The Sweetest Thing (16 page)

I didn't really want to get in another huge fight with Feb, so instead of heading straight over to SBB's place after school, I went home to drop off my school-books and tell her where I was going. When I got inside the house, I found her sitting at the kitchen table, wearing an old chenille bathrobe of our mom's, drinking coffee and writing out an extensive to-do list. A pile of law briefs stamped CONFIDENTIAL sat next to her on the table.

“Flan, I noticed that you didn't make your bed this morning,” she snapped as I walked past her toward the refrigerator. “I want this house to look cleaner.”

“Did
you
make your bed this morning? Or even once when you were in high school?” I asked, pushing aside some sketchy-looking leftovers and reaching for the peach-mango juice.

“Be that as it may,” she grumbled, tapping at her calculator. I rolled my eyes. “Hey—I saw that.”

“Give it a rest, okay Feb?” I plopped down on a chair across from her. “I want my sister back.”

“And I want you to learn some responsibility. Life isn't just an endless series of parties, Flan. It's hard work and … and a bunch of other stuff too.”

I sighed and wished that I'd told Sara-Beth not to invite Feb to the Halloween party after all. She'd probably just spend the whole evening trying to get people to clean up after themselves and sign up for SAT prep classes and God knows what else.

“Listen, I'm going over to Sara-Beth's house for a while,” I said, putting my juice glass in the sink. “I'll be home in time for dinner, okay?”

“Absolutely not! You're not going anywhere till I see your homework all finished and ready to turn in.”

“I'll work on my homework over there!”

“You'll work on your homework upstairs in your own bedroom where you can concentrate.”

“You've got to be kidding me.” I stomped away.

“Learning responsibility is a good thing!” Feb called after me. “One day you'll thank me for this!”

“I seriously doubt that!”

I sighed, exhausted from all the sharp words. What the hell had happened to the girl who never left home
without her cell-phone-shaped flask? Who never once said the word
homework
without rolling her eyes? Who got so wrapped up in her social life she forgot to come home for weeks on end? Who taught me how to swing dance in the middle of Central Park? I almost felt like crying as I slammed my door shut and locked it. My parents were off on some transcontinental voyage, my sister was an alien, and Patch was supporting her over me. Well, just because Feb had decided out of the blue that she was “responsible” didn't mean I had to follow suit. I got the rope ladder out of my closet and climbed down into the yard to visit Sara-Beth Benny.

When I got over to Sara-Beth's house, the back door was propped open with a toolbox. A half dozen men in splattered coveralls were painting the walls and ceiling while several others installed new cabinets in the kitchen. It was kind of incredible what they'd accomplished—the place seriously looked like something out of a horror film. The new cupboards all had big gashes and dents in them, like the murderer from
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
had moved to Manhattan and taken a dislike to the décor. The walls were now a dark, smoky gray and the trim was a rich, pumpkiny orange. The walls that had dried had delicate cobwebs stenciled onto them, and one painter was carefully flicking crimson droplets onto the floorboards. It took me a
minute to understand what he was doing, but then I noticed Sara-Beth Benny lying nearby, her arms and legs splayed like she'd fallen from the ceiling. Someone had outlined her body in white, like the chalk outlines they do around corpses at crime scenes, and “blood” splatters fanned out from her bent body.

“Flan, I'm so glad to see you!” Sara-Beth grinned up at me from her dead-body position on the floor. She was wearing a lacy black top and a necklace strung with little spider charms. “What do you think? Isn't it spectacular?”

“It's fantastic!” And I meant it—there was something eerie about this particular style and how it really did seem to match the house well. Or maybe it just matched Sara-Beth. …

“Have you met my new designer? Lenore? Lenoore!” Sara-Beth called. A woman with long dark hair and a flowing burgundy velvet skirt bustled into the room. She wore a black corset that was so tight it looked like it was cracking her ribs, and her arms were almost as skeletal as Sara-Beth's.

“I just got off the phone with the taxidermist.” Lenore clasped her hands together and smiled with pure delight. “He said the ravens and black cats should be ready by tomorrow morning. And if you still want the two-headed rabbit, he has one in stock.”

“Oh, absolutely. But it must be pure white with big shiny red eyes! Isn't that wonderful, Flan?” Sara-Beth asked, her eyes shining. “The animals are going to be beautiful. He's won all kinds of awards.”

“That's … great,” I said, wondering what kind of awards a taxidermist could win.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have to call Evolution about getting those skeletons delivered.” Lenore smiled at me pleasantly. Her eyeteeth were exceptionally pointy. “Nice meeting you.”

“I'm so excited about this party,” said SBB, getting up carefully to avoid smudging her outline on the floor. “Have you picked out a costume yet?”

“Actually, I have. I'm going to be a princess,” I said. “Do you think that's stupid?”

“Not at all! Oh, you always come up with the cutest ideas. In fact …” Sara-Beth snapped her fingers. “I'll be right back.”

She left me standing there awkwardly with the workmen while she disappeared up the stairs. I looked around for somewhere to sit down before I remembered she'd gotten rid of all her furniture. Fortunately, Sara-Beth is almost as quick as she is tiny, and she came back in no time at all.

“Someone gave this to me eons ago—I wore it in a cereal commercial where I played a princess who
wouldn't eat anything but Double Fluff Rice Sugar Puff Flakes,” she explained, holding out a box. “I still remember my line: ‘But Daddy, I won't eat anything but my Double Fluff Rice Sugar Puff Flakes!'” She laughed. “Take it from me, once we actors really get into a character, they're always there, inside of us. I can't even tell you how many voices I'm hearing in my head right now! But, anyway, you can have this, because it's just totally going to waste.”

I opened the box and gasped. Inside was the prettiest, most elaborate silver crown I'd ever seen. It had little jewels in it, and this sort of delicate filigree that made it sparkle under the light. I took it out of the case and put it on my head. It fit perfectly.

“You look adorable!” Sara-Beth clapped her hands. “I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight, I'm so excited. Can you believe Halloween is tomorrow?”

I put the crown back into its case. “If I'm even allowed to go,” I said gloomily. “Did you already send the Evite to Feb and Patch?”

“Oh no! I forgot!” Sara-Beth pulled out her BlackBerry and started pushing buttons frantically. I snatched it out of her hands.

“Wait! I'm glad you didn't. Feb's acting like such a controlling mother, I'd rather not have her at the party staring over my shoulder and judging everything I do.”
I shook the image of Feb chasing me around SBB's party with a spatula out of my head and handed the BlackBerry back. “I'll just tell her I'm coming over here to watch movies, and by the time she figures out what's happening, it'll be too late for her to do anything about it.”

“All right,” Sara-Beth agreed, inspecting a new cobweb on the wall. “Are your friends still coming?”

“Well, Bennett can't make it, but Meredith and Judith are going to be here. And unfortunately, they invited Adam too.”

“Unfortunately? Flan, you're so silly!” Sara-Beth tiptoed through the splatters of “blood” on her floor. “I can't wait to meet him. Why wouldn't you want him to be here?”

“I don't know, it's just so confusing.” I hugged the crown box and looked down at my shoes. “Meredith and Judith are going to be clawing each other's eyes out. … I guess the truth is, I wish I didn't like him so much.”

“Ah, young love.” Sara-Beth sighed, adjusting the spider charms on her necklace. I didn't bother reminding her she was only three years older than me. “Maybe since you're dressing up as a princess with my bee-yoo-tiful tiara, he'll come dressed as a prince and ride in on a horse, like Liesel did for her sweet
sixteen, and then he'll swoop you up and kiss you at midnight—oh my God, can you picture anything more romantic—and then it'll really be like a fairy tale. …”

SBB rhapsodized for several more minutes about my budding fairy-tale romance with Adam, but no matter how hard I tried, I kept getting stuck on the midnight kiss part.

The next day was Halloween, and the whole school day was one big celebration. It was like Halloween madness had taken the place of football fever: all the teachers were giving away Snickers bars and bags of Skittles, and one peppy cheerleader type was even handing out pirate-shaped cookies that you could color in yourself, like those ones you can buy at Mets games. By the middle of the day everyone was way too sugared-up and hyper to get any real work done. Even though it was all kind of silly and over the top, it was nice, too, because with all the cheesy orange crepe paper decorations and the geeky math teachers in Harry Potter hats and the iPod speakers playing “The Monster Mash” in the halls, I almost forgot to worry about the party that night.

After school, Judith and Meredith came back to my neighborhood with me to get dressed up in our
costumes and watch the Halloween parade. I was glad when we walked into my house that Feb was nowhere in sight—it would have been really embarrassing if she lectured my friends on their scanty costumes or did something else equally horrifying. We played with Noodles for a while—he always does this insanely cute thing where he stands up on his hind legs and tries to kiss my friends right on the lips—and then we snacked on whatever we could find, which was hummus and pita bread and carrot sticks and cheese. As I munched on a piece of slightly hard Wisconsin cheddar, I found myself wishing that if I had to put up with Feb's psycho mom routine, she had at least kept up the cookie-making phase a little bit longer.

After we finished eating, we went up to my room to get dressed and put on all our makeup. Even though her ladybug costume wasn't the most creative, Meredith managed to do some really artistic things with her makeup—she put on red glitter eye shadow that gave her a great, devilish quality, and she put a couple of black dots high on each cheek. I had her do my makeup, too, but Judith wouldn't let Meredith get near her with the eyebrow pencil—it was obvious she thought Meredith was planning to sabotage with a fake mustache or something, which struck me as a little paranoid.

“Okay, I admit I had my doubts,” Judith told me once she saw me in costume. “But you look gorgeous. Where'd you get that crown?”

“Beauty contest.” The two of them looked at me all surprised. “Kidding. Sara-Beth gave it to me.”

I gave myself one last look-over in the mirror. Maybe I hadn't put on a sexy pirate dress or a lady-bug leotard like my friends, but I thought I looked really nice. I felt sad that Bennett wouldn't get to see my costume, and then felt guilty because I hoped Adam would think I looked pretty.

“What's wrong?” Meredith asked, tilting her head at my reflection in the mirror.

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing. Come on, let's go.” I put on my clear Lucite shoes and grabbed my purse, and the three of us hurried out to watch the parade. It didn't start for another hour, but we wanted to get a good spot, and some people camped out there hours ahead of time.

The Halloween parade is just about the wildest thing I've ever seen in Manhattan. It turns my neighborhood into a complete zoo every year—literally about two million people show up for it—but I don't mind, because it's like Mardi Gras, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and an avant-garde performance-art piece all rolled into one. Every year it starts out with the
puppets, these enormous living sculptures that go flailing down the street, in front of all the floats and stuff. Skeleton-shaped puppets usually go first, and I've also seen puppets of the Statue of Liberty, robots, monkeys, and Godzilla. They used to give me nightmares when I was a kid—some of them move so realistically they almost look like they're alive—or dead—but now I'm so used to seeing them that it wouldn't feel like Halloween without them.

It's also worth going to the parade just to see everybody's costumes. Anyone is allowed to join the Halloween parade, and a lot of people from my neighborhood get really into dressing up for it. I've never done it, but plenty of times I've seen Patch and his buddies go marching by dressed as gladiators or ninjas or whatever else they think is cool that year. Other people dress up in way weirder costumes, though. A lot of people go in pairs—ketchup and mustard, a policeman and a doughnut; once I even saw three people dressed up as rock, paper, and scissors, which I thought was pretty cute. And I'll never forget the year I saw a big burly guy dressed as Cruella de Vil chasing about twenty people in Dalmatian suits around the corner onto Perry Street.

Anyway, the parade is usually a blast, and this year was no exception. Meredith and Judith and I stood
there on the sidewalk for about an hour, laughing and clapping and cheering at all the wild stuff going by, and I never got tired of it, not even when some kid dropped his ice cream right next to my shoes and started screaming at the top of his lungs and his mother (who was dressed as a pumpkin) had to elbow past us to get him out of the crowd. Nor did I mind the guy who stood two feet away playing a tuneless song on the accordion, because his tinfoil trench coat was actually kind of cool.