“Hey there, Malibu Stacy,” Holly said. She was one of the first to arrive at Mads’ party, and she'd brought a tall girl with small, silver wire-rimmed glasses and lots of curly brown hair. Britta Fowler.
“Audrey, it's not your party!” Mads snapped. “Go out back and help Adam subdue Boris.” Boris, the Markowitzes’ boxer puppy, kept jumping all over the guests, leaving them covered with muddy paw prints. So far, luckily, only Aunt Georgia and M.C. had been hit, but Mads wasn't about to let Boris destroy her party, so she begged Adam to tie him up.
“I don't want to get all muddy!” Audrey whined.
“Just go away then,” Mads said.
“Mads, this is Britta,” Holly said, nodding at her friend.
Mads tried to put on a calm hostess smile, even though she was frazzled. “Nice to meet you, Britta. Come on out back—that's where the party is.”
Lina, Ramona, Walker, and Sebastiano were already there, sipping drinks out of plastic cups and making polite chitchat with the Overlord and Uncle Skip. It was terrible. Nobody ever had fun at a party where they had to talk to parents all night.
“Turn up the music,” Holly advised. “Then your parents can't hear what anyone's saying.”
“Brilliant,” Mads said. She hurried inside and cranked up the volume. When she returned to the backyard, she found Stephen waiting for her.
“Hi,” he said. “Funky house.” Mads’ house had been built out of cedar in the seventies, and most of the rooms had several different levels. It was hard to tell how many floors the house had.
“Thanks.” Mads wanted to take his hand, but she stopped herself. She felt awkward. Sean hadn't arrived yet. But when he did…well, she wasn't sure how much time she'd have to talk to Stephen. And he wasn't really friends with anyone else at the party. She led him to the picnic table where Holly, Britta, Lina, Ramona, and Sebastiano sat and listened to Adam holding forth on photosynthesis.
Autumn, Rebecca, and company arrived, and Mads spotted some juniors and seniors she didn't really know. Sean must have spread the word. Soon the backyard was crowded with kids munching on quesadillas, sipping virgin mojitos, and yammering over, the music.
Sean arrived with his usual entourage of Mo, Barton, Jen, and Alex. Audrey rushed over to him.
“You're Sean, right? I heard all about you.”
Mads raced to her side for damage control. “Hi, Sean. Audrey, M.C. wants you.”
“Who's the little chick?” Sean asked, nodding at Audrey. Audrey beamed.
“That's my sister,” Mads said. “She was just leaving.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” Audrey said. She looked Alex up and down. “What's your name?”
“The Boogie Man.” Alex made a monster face.
Audrey pouted. “Don't talk down to me just because I'm eleven.”
“Whoa. Sor-ry.”
“Audrey—” Mads said. “Why don't you all get something to drink?”
Mo, Alex, and Jen filed past her. Pulling up the rear was a tall, leggy blonde in jeans. Jane—the girl Sean had been hanging with for weeks now. It wasn't clear what their relationship was. But Sean grabbed her by the hand, pulled her toward him, and wrapped his arm around her.
Oh. Maybe Mads had misunderstood. Maybe Sean hadn't asked her to Alex's party as a date, but just as part of the group.
A wave of disappointment washed through her. For a few seconds she couldn't move. Sean didn't want her, not yet.
But as the disappointment melted away, she realized she never really believed it was a date. She'd only wished for it.
It's all right, she told herself. It's still a step in the right direction. Being part of Sean's group was very cool, and Mads decided that for now, she'd take it.
She glanced across the yard at Stephen, who was talking to Sebastiano. Now she was free to go out with him, and who knew where it would lead? That helped blunt the disappointment, too.
“Jane, you know Madison, right?” Sean said. It was the first time he'd ever bothered to introduce Mads to Jane—or even call her Madison instead of “kid.” “She's the girl who drew my prize-winning portrait.”
“Hi,” Jane said. “Congratulations. She's the one who won the prize, you know,” she said to Sean. “Not you.”
“I'm her model,” Sean said. “I deserve a little credit, don't I?”
“You inspired me to new creative heights,” Mads said.
“See?” Sean said to Jane. She kissed him. Well. It wasn't the evening Mads was expecting. But now Sean knew her name. And he had come to her house. She was moving ever closer to her goal. In the meantime, she had someone else to keep her busy.
Stephen and Sebastiano were leaning against the lemon tree, laughing over something. Stephen caught her eye and watched her weave toward him through the crowd. The closer she got, the happier Mads felt. She had something good to tell him.
“Hi,” she said to Stephen and Sebastiano.
“Great party, Mads,” Sebastiano said. “Your little sister's a riot. Do you think she'll sing ‘Oops I Did It Again’ if I pay her?”
“She'll probably do it for free,” Mads said.
“Far out. But I've got gum, just in case she requires a bribe. Does she like Dentyne Ice?” Mads nodded and Sebastiano set out to find Audrey.
“I forgot to ask you,” Stephen said. “What did Sean say when he saw the portrait?”
“He said, ‘I've got a great body,’” Mads told him.
“Really?” Stephen laughed.
“Um, Stephen?” Mads said. She felt nervous all of a sudden. What if he'd changed his mind? Three hours had passed since he said he liked her. Anything could change in three hours.
“Stephen, would you like to go out tomorrow night?”
“Are you sure?” Stephen said. He looked at the knot of people gathered at the food table. Mads knew he was wondering about Sean.
“Yes, I'm sure,” Mads said. “I'm glad you like me, because I like you, too.”
“We'll celebrate our blue ribbons,” Stephen said. “And our likability.”
“I liked you from the beginning, even though you thought my drawing of a cat was a monkey,” Mads said.
“You promised to answer a question for me that day, remember?” Stephen said.
Mads remembered. His mother called him St. Stephen the Serious, and Stephen wanted to know if the name fit.
“I wouldn't call you St. Stephen,” she said. “You are serious, but you're funny, too. You're good, but I bet you're no saint.”
She found herself drawing closer to him without knowing how it happened. She wasn't aware of moving her feet. She was pulled as if by tractor beam.
“You're right,” he said. “I'm not a saint. And I'll prove it to you right now.”
He bent down to her beaming face and kissed her. Mads got lost in that kiss. She forgot that she was standing in her backyard in plain sight her parents, Aunt Georgia, Uncle Skip, and all her friends.
Stephen straightened up and looked at the crowd behind her. “Whoops. Is that your mother?”
Mads turned around and flushed bright red. M.C. stared at her, a carrot stick frozen halfway to her open mouth. Uncle Skip snapped his fingers in front of M.C.’s face.
“Is she going to be okay?” Stephen asked.
“She'll get over it,” Mads said.
Stephen took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “Introduce me to her. Mothers usually like me.”
Mads caught people glancing at them as they walked hand-in-hand through the party. Lina and Holly looked surprised but happy. Even Sean cast a look her way. He nodded at Stephen and said, “Way to go, dude.”
Lina thought she'd better rescue Ramona, who'd been cornered by Aunt Georgia. Georgia was grilling Ramona on her makeup techniques. She wasn't wearing any makeup herself, but now that she was approaching fifty she was thinking she should start. “I always liked that crazy-lady look for old ladies,” Georgia said.
“Me, too.” Ramona nodded vigorously. “Lots of white powder, til
l the face is like a blank sheet of paper. Then draw your features on anyway you want. Those pointy black eyebrows and lots of lip liner. Like a silent film star, or a clown. And blue hair—really blue hair.”
“Exactly,” Georgia said. “I figure, if I'm going to get old, I might as well make a statement.”
“Totally,” Ramona agreed. “Like those aging Hollywood actresses. They're the coolest.”
Lina stood listening in bewilderment. This was a conversation she could not contribute to.
A bell rang in the kitchen. “That's another batch of quesadillas,” Georgia said. “I'll be right back.” She hurried into the house.
“What's the news from Beauregard?” Ramona asked.
“Not much,” Lina said. “The e-mails have started slowing down.” Since Larissa had told Beauregard that she was moving to India, he'd seemed to withdraw. Lina couldn't blame him. Especially after she'd stood him up, sick cat or not.
“Did he say anything about a new job?” Ramona asked.
“No,” Lina said. For once Ramona knew something she didn't. “Why?”
“Well, I was sitting outside Alvarado's office yesterday and I overheard his secretary say she heard a rumor that Dan was offered a job at another school next year.”
Lina's heart nearly stopped. “No! Where?”
“Don't know,” Ramona said.
“Is he moving away?”
Ramona shrugged. “I guess.”
“So he's leaving?”
“It's just a rumor. So far.”
But a believable rumor. Dan had made it clear to Larissa he wasn't happy with his job at RSAGE. Still, Lina was stunned. Somehow she'd thought he'd always be around—ready and waiting by the time she graduated.
“You know what this means, don't you?” Ramona said. “It's now or never. If one of us is going to make a move, we have to do it now. Before he slips away for good.”
For good. Lina couldn't believe she'd just passed up a chance to sit and have lunch with him alone. After this school year she might never see him again. When she was finally old enough to be with him, he will have forgotten all about her.
“We have to do something,” Ramona said. “Something more effective than casting spells on him.”
“I know,” Lina said. But what?
“Look,” Ramona said. “This is an emergency. No more secrets. Promise? The two of us have to work together from now on. Is it a deal?”
Lina saw the emotion on Ramona's face. Loving Dan was a kind of loneliness. It was like believing in something no one else could see. But Lina and Ramona had each other, and it would help.
“Yes,” Lina said. “The two of us together. It's a deal.”
“See anybody cute?” Holly asked Britta. If she was going to make a match for Britta, she needed to know what type of guy she liked.
“He's cute,” Britta said, pointing out Rob. “But he's clearly taken.”
Rob was wearing a t-shirt that said OLD UPHOLSTERERS NEVER DIE—THEY ALWAYS RECOVER. Holly shuddered. Not so much because of the t-shirt, but because he was sitting on the picnic table with Christie, who was feeding him a quesadilla. She was wearing a t-shirt, too. Hers said SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL UNDERTAKER—DROP DEAD!
It was bad enough that they never took their hands off each other. Now they were dressing alike, too? Holly thought she was going to be sick.
“Who's the melonhead?” Britta asked.
“Her name is Christie,” Holly said. “Rob's dating her.”
“That's Rob?” Britta said. “Your Rob?”
Holly nodded.
Britta watched while Christie fed Rob another bite of quesadilla. She kissed him between every bite. At first he seemed to like it. But by the fifth kiss he pulled back and said, “Christie, I haven't had a chance to swallow yet.”
Ha, Holly thought. She remembered the way Rob used to kiss her constantly and how it annoyed her sometimes.
Christie straightened up in a huff. But then she handed Rob his drink and wrapped her arms around him, cooing.
“This is so repulsive,” Britta said.
“I know,” Holly said. “They're always all over each other like that.”
Rob tried to put his drink down on the picnic table, but it was hard with Christie holding him so tight. “Christie,” he said, “could you let go for one second? I want to set my cup down.”
“You didn't say ‘pretty please, honey pie.’” Christie kissed him on the ear, then on the cheek.
“Pretty please, honey pie,” Rob said. Holly could hear the irritation in his voice. Hmm, this was getting interesting.
Christie released him. He stood up and stretched. Then she put her arm around him and stuck it in his back pocket.
“There's Laura,” Christie said, pointing out one of her friends. “Let's go talk to her.”
“I'll catch up with you later,” Rob said. “I'm going to see what Walker's up to.”
“No,” Christie said. “Stay with me. Come on, Robby-bobby.”
Rob took her hand out of his pocket. “Christie, it won't kill you to spend ten minutes talking to your friends without me. We haven't been surgically attached—yet.”
Whoa. Look at Rob—standing up for himself!
“About time he said something,” Britta said.
Christie gaped at him in surprise. “My friends were right about you!” she squeaked. “You're not affectionate enough! You might as well be made of metal! You don't love me!”
She ran across the yard to her friend Laura. Rob watched her, looking baffled.
“This is so weird,” Holly said to Britta. “I dumped him partly because he was too affectionate. He likes to kiss every five minutes. I can't believe it's not enough for her!”
Rob shook his head and sat down on the bench. Then he spotted Holly. He gave her a little smile and a wave.
Look at him, she thought. So cute. She didn't care about his silly t-shirts—those had nothing to do with the warm person he was inside. And he didn't have to wear them—it wasn't as if they were tattooed on his chest. Anyway, he'd probably grow out of them soon.
“Go over to him,” Britta said. “He wants you to.”
Holly was nervous. After all, the last time she'd confronted him he said he didn't want her back. And it had crushed her. But he was worth risking another try. She walked over and sat beside him on the picnic table.
“You know what, Holly?” he said. “I think I understand how you felt when we were together. Like we had a little too much of a good thing?”
“But it was a good thing,” Holly said. “I hate your t-shirt, by the way.”
Rob laughed. “It's one of my favorites. But I don't have to wear them all the time. I'm getting a little tired of them. Christie really likes them.”
“Really? She seems like such a paragon of taste.”
“I can't take her anymore,” Rob said. “No matter how nice I am to her, it's never enough.”
“She's crazy,” Holly said. “You're the sweetest, most affectionate guy I know.”
Rob gazed into her eyes. He still liked her—she could feel it. He always did have a thing for her eyes.
“Christie's always demanding more,” he said. “But I never had that problem with you. You never took advantage of me and you always told me how you felt.”
“But I was too picky,” Holly said. “All those little things that bugged me were so silly. What I really care about is the real you—the guy who knows how to make me feel better when I'm sad. The guy who makes happy times happier…”
She kissed him. He put his arms around her.
“I want my Holly back,” he murmured. “The Anti-Christie.”
A scream emanated from across the yard. The crowd parted, as Christie raced over to Rob and Holly.
“What are you doing?” Christie shrieked. “Why are you kissing her?”
“Christie, I'm sorry—” Rob began.
“You're horrible!” Christie cried. She picked up a handful of tortilla chips and pelted him with the
m. That didn't have much impact, so she gave up and dumped the whole bowl on his head. Then she ran away in tears.
Holly took the bowl off Rob's head and helped him brush the chips off. The party went quiet.
“Well,” Holly said. “That was awkward.”
“I didn't want to upset her like that,” Rob said. “I probably should have found a nicer way to break up with her.”
“She started it,” Holly said. “She accused you of being made of metal.”
Mads and Lina came running over. “Is everything okay?” Mads asked. “What happened to Christie?”
Rob put his arm around Holly, and she leaned against him, feeling happy. People started talking again, the music blared, and the party went back to normal.
“Hey,” Lina said. “Are you two back together?”
Holly glanced at Rob. “Yes,” he said. “We're back.”
“Yay! Rob and Holly are back!” Mads cheered.
“We always thought you guys should be together,” Lina said.
“It was just a temporary setback,” Rob said.
“Hey, Mads,” Holly said. “I just thought of another quiz topic. ‘Was Your Party a Hit or a Flop?’”
“I like it,” Mads said.
“Give yourself a point for every time you answer yes to one of these questions,” Holly said. “Question One: Were the coolest kids in school there?”
“Yes,” Mads said.
“Question Two: Did any new couples get together?” Holly asked.
“Yes,” Lina said. “Mads and Stephen!”
Mads grinned and waved at Stephen, who was stuck talking to her father. “The Overlord loves him already.”
“Question Three: Did the neighbors complain about the noise?” Holly asked.
Mads beamed. “Yes! We already got an angry call from the Zieglers.”
“Question Four: Was there a fight?” Holly said. “Did at least one person leave in tears?”
“Yes and yes,” Mads said.
“Well, Mads,” Holly said, “looks like your party is a big hit!”
“And it's not even over yet,” Mads said. “Maybe the police will come! People would talk about that for weeks.”
“We can only hope,” Holly said.