by Kate Brian
"Happy birthday, dear TeaganandEmily . . . happy birthday to you!"
Teagan and the ghost appeared in the dining room just as the dozens of kids around the table finished up their out-of- tune song. Marcia set the humongous cake down in front of Teagan and Emily, who sat at the very end of the long table.
"Wow. It's really Marcia! It's so weird to see her!" Teagan said, her heart squeezing. Marcia lifted her dark curls over her shoulders and smiled proudly as she stepped back from the cake. Teagan wanted nothing more than to go over and hug the woman --her mother figure for so many years --but she held back. She knew by now that it wouldn't be possible.
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"What do you think?" Marcia asked, clasping her hands and looking at the girls.
"It's beautiful!" little Emily replied. Little Teagan said nothing.
Emily reached up and adjusted the gold crown that sat jauntily atop her blond curls. Teagan's crown still hung from the back of her chair.
"I can't believe they were still trying to make us wear crowns in sixth grade," Teagan said with a scoff, leaning one arm against the wall. "You can't fault me for refusing to compromise my fashion sense, am I right?"
"Emily's wearing hers," the ghost pointed out.
"Please! So what? That girl would wear anything her mother asked her to wear," Teagan said. "Look at her! Black cords in May? And that pink top is blinding. She's a walking fashion don't."
The ghost blew out a sigh and shook her head.
"What?" Teagan blurted. When she realized she wasn't going to get a rise out of the ghost, she leaned back against the wall to watch the proceedings. It didn't matter what the ghost thought. About this, she knew she was right.
Emily, meanwhile, opened her mouth in awe over the cake. The white butter cream icing was trimmed with pink and yellow flowers. Both their names were written on the top in florid script. Beneath each name were thirteen candles. Twelve for the birthday plus one for luck.
Gary, at this particular time very tall, very skinny, and semi-cute--when he wasn't being a jerk--leaned over from his seat on the side of the table and poked little Teagan on the arm.
"Ow! Stop it!" little Teagan whined.
"Ow! Stop it!" Gary mimicked, making a face.
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What a total loser, Teagan thought, recalling all the teasing and bruises she had endured from Gary as the years went on. The whole "when a boy shoves you, it means he likes you" method of flirting.
"Gary! Be good!" Emily's mother said, swiping her hand over his head and mussing his hair.
"I am being good!" he said, poking little Teagan again.
"Ow!"
"Gary!" Emily's father said in his I-mean-business voice.
Emily's mother sighed in frustration. "Okay! Make a wish!" she called out, clearly hoping for some distraction.
Little Teagan stuck out her bottom lip and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly.
"Come on!" Emily said with a laugh. She grabbed for little Teagan's hand. Every year they would hold hands as they made their wishes, thinking it would make the wishes stronger and help them come true. But now little Teagan jerked away from Emily, turning her body sideways so Emily couldn't get ahold of her. Emily's face fell as she gazed uncertainly across the huge expanse of the table at her parents, who hung back by the wall. All the other kids at the table looked at Emily's parents as well.
"Go ahead, baby," Emily's father encouraged her.
Emily shrugged, took a deep breath, and blew out her own candles. Everyone cheered.
"Teagan? Aren't you going to make a wish?" Marcia asked.
"No," little Teagan said stubbornly. "I don't want any cake."
"No. I don't want any cake," Gary mimicked.
Marcia laughed in an embarrassed way and looked at Emily's mom and dad. The two dozen kids gathered at the
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table stared at the cake, salivating. Finally Marcia leaned down and blew out the candles herself. She picked up the cake and took it back to the kitchen for slicing.
"Ready in five minutes!" she called over her shoulder.
A few impatient groans arose, mostly from the boys who were present. Emily clapped. "I know! Let's play Star Connect!"
"Yeah!" Cassidy Sherman cheered, raising her pudgy hands in fists. "I'll start."
Teagan snorted a laugh. "Cassidy Sherman ruled at Star Connect. She owned like four hundred movies. She even got TiVo before everyone else."
"Josh Hartnett," Cassidy said, looking at the boy sitting next to her.
"Okay, Josh Hartnett was in Pearl Harbor," the boy said, looking at Jennifer Robbins.
"Ben Affleck!" Jennifer said, looking proud of herself. "Ben Affleck was in Pearl Harbor!"
"Ben Affleck . . . Ben Affleck . . . um . . . Armageddon!" Emily said, looking at little Teagan.
Little Teagan just sat there, still in pout mode. Her face was flushed as she pointedly stared at the far wall, away from Emily.
"Come on! You know this!" Teagan said to her younger self, putting her hands out. "Armageddon! So easy! Everyone was in that! Liv Tyler! Billy Bob! Owen Wilson! Oh, but did anyone know who Owen Wilson was yet?" she asked the ghost.
"I'm partial to Luke," the ghost said with a one-shouldered shrug.
"Me too!" Teagan cried.
"Teagan? It's your turn," Emily said tentatively.
"So what?"
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"She doesn't know!" Gary said, overdoing a laugh. "Oh my God! It's so easy and she doesn't know!" He pointed at Teagan with one hand and the other, over and over again, laughing his butt off.
"I know!" little Teagan said, whacking Gary's hand. "I just don't want to play."
Gary continued to cackle and point, and Teagan could see that her younger self was turning redder and redder. This was about to get ugly.
"Omigod! Shut up, you little psycho," Teagan muttered, glaring at Gary. If only she could actually defend her younger self. The more upset little Teagan got, the more squeamish older Teagan became.
"Why not?" Emily asked. "Why don't you want to play?"
"'Cuz it's a stupid game!" little Teagan shouted finally, whirling on her best friend. "I don't even know why you want to play it! It was a stupid, dumb idea!"
"Teagan!" Emily's mother said in a scolding voice. "Apologize."
Little Teagan turned on Mrs. Zeller. "You can't tell me what to do! This is my house and you're not my mother!"
Mrs. Zeller paled and looked at her husband like she was hoping for reinforcements. Unfortunately he looked even more uncomfortable than she did.
"Come on, Teagan. It's our birthday," Emily said quietly. Suddenly her face brightened. "What do you want to do? Whatever you want, we'll do it," she offered.
"I want you to leave me alone!" little Teagan shouted, pushing her heavy chair away from the table.
"I want you to leave me alone!" Gary repeated in a whiny voice.
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"Shut up!" Little Teagan screamed in his face. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Gary's maw of a mouth finally slapped closed.
As little Teagan raced past the door to the kitchen, Marcia returned with plates full of cake. Little Teagan paused for a split second and batted a few plates out of Marcia's hands with a whack, sending icing and plastic forks flying.
Teagan gasped. "I can't believe I just did that!"
A piece of cake hit the floor with a splat and another landed right on Jennifer's head. Jennifer instantly started to wail. Little Teagan ran out of the room and headed for the stairs as Marcia apologized like crazy and started cleaning up the mess. Mrs. Zeller tended to a hysterical Jennifer and Emily just sat there, looking for all the world like she had just lost her best friend.
"What's wrong with me?" Teagan asked. "How could I do that to Marcia?"
"You let your anger get the best of you," the ghost said. "As usual."
Teagan chose to ignore the tagline. "But why? Emily said I could do whatever I wanted. Usually that's my favorite t
hing to hear," Teagan said. "It's like I didn't even want to cheer up."
"Are you any different today?" the ghost asked, turning to face Teagan and looking her directly in the eye.
As Emily got up and started handing out the non-ruined pieces of cake to her friends, Teagan felt her blood start to boil.
"You know what, ghost?" she said. "You are getting on my last nerve."
"Too bad," the ghost said, taking Teagan's hand. "We're not done yet."
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Upcoming Sweet Sixteen Party
Transcript 4
Reporter: Melissa Bradshaw, Senior Editor, Rosewood Prep Sentinel
MB: This is Melissa Bradshaw, back with Teagan Phillips to talk about her upcoming high-fashion sweet sixteen. Teagan, it's nice to see you again.
TP: Well, that other reporter turned out to be completely unprofessional.
MB: What exactly happened between you two? He won't talk to anyone on the staff and he's decided to just do box scores from now on. Says it's his calling or something. Do you know how boring box scores are?
TP: Well, we all have to follow our bliss. Do you have any actual questions for me?
MB: Right, well, I wanted to ask you what you hope to gain from this party.
TP: What I hope to gain?
MB: Yes, you're putting in all this effort and money and you're a smart girl on her way up in the world.
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TP: Thank you for noticing.
MB: So you must want something good to come out of it. Prestige, popularity ....
TP: Are you suggesting I need to throw a party to get friends? Because I already have friends. Plenty of them. It's not like I need to bribe people to hang out with me.
MB: No. Of course not. I'm not suggesting that at all. I was just asking--
TP: What do I want to get out of this party? Well, a fun night and a ton of presents. How's that for an answer?
MB: Good enough. Good enough. Moving on . . .
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Teagan found herself standing on a tree-lined street, the sun warming her shoulders. Tiny, cookie-cutter houses stood all in a row, each a different color than the last, but each the exact same shape and design. Kids played hopscotch on the sidewalk and the driveways were filled with low-end cars like Hyundais and old-model Hondas. Everything looked very familiar, but Teagan couldn't put her finger on why. It wasn't like anyone she knew lived in a neighborhood like this. There were no gates, no winding driveways, no huge trees blocking out any and all views of the tremendous houses.
"Where are we?" she asked the ghost, taking a deep breath of the floral air. She pulled her Michael Kors sunglasses out of her bag and slipped them on.
The ghost took hold of Teagan's shoulders and turned her around. Everything came back to Teagan in a rush. Emily's house. Seeing the outside now was just as strange as standing in the entryway had been. There was the fading blue paint and
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the black shutters that didn't close. There was Mrs. Zeller's ugly black Ford Taurus in the driveway. There was the gap in the white picket fence where Gary had smashed through on his skateboard, ending up with thirty-four stitches in his leg--all because he was trying to impress Teagan with his skills. (Instead Teagan had fainted at the sight of all that blood.) There was the tulip border that she and Emily had helped plant when they were in grade school. And at the window, staring out at the street with a forlorn expression, was Emily herself.
Emily looked older than she had at their twelfth birthday party but younger than at her sixteenth. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her style had improved since age twelve. She was wearing a light pink tee with a screened- on surfer design and low-rise jeans. Probably sale items at Old Navy, but still a major upgrade from the awful corduroys.
"What year is this?" Teagan asked, taking a couple of steps toward the front walk.
Teagan felt a hand on her shoulder, and for a split second she thought they were outta there, but instead she suddenly found herself inside the house, standing right next to Emily. The floor below her feet trembled from the din of the party raging in the basement below. Music and laughter filled the house, but Emily looked to be in a decidedly party-pooping place. Her arms were crossed over her stomach. In one hand she held a small wrapped gift.
"What's she doing?" Teagan asked. "What kind of birthday girl ditches her own party?"
"You haven't been at yours for quite some time," the ghost said.
"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" Teagan tossed over her shoulder.
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"Yours, actually," the ghost said. "You're the one who fell down the stairs."
"Hello? I'm dead over here!" Teagan trilled, waggling her fingers. "A little compassion, please?"
"Hey! I'm dead too!" the ghost told her.
Teagan blinked. "Oh yeah. Right."
A car approached out on the street and Emily jumped, leaning forward to see out the side of the window. Teagan could practically feel the sizzle of excitement coming off her. When she saw it was just a silver Acura, she clucked her tongue and resumed her former pose. It was all kind of... sad. It made Teagan think of the many, many times she had window- watched over the years, hoping her father would show.
"Who's she waiting for?" Teagan asked.
Feet pounded on the rickety basement stairs and the noise exploded for a second as the door opened and closed. Emily checked her plastic watch and sighed as Gary came barreling into the room.
"Whoa. Talk about an awkward phase," Teagan said with a smirk.
At about sixteen years of age, Gary was at least six-foot four and pushing 250 pounds. His red T-shirt strained to cover his rolls and his skin was covered with angry red pimples. How had he gone from this to the hottie who had appeared at Emily's sweet sixteen?
"I can't believe he actually let himself get like that," Teagan said. "But thank the Lord he turned it around."
The ghost cast her eyes heavenward. "Do you think you could focus on something beyond looks for five seconds?" she asked, opening her hands in frustration.
"What? I'm just saying," Teagan replied. "Jeez, ghost. Chill."
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"Dude, what're you doing up here?" Gary asked Emily, out of breath. "Everyone's wondering where you are."
"She said she'd come," Emily half whined, turning away from the window for less than a second. "Where is she?"
"The girl is a total beyotch if she doesn't want to be here for your birthday," Gary said, doing a little downward hand gesture move that he probably thought was gangsta cool. It just made him look even dorkier. "But hello? There's like twenty- some people down there who did show."
"Yeah, but she said she'd come . . .was Emily said reluctantly.
Teagan swallowed down a hard lump that had formed in her throat.
"They're talking about me, aren't they?" she asked the ghost. "Where was I?"
The ghost took Teagan's hand, and in a rush of warm air, Emily was gone. The last thing Teagan saw was her former best friend tossing the tiny wrapped present on the couch. The card attached had one word scribbled across the front. Teagan. Next to it was a little bff
Teagan brought her hands to her head in an attempt to quell the dizziness. She knew where she was before she even opened her eyes. The juniors department at Neiman Marcus had a very distinctive smell. Trendy perfume meets synthetic fabric meets recycled air. She would know it anywhere.
"I was at the mall?" Teagan asked, opening her eyes. The room spun and she leaned one hand on a table stacked with colorful silk T-shirts in an attempt to steady herself.
"I don't know why you should be surprised. You do spend
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about eighty-five percent of your time here," the ghost said. She picked up a checkered cabbie hat and tried it on, turning to a small mirror and adjusting pieces of hair around her face.
"That's a gratuitous estimate," Teagan said, irritated. "I do have school."
"I meant eighty-five percent of your free time," the ghost said
, discarding the hat.
Teagan blinked. "Oh."
Just then she heard her own voice babbling away over by the bathing suit display. Sure enough, there was Teagan, age fourteen, flanked by Lindsee, Ashley, and Maya. Ashley was pudgy and short, her teeth dotted with clear braces. Maya's dark hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and without her now-size-D chest she looked significantly younger. Lindsee looked almost exactly the same but with slightly less makeup. Teagan, her arms full of clothing, was very skinny and self-assured. Teagan couldn't help smiling over the massive improvements she'd gone through since she was twelve. It just showed what a girl could accomplish when she put her mind to it. And stopped eating. And read nothing but beauty and fashion mags. And had a lot of free time on her hands.
"Here. Ring it up," young Teagan said, tossing at least three dozen hangers on the glass counter. The saleslady's eyes lit up and she dropped the copy of Elle she was perusing. Clearly she was foreseeing a nice fat commission for doing absolutely nothing. "You are going to look so hot in that pleated mini," young Teagan said to Lindsee.
you don't have to buy it for me," Lindsee said, absently twirling her hair.
"Please! It would be a crime to leave it here," young Teagan replied.
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"Omigod! Look at these cell phone cozies!" Lindsee squealed, picking a zebra-print sleeve off a rack on the counter.
"How cute are those?" Teagan said with a gasp. She removed a furry one with a leopard print and ran her fingers across it. "I have to have one."
"Excuse me! Are these real fur?" Maya asked, taking a brown one that looked like it was made out of mink.
"Of course not," the woman said with a snort as she removed an anti-theft tag from a pink leather jacket that Teagan had no recollection of ever wearing. "The whole line was personally approved by Alicia Silverstone herself."
"You're kidding," Ashley said, grabbing a model that looked like it was skinned from a dalmatian.
"I'm totally getting this," Teagan said, tossing it on top of the pile of clothing.
"Teagan! It's a hundred dollars," Ashley gasped, checking the price tag.
