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Birthday Vicious

Page 11

by Melissa de la Cruz


  Oh. Was that it? Sure. A.A. could do that. Jeanine always thought the guy she was dating was "the One," which was why she'd been married so many times.

  "Sure, Mom." And maybe if they met Sven, this famous film director Jeanine kept talking about, maybe she wouldn't talk anymore about having A.A. miss Ashley's big party.

  Jeanine smiled. "Now, where's that yogurt? Doesn't that damn chef realize I'm getting older and more wrinkled by the second?"

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  19 WHAT MOTHERS DON'T KNOW AND WHAT DAUGHTERS DON'T TELL THEM

  L ILI HAD THOUGHT THAT SATURDAY WAS THE WORST day of her life, but that was before she got into her mother's car outside Max's house on Sunday.

  "Ashley Olivia Li, I have never been more ashamed of you!" Her mother had always been great at multitasking, and today was no exception. She could drive and yell at the same time.

  "I'm sorry, Mommy," Lili mumbled, picking at a muddy patch on her jeans. She couldn't wait to get out of these clothes and burn them. Her mother was making her sit on a copy of the San Francisco Chronicle so she didn't dirty the seats of the black hybrid SUV.

  "You lied to me, you lied to your father, you lied to poor Mrs. Alioto. When she found out you were supposed

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  to be there, she was beside herself with worry!"

  Lili thought that was pretty unlikely. Jeanine had told her once that worrying caused lines, and that the only thing she ever worried about was losing her figure. But this wasn't a good time to argue the point with her mother.

  "I didn't mean to upset everyone," Lili said in a small voice. "I just wanted to go camping."

  "Camping!" Her mother sounded both amazed and sarcastic. "Since when have you been interested in such a thing? You don't like hiking. You don't like carrying things. You don't like being outside. You certainly don't like getting wet and dirty."

  "No." Lili was forced to agree. She'd hated everything about the trip, apart from Max. Plus there was that whole debacle with the Bad News Bear.

  The memory of the gloating faces of the Ugly Stepsisters, staring at her as her mother pulled away, would haunt her forever. They were so happy she was in trouble!

  They were probably still giggling now about what a spoiled brat she was. And it was all their fault--if Jezebel hadn't "forgotten" to make arrangements with her parents to come and collect them, they would have been home in time. Instead they'd had to wait a whole hour and a half for Max's dad to turn up. Lili could swear that Jezebel had done it on purpose.

  "And," said her mother sternly, her shiny helmet of

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  black hair making her look more warrior-like than ever, "I'm extremely disturbed by something that man said. That Alan Costa."

  Lili searched her mind: What could Max's dad have possibly said? She'd been so busy trying to retrieve her belongings--and her dignity--from the back of his dad's Jeep, she wasn't really paying attention. The whole thing was just too embarrassing. Max had jumped out of the car to help her, but the long, pitying looks he was giving her just made everything worse.

  "What?" she murmured, realizing that her mother was waiting for a reply, scrunching down in her seat for protection.

  "He said that he hoped the weather this weekend wouldn't put you off going camping again with Max."

  "Oh," said Lili, though it came out as more of a squeak. Nancy pulled up outside their house and beamed the remote at the heavy black gates. Like maximum-security prison gates, Lili thought, as the car turned into the driveway.

  "So this is the reason, I presume, why you wanted to go camping. This Mar." Her mother made his name sound like a dirty word. "I presume he's a Gregory Hall boy."

  "Not exactly," Lili murmured. "He goes to Reed Prep."

  "That nuthouse that's trying to pass itself off as a prep school? How on earth did you meet him?" Nancy didn't sound impressed.

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  "He's in my French conversation class," Lili explained. "You know, with Madame LeBrun."

  Nancy grunted. If Max had scored some points with her mother for taking pricey French lessons, she didn't show it. They pulled up outside the four-car garage, designed to resemble an old stable block. Lili didn't dare get out of the car yet; she didn't even unsnap her seat belt.

  "Now listen here." Her mother turned to face Lili, her dark eyes intense. "From the way you look, it seems you've already been punished for this stupid, selfish adventure of yours. You could have drowned or frozen to death up there! Who goes camping in December?"

  "It was horrible," Lili said, her voice quavering. It was true: She'd hated it up on Mount Tarn. It was too foggy to see any views, too cold to enjoy being outside, and too wet to do anything but shiver. She was glad to be home, apart from being in the worst trouble of her life. She wished the bear had eaten her. The look on her mom's face was dire.

  "But still, you have to realize that you can't always do what you want. What kind of example does that set for Josephine and Brennan?"

  Lili was about to point out that her little sisters didn't care about anything except their acres of toys and their four-poster purple princess beds, but before she could open her mouth, she was struck by a horrible thought: Ashley's party!

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  Would her parents say she couldn't go? They knew this was the most important thing to her. It was the perfect evil punishment! Why, oh why, had Lili agreed to go on that stupid camping trip?

  "So," Nancy continued, gathering up her Birkin handbag and opening the car door, "I'll have to discuss a suitable punishment with your father. At the very least, you will not be going anywhere but school and your other lessons for the next few weeks."

  "But the party!" Lili couldn't help herself--the words just slipped out. She turned to her mother, who was still poised to get out of the car. "It's Ashley's birthday--her Super-Sweet Thirteen!"

  Nancy sighed and shook her head.

  "Really, Lili, you should have thought of that before embarking on this ridiculous escapade."

  "Mom! I'll do anything--I'll stay in for the next year, really! I'll look after the twins! I'll do anything you want! But please let me go to Ashley's party."

  Nancy's mouth twitched.

  "Maybe," she said. "Maybe not. We'll see how this week goes. But one thing, young lady. I don't want to hear another word about this boy Max. You're far too young to be dating. You should be concentrating on your studies and not thinking about boys. You're not allowed to date until you're

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  fifteen, just like your older sisters. Do you hear me?"

  "Yes, Mom," Lili replied. Her mother had no idea that both her older sisters had been more than adept at dating behind their mother's back. Lili remembered watching the two of them duck out from the second-floor window to the roof and shimmy down the gutters. Then it was a quick jump to the bushes and the sidewalk, to freedom and the waiting arms of their boyfriends.

  Lili looked outside her window to the street below. There was a way to get to Ashley's party. She just hoped the bushes wouldn't be too prickly.

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  20 A CUTE DATE IS THE MUST-HAVE ACCESSORY TO ANY PARTY

  E VEN THOUGH THE DAY WAS KIND OF COLD,

  Ashley wriggled into her cutest fall boating outfit--Tory Burch white pants, a Petit Bateau

  striped sweater, and powder blue hand-stitched Tod's deck shoes--and walked down to the marina. The rain had finally cleared, all the clouds blown out to sea by the stiff breeze. Ashley had no intention of taking her Sunfish out on such a windy day--the danger of damp pants, hello! But the marina had other attractions, namely the off chance she might spot the elusive Cooper again.

  After inviting him to her party, she realized she didn't even know where to send an invitation. She thought she would drop one off at his yacht.

  It had been only a few days since Ashley's parents had

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  dropped the baby bombshell, and she still needed time to recover. The good news: There was no more talk of her party being canceled or downsiz
ed. Matilda and Henry were so concerned about Ashley's emotional well-being, they'd capitulated on almost every detail of her Super-Sweet Thirteen. Thank goodness! Now that the entire seventh grade of Miss Gamble's was invited, it was more vital than ever to make the impression of the century. Make that the millennium.

  The bad news was that Ashley still didn't have a boyfriend. All the other Ashleys would be turning up at the party with dates. Lauren even had a choice of two. But since the end of her nonromance with Tri Fitzpatrick, Ashley was alone. She was going to be sweet thirteen and never been kissed. It was pathetic. She had to do something about it, and soon.

  The marina was jammed with bobbing yachts, each bigger and whiter than the next. Ashley padded down the narrow dock that led toward her family's berth, her eyes peeled for any sign of Cooper. And there he was, standing on the deck of his boat and shouting at her!

  "Hey!" he called, and she resisted the urge to break into a run, even though this was exactly what she'd been hoping for. "Ashley, right? We're going out for a spin around Alcatraz--want to come along?"

  Did she? That was a no-brainer. Not only was Flown the Coop one of the most impressive luxury yachts in the whole

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  marina, it was the personal property of the best-looking boy she'd ever seen in her life. He was so stunning, she was a little worried he might be prettier than her.

  The breeze was ruffling Cooper's dark mop, and she loved the way he was standing there, a coil of rope in his tanned hands, looking all sporty and capable and confident. Even better, apart from the uniformed captain of the yacht, visible on the upper deck, Cooper was alone. Ashley was sick of all those lacrosse jocks who just wanted to hang out together and talk about goals and defensive plays and attack positions. Yachting was an ideal sport, as in there was a driver--captain, pilot, whatever!--so all you had to do was enjoy the ride.

  "I was hoping you'd come by," he admitted with a shy, crinkling-up-at-the-edges smile, reaching out a hand to help her on board. "I should have asked you for your number last time."

  "That's okay." Ashley beamed. The yacht was amazing. Its three above-water decks were all gleaming steel and expensive dark wood, and there was a built-in U-shaped seating area in the stern of the boat, complete with what looked like a giant white-paneled coffee table, which turned out to be the cover of a Jacuzzi. If only Ashley had brought her bikini!

  "How long can you stay out?" Cooper asked, giving her a tour of the below-deck galley and living room, explaining that

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  there were four master berths with en suite bathrooms on the bottom deck, each named for a different island in the Pacific.

  "A couple of hours--or however long you want," Ashley told him. She had a ton of homework to do, which she'd been ignoring all weekend, but that wasn't important. Her mother could write a note to Miss Gamble's, explaining that Ashley was going through a serious emotional trauma right now and couldn't possibly focus on her schoolwork. That was totally true, except the trauma was mainly about her NBK status rather than the future mini-Spencer imposed on her by her embarrassing parents. Priorities, priorities!

  Cooper consulted with Captain Jack, who had a strong Jamaican accent and several gold teeth, and they promised to have Ashley back well before dark. Soon they were puttering out of the marina and into the dark open waters of San Francisco Bay, the city spreading around them like a vast arena audience.

  Ashley always loved seeing the city from the water, though if she were with her parents right now, sailing on the Matilda, she'd be complaining about the cold wind and insisting on staying inside to watch Tyra reruns on the satellite TV.

  But somehow, with Cooper, the ice-edged fall day seemed romantic rather than unseasonably cold. When he noticed her shivering, he produced a gray Hermes blanket to wrap around her shoulders and carried out a steaming mug

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  of organic Guatemalan hot chocolate, which--he promised after Ashley explained her life-threatening allergy--came from an entirely nut-free mountainous region.

  "This is such a great boat. It's a Lürssen, isn't it? They're the best," Ashley said, admiring the ship's sleek lines. She knew they were also the most expensive--her late grandfather had one.

  Cooper shrugged. "It's just okay. So, how're things going with your mom?" he asked.

  "Not great--she's pregnant. I'm going to have a baby brother or sister," said Ashley, taking a sip from her cup.

  Cooper smiled. "That's cool."

  "Really? Do you have brothers or sisters?"

  "No, but I wish I did. It gets kind of lonely being an only child."

  It was nice to speak so easily to a guy for a change. Unlike Tri, Cooper had plenty to say--talking about the history of the harbor and his favorite sailing destination (Cabo, just like hers!), as well as telling a not-too-gross story about the only time he'd ever been seasick, when they were sailing in Hawaii. Ashley sipped her hot chocolate and made sure the blanket didn't completely obscure her cute sailing outfit, snuggling down into the big, comfy cushions of the seating area.

  "It's less than a week to my party," she told him. They were sailing past the craggy, foreboding presence of Alcatraz,

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  and she snuggled closer to him. "I've been working so hard to make sure everything will be perfect."

  She told him about all the circus plans--the decorations, the band, the costumes, the Chinese and Russian acrobats whom Mona Mazur had wrangled away from Cirque du Soleil especially for the occasion, even though it meant they had to interrupt world tours and cancel visits to children's hospitals.

  "It sounds pretty amazing," Cooper told her, pushing up the sleeves of his gray sweater and slipping on a pair of Ray-Bans.

  "You can come, right?" Ashley just wanted to make sure. "I brought you an invitation." Of course he was coming. He seemed much more into her than Tri had ever been. Maybe she wouldn't have to wait until her birthday party to get kissed.

  "I ... I don't know," said Cooper, taking the invitation and stuffing it into his pocket without looking at it. "I mean, I'd really like to, but ..."

  "But what?" The boat was rocking, and Ashley set her cup of hot chocolate down so she wouldn't spill any on her white pants.

  "I'm not really a big party kind of guy." He gave her a rueful, totally adorable smile. She wanted to squeeze him the way she squeezed Princess Dahlia von Fluffsterhaus when her puppy had just chewed something and was looking especially cute.

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  "It's not a real big party," she said, backpedaling. "I mean, it's totally low-key and just a few friends."

  Cooper grinned. "Uh-huh. After all you've told me, I'm surprised the mayor isn't coming."

  "Actually, he is. He's my godfather."

  "I kind of don't know if I'll fit in," he said.

  "What are you talking about? You can't even think about missing it."

  "We'll see," he said. Irritatingly, that was all he would say. She picked up her mug of hot chocolate again. The sun was getting low in the sky, and her perfect afternoon was almost over. Ashley had never met a guy like Cooper before.

  He was so down-to-earth about owning this awesome boat, as if it didn't matter in the least, that he had to be a Greek oil heir or something. Only people who had money oozing out of their pores were that dismissive about having it. The fact that he was shy about coming to her party made him even more attractive. She couldn't wait to show him off to all her friends! Before they sailed back into the marina, Captain Jack gently maneuvering the long, elegant boat into the dock, Ashley had made up her mind: She had to make sure Cooper attended her birthday party.

  If he wasn't there, then the whole party might as well be canceled.

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  21 LAUREN IS SO NOT A MADE COACH

  L AUREN WAS WORRIED. SHE REALLY DIDN'T KNOW if she could pull off the transformation of Sadie Graham from nerd to neo-Ashley. It was

  Monday already--and that meant the final countdown to Ashley's birthday party the following weekend
had begun for real.

  And just in case anyone had forgotten about the pending festivities, Ashley had hung a banner that read SIX DAYS TO THE EVENT OF THE SEASON. HAVE YOU RSVP'D? over the main doors of the Little Theater. She had let it slip that a certain smooth R & B crooner with the number one hit in the nation, "Baby, I Like Your Booty," was going to serenade her at the party. Half the girls in class were in love with him. By the time MOD announcements were over, the

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  entire seventh grade at Miss Gamble's was in a state of near hysteria.

  But Sadie was still playing it cool.

  "It's just a stupid party," she told Lauren on their way out of the school gates that afternoon. They were walking to the optical shop so Sadie could get fitted for contact lenses at long last, after days of driving Lauren crazy with her indecisiveness. "I don't know why everyone thinks it's such a big deal."

  "You'll enjoy it," Lauren wheedled, though she was almost at a breaking point with Sadie. She'd been spending almost all her time trying to whip Sadie into shape, but her friend was far from being grateful.

  She complained that her new haircut, an asymmetrical long bob, with honey-golden streaks, made her look like an Afghan hound. She'd tried on more than fifty of Lauren's outfits and didn't like any of them, whining that they were all too revealing, too tight, too loose, too rough, too bright, too sheer, too patterned, or too old for her.

  Then Sadie insisted that she couldn't walk in high heels, not even two-inch heels, and lectured Lauren about damaging one's feet and perpetuating dangerous female stereotypes.

  Sadie was so obstinate: She wouldn't get her ears pierced, or even consider a push-up bra. Lauren was in despair. What Ashley always said was so true: You can lead

 

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