by Kate Brian
Teagan smiled. "I seem to be making history a lot tonight."
At that moment Emily's mother stalked in from the kitchen, her face already boiling red.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" she demanded, squaring off with Teagan. She wiped her hands vigorously on a towel and then balled it up as if she was going to throw it at Teagan's head.
"Mom!" Emily exclaimed.
"Mrs. Zeller, I-was
"You have a lot of nerve coming into this house after what you've done tonight, Teagan Phillips," she said. "Now, I know you lost your mother and I'm sorry for that, but it doesn't give you a lifelong pass to act like a spoiled child."
Teagan swallowed hard and stared at Emily's mother. On some level, she felt like this was exactly what needed to happen.
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"I know," she said quietly.
A door upstairs opened and Emily's aunt Catherine descended the steps slowly, hugging her sweater to herself. She looked absolutely stricken to find the central character in her current nightmare standing at the bottom of the stairs. Gary followed her, a pair of jeans and a gray sweatshirt in his hands, but he had the intelligence to hang back.
"Now I hope, for your mother and father's sake, that you figure all this out before it's too late," Mrs. Zeller said, her skin slowly returning to a normal shade. "Otherwise I have no doubt about how you'll end up."
For a long moment everyone was quiet. Emily watched Teagan uncertainly, clearly wondering if she was just going to bolt or throw a fit. Teagan simply took a deep breath and looked at Emily's mother. She wondered if her own mother had been around for the past few years if Emily's mother would have said the same thing to her. She had a feeling she would have.
"I'm sorry. You're right," Teagan said finally, her pulse racing. "Everything you just said is absolutely true."
There was a stirring in the living room as Emily's friends reacted to this. Mrs. Zeller couldn't have looked more stunned if Ed McMahon had just walked in with a million-dollar check.
Teagan turned to Catherine, who clenched her jaw and eyed her stoically.
"I'm truly sorry for what I did to you earlier," she said. "I was totally out of line and I want you to know that George Lowell should be calling you. Soon. Tonight, hopefully."
The phone rang and Catherine exchanged a look of disbelief with her sister. She ran down the last few steps and together they headed for the kitchen phone.
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"Well. This party just got a little more interesting," Emily said.
Relieved, Teagan laughed and looked down. Only then did she realize she was still clutching the gift bag.
"Oh! Here! I know you already opened all your presents, but-was
Emily took the bag, a quizzical expression on her face. "How did you know that?"
Teagan shrugged and watched as Emily pulled the pink cashmere sweater out of the bag.
"Whoa," she said, rubbing the cushy fabric between her fingers. "This is the softest thing I've ever felt."
"I hope pink is still your color," Teagan said.
"Totally," Emily said, holding the sweater against her chest. "Teagan, I love it. But you didn't have to -- his
"Yeah, I did," Teagan said, pleased.
Emily reached over and hugged Teagan --rain, cocktail sauce, and all. "I'm so happy you're here," she said.
Teagan closed her eyes against a sudden stinging of tears. "Me too."
There was a systematic pounding on the stairs and Teagan looked up to find Ricky jumping down them one at a time, his face tight with concentration. Gary got out of his way so he could make it down to the floor. Once he got there, he looked up at Teagan curiously.
"Hey, Ricky," Teagan said.
"How d'you know my name?" he asked.
"Yeah. How do you know his name?" Emily added.
Teagan had opened her mouth, her brain scrambling for a response, when Catherine and Mrs. Zeller walked back into the room, saving the day.
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"Well, that was George Lowell," Catherine said. Was it just Teagan, or had a little color returned to Catherine's cheeks?
"He offered me the promotion!" she announced.
Teagan's jaw dropped.
"No way!" Emily shouted, throwing her arms around her aunt. "Congratulations."
'Yeah, Mom!" Ricky cheered, hugging her legs.
"I couldn't believe it," Catherine said, grinning. She reached down and lifted Ricky into her arms, where he wrapped both his legs around her hips. "He wants me to come in on Monday and fill out all the insurance paperwork and everything. I got a huge raise and he's paying me for a full night of work tonight." Catherine turned to Teagan, holding on tight to her son. "What did you say to him?"
Teagan lifted her hands. "Don't look at me! I just thought you were getting your old job back."
Everyone laughed and Mrs. Zeller slid her arm around Teagan's shoulders. "You did good," she said. "Sorry for yelling at you before."
"Actually, it was kind of nice, feeling like I had a parent for five seconds," Teagan told her as Catherine started relaying the details of her new job to her niece and nephew.
"Really?" Mrs. Zeller asked.
'Yeah. Just don't let it happen again," Teagan joked.
"I can't believe I'm actually wearing this," Teagan said. She pulled away the elastic strap on her gold birthday crown and let it snap back. "Ow!" she cried, rubbing her chin.
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"Nice one, brain trust," Gary said, slapping her on the shoulder as he walked by the end of the table with the cake knife.
Emily laughed and adjusted her own crown. "Why? You feel stupid?"
"No, not that," Teagan said. In fact, she felt more comfortable than she had all day in Gary's cozy Penn State sweatshirt and Emily's jeans. "It's just. . . been a while."
"Eh. Not that long," Emily said.
Her boyfriend, whose name had turned out to be Adam, sat down at Emily's other side and lifted his disposable camera. "Smile, ladies."
Emily slung her arm around Teagan's neck and pulled her close for the picture. They both grinned, then blinked against the flash's shadow.
"Nice one," Adam said.
"So, Teagan, what do you think they're doing over at your party right now?" Jennifer asked, leaning her elbows on the table.
Teagan checked her watch. By now the cake had probably been cut. Max and Lindsee were probably getting busy in some tasteless, semi-exposed corner of the room. The models had most likely revolted and were now dancing with the hot senior boys. It was quite possible that the rest of the younger guests, accustomed to parties with free-flowing alcohol, had overthrown George Lowell's regime and raided the liquor pantry. Meanwhile DJ Busboy was on the mike playing Lord knew what while everyone wondered what the hell had happened to Shay Beckford. All in all, it was probably deteriorating into a disaster.
'You know what, Jennifer? At the moment, I couldn't care less," Teagan said.
The lights dimmed and Emily's mother appeared with a
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homemade cake covered in tiny candles. She started off the round of the happy birthday song and everyone joined in, including Emily, who sang Teagan's name, and Teagan, who sang Emily's name. Mr. Zeller snapped pictures with his digital camera.
"Okay, girls! Make a wish!" Mrs. Zeller said as she placed the cake down in front of them. Teagan was touched when she saw that Emily's mother had added Teagan's name under Emily's, writing tiny and at an angle to fit it.
Teagan reached out under the table and took Emily's hand. Emily looked at her, surprised. Teagan grinned back and then they both turned to the cake and closed their eyes.
I wish for a better future than that crap fest I saw tonight, Teagan thought. And since it's my sweet sixteen, I think I should be entitled to an extra. So I also wish that Catherine lives a long, happy life and never falls off the wagon. Oh! And I also wish that my dad and I will be closer and that he and Karen will be happy and that Shay Beckford will actually call.
&nbs
p; She opened her eyes and saw that everyone was staring at her. Oops.
"Ready?" Emily asked.
"Yeah," Teagan replied firmly.
"One . . . two . . . three!"
They blew out the candles together and everyone applauded. Teagan laughed and sat back in her chair. For the first time in her life, she was absolutely certain that wishes actually mattered. After everything she had been through tonight, there was no doubt in her mind that magic was real. She touched the crystal necklace and looked up at the ceiling, knowing that if her mother had any say in it, all her wishes would come true.
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GOSSIP PAGE
SCHIZO-SIXTEEN Teagan Phillips's Party of the Century: Fab or Freaky?
By Melissa Bradshaw, Senior Editor
Teagan Phillips claimed her highfashion-themed bash was going to be talked about for years to come, and was she ever right. What started out as a bizarre, tension-filled fete worthy of a tabloid write-up (the birthday girl got doused in cocktail sauce and freaked out, then disappeared; her boyfriend and supposed best friend got a little too hot and heavy on the dance floor) turned into the blowout bash of the decade. And when the last of the delectable cake was eaten and the lights finally came up, Teagan herself had only witnessed about ten minutes of the party she purportedly worked on for over a year.
After disappearing for an hour, presumably to get cleaned up, Teagan reappeared, still stained and now barefoot, to make a heartfelt speech and perform a spotlight dance with her formerly estranged father. She then ripped into Max Modell and Lindsee Hunt for their stunning slutdom and took off with DJ and Rosewood Prep graduate Shay Beckford for who knows where.
Once the two luminaries (would it be too early to call them a couple?) departed, the party really got going. Some random hottie calling himself DJ Diggler took over the mike and dropped some serious beats for the remainder of the night. The models--hired by Teagan because they were "attractive but not taller or thinner or prettier than [herself'--came down off their stages and took over the dance floor, "woo- woo-ing" their way into a few hearts. (Rumor has it Marco Rosetti took two of them home.) Led by Jimmy Barton, the senior boys managed to locate and break into the champagne fridge and soon the Taittinger's was flowing like it should always be. At 1 A.M., when the scantily clad events manager tried to throw everyone out, Maya Thurber and Ashley Harrison handed over their parents' plastic to keep the rager raging.
In the end, fun was had by all, especially those who walked out with new belly button rings completely gratis. This reporter did not partake, though I was pleasantly surprised to find out from certain experts that I can pull off a blond chin-length bob and that I am, in fact, an autumn.
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Turn the page for a sneak peek of Kate Brian's next novel:
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Pick up tray with both hands. Place change on tray. Do not drop change. Do n... drop ...
Lane managed to transfer the coins and bills from her sweaty palm onto the side of her plastic lunch tray without overturning the whole thing. She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled in triumph at the cafeteria worker. The woman looked like she was about to phone the school shrink.
Lane managed an apologetic smile and stepped aside.
"And then, out of nowhere, my dad's like, 'If you don't get all As and B's on your final report card, you're not going to camp1'" Curtis babbled to her as he stepped up to the register. "I mean, how wrong is that? I'm a head counselor this year."
As always, he was totally oblivious of Lane's extreme stress--all of which was caused by him. Lane pretty much lived not to do anything embarrassing in front of Curtis. As long as she didn't, she figured that one day her fantasy of him waking up and realizing she was his one true love
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might actually come true. She knew it was a thin thread of logic, but she had to cling to something.
"Don't you think?" Curtis asked.
"What? Oh yeah," Lane replied, not really knowing what she was agreeing to.
"So then I'm, like, I am so totally screwed. I mean, there's no way I can pull a B in Calc. Lazinsky sucks, giving us that much homework," Curtis continued. He paid for his lunch, pocketed the change, and picked up his tray with one hand. He clearly had no problem. "We're graduating in a month. Is he some kind of sadist?"
"You could just not do it," Lane suggested.
"Were you not listening to me? I have to get a B or no camp this summer. I have to do it," Curtis told her as they started down the center aisle of the cafeteria. Lane glanced at him from the corner of her eye and smiled. As silly as it was, she loved the way he looked in this light. The gold flecks in his brown eyes seemed brighter, and the sun brought out the red highlights in his floppy brown hair. What she wouldn't give to be able to paint him in the middle of the cafeteria. It would totally be her masterpiece. The best thing she'd done all year, hands down. If only she could get him to ...
"So will you?"
Lane stopped walking abruptly, and her soda almost slid off the edge of her tray. Luckily, Curtis caught it in time.
"Whoops. That was close," he said with a grin. There was the tiniest little chip in his front tooth from a skateboarding accident he'd had earlier that year. He always touched his tongue to it when he was concentrating really hard. It was totally adorable.
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"Will I what?" Lane asked, balancing the tray against her hip. She nervously pulled her hair over her shoulder.
"Help me. With Calc. After school," Curtis said in a voice that made it perfectly clear he'd said all of it already.
Lane had planned on spending her afternoon in the art studio finishing up her senior project. She'd been looking forward to it, actually. She had even created a new playlist on her iPod for inspiration. But Curtis was looking at her with big, puppy dog eyes, and she could never turn down that face.
"Sure. Want to meet up in the library after eighth?" she said, tugging at her hair again.
Curtis grinned. "What would I do without you?"
I don't know. But right now you should kiss me, she thought. Then she blushed and turned around, heading for their prime cafeteria spot.
They always sat in the same place, right next to the glass doors to the courtyard, which were always open on a beautiful spring day like this one, letting in the warm sweet-smelling air. Lane's knees were quaking a bit after her space-out, and she couldn't have been more relieved when she slid safely into a chair. Unfortunately, the vibe at the table was not a happy one. Isabelle was slumped in her seat as she had been all week, listlessly toying with her fork, while Vivi eyed her sadly. This had to stop. Lane had never seen her friend so depressed for so many days in a row. Usually, she and Shawn would have kissed and made up by now--not that Lane wanted that to happen. She just wished she could figure out some other way to cheer Isabelle up.
"Hi, guys!" Lane said brightly.
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"Hey." Isabelle's voice was barely a whisper.
"What's up?" Curtis asked, shaking his chocolate milk. He looked around at the girls hopefully, as he'd been doing all week long. Lane knew he was just waiting for them all to snap out of it already. Curtis was a good friend to them, but he knew nothing about the required female mourning period after the end of an intense relationship.
"Nothing," Isabelle replied in another near whisper, staring listlessly out the window.
Curtis sighed, shrugged, and grabbed a fry. Lane saw him look at Isabelle out of the corner of his eye, and she knew he was trying to think of a way to cheer her up. Which only made her love him more.
The door to the cafeteria opened, and Lane and Vivi both looked up automatically, as anyone facing the door did when there was a latecomer. It was Tricia Blank, and she was wearing a very familiar black sweater. Lane's face prickled with heat, and she looked over at Vivi. Instantly she knew Vivi recognized it, too. They had, after all, spent an hour in the hot, crowded, Christmastime mall helping Isabelle pick it out. And anoth
er half an hour helping her select the perfect manly wrapping paper for it.
"Oh, I don't believe th...," Vivi snarled through gritted teeth.
"What?" Isabelle asked, turning around. Lane wouldn't have thought it possible, but Izzy's skin actually grew sallower before her eyes. "Wait. Is that the--?was
"The sweater you bought Shawn for Christmas?" Vivi fumed, shaking her head.
Isabelle looked over at Shawn's table, where he sat with
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the rest of his friends--kids who thought that wearing offensive T-shirts and keeping packs of cigarettes in the back pockets of their jeans made them anarchists. Shawn instantly locked eyes with Isabelle, as if he had Izzy radar, then glanced over at Tricia, who was busy smiling and chatting with some of her girlfriends near the wall. He was out of his chair like a shot and walked right over to Isabelle's side.
"Belle," he said, his blue eyes pained.
"You gave her my sweater?" Isabelle said, her voice thick.
"No. I swear. She must have taken it out of my dresser," Shawn said pleadingly. As if he cared about Isabelle's feelings. As if he had any conscience at all.
"She was in your room?" Isabelle half whimpered.
Shawn pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and looked around at the others. "Belle, can we please just talk for a second?"
"Don't call me Belle," Isabelle said sadly.
"Fine. I'm sorry. You're right. Can we j... please?"
"Fine," Isabelle said, standing.
She and Shawn walked to the other end of the table near the open doors.
"Unbelievable," Vivi said, shaking her head so furiously that her messy blond bun tumbled into a ponytail. "I can't believe she's actually talking to him."
She got up quietly and walked around the table, headed for the vending machines near the wall--about three feet from where Izzy and Shawn were now standing.
"Vivi!" Lane hissed.
Vivi turned around and shot her a wide-eyed look, telling her to shut up. Lane deflated and turned back to her food.
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It wasn't like she was going to argue. Vivi was going to do what Vivi wanted to do anyway.
Over at the vending machines, Vivi made a good show of it, pulling some change out of her pocket and pretending like she was totally baffled by the myriad candy choices. Meanwhile, Shawn and Izzy just kept talking, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the eavesdropper. Finally Vivi aggressively punched in a number, grabbed her Twix bar, and stormed back to the table. She yanked out her chair and dropped into it with a huff.
