They let me do mostly what I want and they’re there when I need them. Just thought I should mention that.
So then the door opened, and I hoped it was you, but no. It was Danny Moss, and Andrea, who I invited because we talked about the party the last time I babysat her. And I like her and I don’t care if she’s nine. Tessa spotted Danny so she got up and moved to a faraway table, which was not that mature, but whatever.
Danny scooped up his skateboard and tucked it under his arm so he wouldn’t knock anything over. “Hey, Piper. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks!” Okay, so not only was he NOT being rude, but now he was being nice. I really don’t know what to do about this boy, Olivia.
Andrea gave me a hug. “I’m thinking of painting a lion. Don’t you think a lion would be a good addition to the deserted island storyline we’re doing?”
Um. Yeah. I’ve kind of taught Andrea some LARP techniques with . . . uh . . . her toys. And we’ve maybe made some videos of it. Like, seven videos. They’re pretty popular online, but don’t tell anyone about it.
Andrea went off to find a good lion, and then Danny just stood there. “So, uh . . . should I pick her up at six then?”
“Yep. I bet there are some great places to skateboard around here until then.”
“Oh.” Danny shrugged. “Okay.”
Maybe I’m not as good at sarcasm as I thought, because sometimes people really miss it. “I’m kidding, Danny! Didn’t you see I put your name on the invitation too?”
“For real?” Danny actually smiled. I’ve never see him smile, besides his selling-stuff smile, or being-mean smile. His real-life smile was sort of nice.
I have to admit . . . you were right. I do notice things about him. This is all so weird. And if you tell anyone I will deny, deny, deny.
“Even with Tessa around?” Danny asked.
I glanced behind me. “Tessa already moved so she doesn’t get your germs. Besides, you’re here to help your sister. You’re kind of stuck. And I don’t mind a little drama at my party.” Understatement, right? You know, Danny actually reminds me of Brett McArthur, the friendly but sharp-tongued firefighter from season four of Love and Deception. Did I just use the word “friendly”? Oh, boy. I guess he’s starting to become a friend. Again, this is all so weird.
Danny picked up a big spaghetti bowl. “It would be kind of cool if I made something for my mom for Christmas.”
Which was oddly sweet. But anyway, I don’t know why I spent all these notebook lines telling you about Danny. He did help me pick out the jewelry box. One heart broken in half with “Best friends” on it! So perfect. At this point, I already knew I didn’t hate you and that giving you the jewelry box would be the best way to try and make up with you when . . . (you know this part!)
YOU SHOWED UP!!!!
And that was the best present of the whole party, Olivia. Really, one of the best presents of my life. After that, my party was amazing. Not that I
even cared about the party at that point, because we were just having so much fun, like we always do, and that’s what matters.
Sorry your half of the best-friend heart I made you turned out a little brown. Don’t think that’s a metaphor or anything. I’m just a really lousy painter. Next party, we’re doing LASER TAG instead. ☺
Now, we still need to cover what happened at Crown Pizza (because we agreed we need an accurate record for after all human life is over). But I think I have a really good idea how to do that.
<3,
Piper
Grateful: the color brown, Danny being nice, YOU AT MY PARTY, my parents being so awesome, and being featured in Bethany’s blog. Again. Are we famous or what?
Chapter 34
Piper,
I can’t believe we made it on time. Or almost on time. There were a few hurdles in our way, as you see now with this ticket Dad got. I was fairly sure Officer Danville was going to throw us in jail when Mom demanded we get a police escort instead of a ticket. Dad had to do a lot of “Yes, Officer, in the future we will make it to a kid’s birthday party without police intervention.”
Yep. Dad sped through a neighborhood just to get me to Pottery Palace in time to find you. Dad never speeds. He never even fast-forwards TV programs.
That’s how much my parents wanted to make sure I got there.
Here’s why . . .
We were on our way to the chess tournament. I was in the backseat, where I should have been bouncing my knees, giddy as ever. I should have been happy that the night before, my dad had come to check in on me and said, “I’m excited about tomorrow.”
I should have been beaming as I sat in that backseat.
But I wasn’t. I was biting at my lower lip to stop it from quivering. And Dad kept sitting forward to get a glimpse of me in his rearview mirror. I did my best to stare out the window and hope he didn’t ask questions.
Except when he pulled up to the convention center where the tournament was being held, I saw the sign outside. “Welcome Kennedy Middle School Chess Team.” And by the time my dad had pulled the car into park, my eyes started to well up with tears.
You won’t believe it, but it was my mom who turned around first. She even put her hand on top of mine. “What’s wrong, Liv?”
“I . . . I . . .” I couldn’t talk. I was too busy wiping the snot away. Sorry for the TMI.
Dad turned all the way around to face me. “You’re not worried about the competition, are you?”
Sniffle, sniffle. “I’m at the wrong place—”
“Oh, no. Did I read the directions wrong?” He scrolled through his phone, looking at the map.
“No, Dad. I think I made the wrong choice. And now I don’t know how to fix it.”
Mom patted my hand. “You can tell us.”
“Piper’s birthday party. It’s at the Pottery Palace and then they’re having pizza. It’s a big deal. But I told her I had to come to this chess tournament. I thought this chess tournament would fix everything. . . .”
Dad tilted his head at me. “Fix what?”
Boy, did I ever do the deepest, most cleansing breath ever. Preparing to tell your dad the truth requires lots of oxygen. That’s when Mom squeezed my hand. I looked up at her and saw that her eyes had softened. She didn’t say any words, but that look she gave me . . . wow. It was like she finally understood why I was sad. I’d been waiting so long for one of those dramatic moments like the ones in the movies where I unload my feelings on my parents and they just . . . get it.
It happened, Piper—right there in the backseat of my dad’s Ford.
One more quick breath and I said it. “Dad, I did this—joined a chess club and made it to this tournament . . . just so you’d go with me. So we could have something to do together. I ended up making some friends and it’s been great. But the reason I joined in the first place was so maybe you’d stop thinking about Jason for a minute and—”
He rubbed his temple. “You mean you did this . . . for me?”
Wipe, sniffle, wipe. “Yeah.” I pressed my forehead against the window and added in a soft voice, “I just wanted you to be proud.”
He reached back over the car seat and grabbed my hand. Both of my parents were now holding my hands, if you’re keeping count. BOTH OF THEM. “I am proud, Chicken. I always have been.” He squeezed my hand harder.
I flashed him a little grin. He’d called me Chicken.
I know you’ll get what a huge thing that was. I know you feel like it’s so hard to get your parents to pay attention to you sometimes. Different situation. But totally the same feelings. And I love that about our friendship, more than anything—that you get me too.
But then Dad’s smile faded into a frown. “Oh, no. I forgot to tell you something.”
I sat up straight. “Tell me what?”
“Piper came by the house. She had a surprise to give you, but I told her you were busy. You were doing that nervous pacing thing, and I know how you don’t like people seeing you doing your nervous pacing thing.”
He was right, and it kind of made my insides twitch with joy that he remembered my nervous pacing thing. But for you I would’ve made an exception. Dad didn’t know that, though.
I leaned forward in my seat. “What did she bring me?”
He raised a brow. “A flower. An orchid—a fake one. She said you’d know what it meant.”
I pressed my lips together, hoping I could stop from crying. But tears flowed down my face. I turned into a snot river.
(TMI again?)
“A fake potted plant?” my mom said. “Couldn’t she get you a fresh bouquet from the farmer’s market?”
Mom had no idea how much that fake plant meant to me. But my dad, on the other hand . . .
“So if you want to know what I think?” Dad said with a smile. “I think you’re right. We’re in the wrong place.”
My face lit up. “Do you mean I can go to the party?”
“There is the issue of you letting your team down, though,” Dad said.
I reached for the door handle. “No, there’s not, actually. There’s someone much more deserving of my spot on the team. I have to get in there and find Ellie. She’s the one who really deserves this.”
Dad shot me a sneaky grin. “Then go. Tell her to take your place. We have a party to get to!”
I sprinted inside the building to find Ellie. The guys were already pacing backstage going over chess moves, but there was no Ellie. The bathroom—that was the only place she could be.
And yep, she was hanging out in the last stall, stress-eating a bag of Cheetos with tears in her eyes. “Take my place. You’re the one who’s been in the club since the beginning. You taught me all the things I know. And I don’t even want to be here. Will you please play for me?”
She had just stuffed a bunch of Cheetos in her mouth. “Weally??” And then she smothered me with a hug. But when she stepped back, we realized she had smeared Cheeto dust all over her shirt. “I can’t go out there with this streaked orange shirt.”
Being someone who had cried in a bathroom with a bag of Cheetos before, I knew exactly how that felt. “Take mine.” So we switched shirts. She ran out there wearing a sharp-looking blouse with ruffled sleeves, and I sprinted back out to the parking lot looking like a streaky orange monster.
“We have to stop by the house first. Quick change!”
Mom, of course, was all in favor of this. “Step on it. No daughter of mine is going to an important pottery party without a crisp clean shirt. Or maybe we could just swing by a department store to find something—”
“No time!” Dad and I both yelled.
So that’s why we got a ticket in a residential area. And that’s why I showed up in my favorite Christmas Eve blouse. (It was the only one I could find that was pressed and ready to go on such short notice. Also, I didn’t look around all that much. I HAD TO GET TO A PARTY!)
I’m glad I made it almost on time, at least before the party had moved on to Cr
own Pizza. And I’m sorry I tried to go to some stupid chess tournament instead of your once-in-a-lifetime party event. Which it WAS. Even Tessa and Eve were nice to me. It was as if the third grade incident had never happened.
Sitting there next to those girls made me realize that I hadn’t joined those clubs just to talk to Jackson.
It wasn’t about the guy.
It was about moving on . . . breaking away from third grade me and becoming the NOW me.
Does that make sense? It’s all sort of starting to make sense to me now. It’s about time, I guess.
So your muddy-colored heart jewelry box was perfect. Guess what? Brown is my go-to color when I’m lonely and missing my best friend.
I wasn’t sure if you were missing me all that time that we weren’t talking to each other, but now I’m glad I know you did.
So I guess there’s really only one thing left to say:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PIPER.
It was awesome.
But wait . . . you have a plan for how to talk about Crown Pizza and that whole thing with Jackson? I’m lifting my brow at you . . . I’m very curious. . . .
I have a feeling it’s time to pop some popcorn.
Olivia
Setting: Crown Pizza
(No, Olivia, it’s supposed to be fiction. So call it Dragon Lairs of Evil Ninjas . . . Palace.)
Seriously?
Yes. Remember, I’m the Game Master and experienced LARPer. Please trust me as I introduce you to this magical world.
Yawn. Wow. I’m sort of tired. Maybe I’ll get my jammies on and get to bed.
No! This is the number-one activity of our slumber party. The fact that your parents are letting you spend the ENTIRE night is a modern miracle. That means NO SLEEPING. Besides, I played chess with you!
Played isn’t really the word I would use . . .
CAST:
Orc—Jordan
Ninja Prince—Jackson
Birthday President of the World—Piper
(What does that have to do with warriors?)
(Nothing, but it’s my birthday. I can be what I want, right?)
Rook—Olivia
The Pages Between Us Page 13
