Birthday Vicious (15 page)

“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, 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.

“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.

LAUREN 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 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 a clotheshorse to prêt-à-porter, but you can't make her shrink. Something like that, anyway. Lauren's brain was fried.

Her plan was never going to work. She should have picked someone else to infiltrate the Ashleys with—maybe Sheridan or Melody. Sadie was way too much work.

It was just as well that the Ashleys were so caught up in their own lives that they hardly noticed Lauren spent more time with Sadie than with them. She was even beginning to miss them a little. The other day Ashley had the group over to meet the StripHall Queens and learn some hot new dance moves. Lauren had dearly wanted to go, but that was the same time as their meeting with the fashion stylist she'd hired to help Sadie transform from a “Don't” into a “Do.” So instead of learning how to do a kick-turn-shake-shake-shake, she'd been stuck listening to Sadie complain that necklaces, stockings, and lace underwear made her itch, and that spaghetti straps dug into her bony shoulders.

Lauren wished she would just make up her mind.
Why was it that when she was with the Ashleys, the girls she purported to hate, she had a lot of fun, and whenever she was with Sadie, it was like pulling teeth?

She followed Sadie into the eyeglass shop, just as a boy was stepping out.

“Christian!”

“Oh, hey!” Christian's face broke into a wide grin.

“I didn't know you wore glasses!” Lauren said.

“It's a big secret. I'm like Clark Kent,” Christian admitted. He put his new spectacles on his nose, and Lauren thought he looked even cuter than ever. Then he chucked Lauren on the chin and gave her a quick kiss.

Lauren sighed happily, looking up at Christian. It wasn't until she felt a nudge on her elbow that she remembered she wasn't alone. “Right. Sorry. This is Sadie. Sadie, this is Christian.”

“I'm confused. I thought your boyfriend's name was Alex,” Sadie said, a little too innocently.

“Alex? Your boyfriend?” Christian looked from Lauren to Sadie and back to Lauren again.

Lauren didn't know what to do. She was trapped. She wished that she could melt into the sidewalk and disappear.

“No, she's confused . . . ,” she began weakly.

“No, it's all right,” said Christian quickly. “The guy who was at your house the other day, right? Alex is cool. He's a good guy. I didn't know you guys were dating, but that's okay.”

Lauren felt like her tongue was stuck in her throat. Christian was being way too nice about this.

“Um, I better go. Nice meeting you, Sadie.” Christian hurried away so quickly he was across the street before Lauren could speak.

“Why did you say that about Alex?” Lauren demanded. “It's not true.”

It was only partially true. Alex was her boyfriend. But then, so was Christian. She wondered what Christian was thinking. She felt awful that he had to find out this way. She didn't even get a chance to explain anything.

“What's the deal, then? Are you with Christian or Alex, or what?” Sadie demanded.

“Why are you being so judgmental?” Lauren huffed. None of the Ashleys ever spoke to her this way. They knew she was having a hard time of it and didn't press her or make her feel like a heel the way Sadie was doing right now.

Sadie shrugged and went to get fitted for her new contacts. “I think Alex is cuter, by the way.” But Lauren
wasn't listening. She decided she had to text Christian so they could really talk. But when she pulled out her phone, there was already a text from him.

L, I LIKE YOU, BUT THIS IS TOO WEIRD
, he wrote.
I CAN'T DEAL.

Lauren swallowed hard. She couldn't let herself cry in front of Sadie.

“What do you think of these? They're colored lenses,” asked Sadie impatiently, blinking her eyes rapidly. She didn't approve of text messaging, Lauren knew. She'd told Lauren it would lead to arthritis of the thumbs. Another text message popped up.

I KNOW I NEVER ASKED U TO GO STEADY. BUT I THOUGHT I DIDN'T HAVE TO. I'M OUT. OK?

Lauren wasn't sure what Christian meant, though she had an idea. A very bleak, gray, bad idea. Like he was out of the relationship game. Like he was out of her life.

WHAT?
she texted back, just to make sure, even though she didn't want to know.

SORRY. STAY FRENZ?

BFF
, Lauren replied, but her hands were shaking. Now she wouldn't have to decide between Christian and Alex, because Christian had decided for her.

LILI REALLY WANTED TO MEET
the Ashleys for their usual preparty powwow. But of course, she wasn't allowed to go anywhere. Not even to Starbucks before school! The others were sympathetic, but she could tell that Ashley was annoyed with her. Lili's decision to go camping with Max had jeopardized Ashley's happiness, because it meant all the Ashleys might not be present, lording it over the rest of the seventh grade, at her birthday party extravaganza. Luckily, Ashley was too busy obsessing over some mystery guy to be really mad with Lili.

Nancy had picked her up, as usual, and brought her home to the big mock-Tudor mansion in Presidio
Heights. Lili's usual Tuesday after-class, helping a genetic researcher at Stanford in his lab, had been canceled because he had to fly to Sweden for dinner with the Nobel selection committee. So Lili had some unscheduled free time. Perfect for figuring out which outfits would be worn in what order at the party.

Instead she finished up her homework, flipped through her deck of flash cards for the ISEE's (prep-school entrance exams), and spun a few times on her Aeron office chair, wondering how she should reorganize her bedroom. It was a big room, with a huge, carved, dark-wood Chinese bed in the center, the bed piled high with red embroidered cushions. Whenever Lili was bored, she rearranged these cushions by shade and shape, and sometimes by the pattern of their embroidery. But she didn't have much enthusiasm for that today.

Her phone rang, and she snatched it up.

“Hey, Lili.” It was Max. Yay! She might not be able to see him, but at least they could still talk on the phone.

“I'm so glad you called,” she told him, spinning with glee in her chair. Luckily, she was safely out of the car and shut in her room. Lili didn't want her mother to find out that she and Max were still an item. No boyfriend
until she was fifteen? As if! That was
years
away. That was almost college!

“I'm really sorry about this weekend,” he said. She liked the way his voice sounded—sort of husky and slow. “Those doofus girls were supposed to sort out the ride home, but I should have known they'd mess up. They're both kind of flaky—not like you.”

Lili smiled at the compliment. She was anything
but
flaky.

“You looked like you were in big trouble,” said Max. “Sorry you got busted.”

“That's okay,” said Lili, trying to sound breezy. She didn't want Max to know she was virtually a prisoner in her own house.

“And we're still on for the party on Saturday, right? The guys are really looking forward to it. The Ashleys are pretty famous at our school, you know.”

“Of course we're on for the party!” Lili promised. No way was she telling him her parents were still undecided about letting her go. Her father had said that if it were up to him, she'd be sent to Taiwan for the rest of the school year, to live in a boarding school run by Buddhist nuns, where girls weren't allowed any material possessions except for a gray tunic and a tin food bowl. Eeeeuch!

“LILI!” Yikes—it was her mother, calling her at top volume.

“Better go,” she told Max. “Speak to you later, okay?”

“But . . . there was something I—”

“What?” Lili was curious, but her mother was roaring for her again. Not a good sign. She'd better hurry up.

“Nothing,” said Max. “I mean, you'll see. Bye!”

She slipped her phone into the top drawer of her antique writing desk and rushed out to see what her mother wanted.

“You'd better get downstairs right away, Miss Lili,” said one of the maids, padding along the Turkish carpet of the hallway, her arms stacked with fluffy yellow towels. “Your mother is going crazy down there.”