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Authors: Melissa de la Cruz

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BOOK: Birthday Vicious
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“Sure.” Ashley sighed, carefully slitting through the
packaging with the ceramic opener. Lili couldn't wait to see her face when she opened the box. Lauren may have collected the present from Neiman Marcus, but it was Lili's idea, and Lili was the one who'd called the store with specific instructions.

“You're going to love it,” Lauren told her.

Ashley peeled back the layers of marbled tissue paper, and her eyes widened.

“How . . . how
apropos
!” She reached her hands into the box and pulled out a golden helmet, the initial
A
picked out in crystals.

“It's for your Vespa!” A. A. cheered. They all knew exactly what Ashley was getting for her birthday.

“It's Chanel!” Lauren added. “Special order!”

“I love it,” said Ashley, holding it up to her face and smiling. Lili gave her a sidelong look: Ashley was certainly quite subdued tonight. Normally she had one of two reactions to a gift.

If she didn't like it—because it wasn't what she was expecting, or the item in question was no longer sufficiently “it,” or she'd just seen a picture of someone like Chauncey Raven, the beleaguered pop star who'd recently lost custody of her two kids, with the exact same thing—Ashley would usually make a pouty face, thank
them in a faint, pained voice, and put the present away in its box or bag immediately.

If she loved the gift—because it was what she'd told them to buy, or because she'd just seen a picture of someone like Sloan Hess, the way-too-hip and way-too-skinny British supermodel with the exact same thing—then she would shriek with joy and make sure the whole restaurant could see it. But tonight she was doing neither of these things. She was just acting like a normal person does when they get a gift. And this made Lili deeply, deeply suspicious. Something
had
to be going on.

“So what's the deal with all the party arrangements?” A. A. asked, after Ashley had finally stowed the helmet in its box under her seat and a platter with an extra-long dragon roll (made with thirteen ingredients, as Lauren took pains to point out) had been placed on the table between them.

“Oh, you know,” said Ashley, blithely gesturing with her chopsticks. “Mona Mazur is taking care of pretty much everything.”

“What have you decided about the unicyclists' costumes?” Lauren asked. They'd discussed this at length just a few lunchtimes ago, but Lauren had missed the whole conversation: She'd felt faint on the way into the refectory
and had to spend lunchtime lying in a darkened room in the sick bay. Just another lunchtime powwow she'd missed that week. No wonder she was so behind the curve.

“Oh, you know. Whatever.” Ashley nibbled at the piece of dragon roll squished between her chopsticks. “I've been meaning to tell you all—I met the cutest boy down at the marina yesterday after school. His name is Cooper, and he's totally adorable. And he was totally into me!”

“Did you invite him to the party?” A. A. wanted to know.

Ashley nodded. “Uh-huh. And he's tall, so much taller than Tri.”

“That wouldn't be hard.” A. A. snorted.

“How old is he?” Lauren took a giant bite of dragon roll, half the rice spilling onto the tablecloth.

“He looks like he's our age. I forgot to ask him which school he goes to—duh!”

Lili toyed with the food on her square black plate, expertly lifting a stray slice of ginger with her chopsticks. Ashley was gushing on about this new guy but seemed very reluctant to talk about the party, which was unlike her. That wasn't the only uncharacteristic trait she was displaying that evening.

“What do you think?” Ashley asked, showing them a sample of the party invitations. She didn't meet Lili's eyes as she held up the piece of paper.

“They're so cute!” said Lili, trying to hide her surprise. She was telling the truth: The invitations were chic—very graphic and fifties, with silhouetted figures dancing around an old record player. She noticed that Ashley had bought them from Kate's Paperie, and the cards were made from beautiful textured paper with embossed seals for each envelope.

Ashley had fantastic taste—nobody could ever dispute that. But considering all the over-the-top plans for the party Ashley had been talking about for the last two weeks, Lili thought the invitations would be much more special. She was expecting something amazing and custom-made, not a box of ready-made cards. They didn't even have a circus theme!

“So what are the StripHall Queens like?” Lauren asked, taking a sip from her citrusy “gin and tonic” (the gin a dash of ginger ale). “Did you get to meet them yet?”

“And is Cirque du Soleil going to perform ‘Zumanity' or ‘O'?” A. A. wanted to know.

Ashley looked momentarily flustered, but before she could answer their questions, all the lights in the restaurant
went dark, and the speakers started playing a grand orchestral theme, interspersed with the StripHall Queens' latest hit, “Lick Me! Eat Me! I'm Your Cake!” A whizzing, sparkling, glittering confection was brought over to their table.

The cake was made up of a towering ball of pink cotton candy, decorated with thirteen sparklers. It looked like a gorgeous pink bomb. On cue, Lili led the Ashleys in their version of “Happy Birthday.” (“Happy Birthday to you. You belong at Nobu. With Taylor Swift, Lorde, and J-Law, too.”)

“Happy Birthday, pretty,” Lili said, reaching over to give Ashley a huge hug and kiss. Okay, so maybe she sometimes hated Ashley a little bit for always having to be numero uno, even when certain blogs had decreed otherwise, but it was her birthday, and Ashley was still her best friend. When all was said and done, she loved the biatch.

“Make a wish!” A. A. urged, while Lauren took too many pictures with her digital camera.

Ashley closed her eyes and blew out the flames. When she opened her eyes, they were sparkling. “You guys are the best!”

Lili sighed. Ashley deserved everything that was coming to her.

9
THAT'S THE PROBLEM WITH OLD FRIENDS: THEY WANT TO DO THE SAME OLD THINGS

LAUREN LOOKED OVER HER SHOULDER
. Ever since Sadie had come back to Miss Gamble's, she'd been developing neck strain from looking around all the time to watch out for the Ashleys. School had let out for the day, and Sadie had insisted they hang out after school like they'd always done before. Sadie wanted to see the famous Page mansion and wouldn't take any of Lauren's excuses.

Bad luck for Lauren: It was the very day the Ashleys were planning a huge shopping trip to prepare for Ashley's party. Try as she might, Lauren couldn't dissuade her old friend, so she'd begged off the retail rampage by saying her mom wanted her to come home and help choose a color scheme for the new wing.

Of course, so that she wouldn't blow her cover with the Ashleys, she had to get Sadie in the car, and out of sight, as soon as possible. Now where was Dex? You'd think some guy who didn't have much to do other than drive her around would be on time for once.

Lauren craned her neck toward the street, willing the Bentley to appear, and then stretched the opposite direction at the school gates to watch out for the Ashleys again.

“Why do you keep looking over there?” Sadie asked.

Lauren didn't answer, feeling a cold stab of fear when she saw a glint of Ashley's new Cartier bracelet in the sun. The three girls were walking past the playground and would be right at the front gates in a second. She'd be caught with Sadie! If only—

“Dex!”

The silver Bentley crested the hill, and Lauren grabbed Sadie's hand and led her to the car. She bundled Sadie into the backseat just as the Ashleys appeared. Lauren slammed the door. “Let's go!”

“What's the rush?” Dex asked, annoyed. “Easy on the hardware, okay, Page?”

If Sadie was annoyed at being rushed inside the car, she didn't show it. She was too busy staring at Dex.
If possible, Dex was even cuter when he frowned. He wasn't Lauren's type in any way—he was way too old and too much of a brother figure for anything like
that
to come into play—but she could see the effect he had on everyone else she knew.

She suspected A. A. had had a major crush on him earlier this semester. Guinevere Parker had even asked Lauren if she could interview him for the school newspaper, part of some bogus feature on parking issues during rush hour in Nob Hill.

“Who is he?” Sadie whispered, pinching Lauren. “He's gorgeous!”

Lauren rolled her eyes, noticing how Sadie was staring at Dex almost as if she were hypnotized. “Dex, this is my friend Sadie. Sadie, this is Dex. He's my driver. And my father's intern, computer genius . . . whatever.”

“Hey, sexy Sadie,” Dex teased from the front seat, making Sadie squirm with delight.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Sadie asked, when they'd arrived at the Pages' house and exited the car.

“Um, yes. And she's, like, ten years older than us,” Lauren told her. She was a little annoyed at Sadie for insisting that they hang out on today of all days. Hadn't Lauren given up sitting at the most important table at
lunch every day just for her? Sure, Sadie didn't know that, but the fact didn't make Lauren any less grumpy.

Hanging out with Sadie was just like before. But Lauren was twelve now, not nine. She didn't want to do all those things they used to do. Lauren thought longingly of the shopping trip she was currently missing. So maybe the whole time Ashley would hog all the best clothes and monopolize the salesclerks, but they were sure to all get coordinated outfits for the party, and she would be left out again.

Oh well. Too late now. This afternoon was all about Sadie.

“Sadie! Welcome back!” Trudy Page stood at the front double doors, a glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice in each hand. It would have been better if Lauren's mother hadn't coordinated her Cavalli outfit to match the pomegranate juice, because Sadie looked a little afraid of the vision in bright red waiting for them when they walked up the stone slab steps.

Not for the first time since she'd been allowed to join the Ashleys, Lauren felt an unwelcome twinge of embarrassment about her mother's fashion sense, followed by a flood of guilt. Her mother meant so well and only wanted Lauren to be happy. Trudy just hadn't gotten
over the thrill of being super rich yet; it wasn't her fault, really. All she needed was a few friends like the Ashleys to get her on track and tell her what not to buy.

Oops. Did Lauren actually think of the Ashleys as her friends? This double-agent thing was getting a little more complicated than she'd thought.

“Sweetie, it's so good to see you again,” Trudy said, ushering an openmouthed Sadie into their vast, airy house. It was all giant panes of glass and minimalist midcentury modern furniture in front, but Mediterranean-style in the back, complete with a pillared courtyard, where the house faced the city's most exclusive marina.

Sergei, her ex-academic father, had requested a traditional den-slash-library, and her mother had the brainwave of decorating it like a Scottish baronial lodge, using old (i.e., last season's) beige Burberry trenches for the curtains and disks cut from two-hundred-year-old Scotch bottles to build a stained-glass coffee table. But Lauren's favorite room was the chill-out zone at the top of the house, just beneath the helipad, where the walls were white, the only furniture was oversize chocolate leather beanbags, and the controls for the Bose stereo system were hidden in the bleached ash floor planks.

She led her old friend along three of the house's long, slate-floored corridors to her bedroom, Sadie trailing behind like an eager puppy.

“I've never seen a house like this,” Sadie gushed, her green plaid uniform looking more awkward and ill-fitting than ever. Really, Sadie was as awkward and ill-fitting as her clothes. “You guys really hit it big!”

Lauren cringed a little and wished Sadie wasn't so blunt.

Sadie wandered around Lauren's two-story bedroom with her pale blue eyes almost bulging out of her head. She plopped onto Lauren's king-size feather bed, bouncing up and down like a little kid and then springing up again to run over to the mirrored closets that lined the room's long back wall.

“It's like a . . . it's like a palace!” she squealed, gazing at her reflection in one of the mirrored doors. “What's upstairs?”

“Oh, just . . . you know.” Lauren shrugged. She liked her room and was still kind of amazed by it herself, but there was something seriously uncool about Sadie's kid-in-the-candy-store reaction.

“You could have a whole family living up here!” Sadie had clomped up the circular staircase to the loft
sleep-and-play area. “Omigod! You really could—there are, like, four beds up here!”

Lauren decided it wasn't time to tell Sadie about the all-Ashley sleepover earlier in the semester, the reason Trudy had had the four red-cedar bunks specially built. Anyway, Sadie was distracted by the matching cubbies packed with books, toys, and games.

“Can we play something? Do you have Monopoly?”

“No.” Lauren felt herself frowning. This wasn't good. Sadie was getting distracted by all the childish stuff. Why didn't she want to go through Lauren's closet, like any normal, self-respecting seventh grader? Maybe Sadie needed a nudge in the right direction. “Do you want to try on some of my shoes? I think we're around the same size, and I have, like, four dozen pairs. Some are still in their boxes.”

Sadie's face fell. “Can't we play some games? I hate shoe shopping. My mother has to
make
me go at the start of every school year, and I'm still getting over that.”

“I know—how about a spa makeover? You should see my bathroom.” Lauren headed off down the stairs, hoping Sadie would follow.

Her phone began to buzz. Lauren picked it up hopefully.
Maybe one of the Ashleys had some juicy gossip. Maybe Lili was calling to dish about why Ashley was being oh-so-mysterious about her party, or A. A. was calling to complain about Lili's crazy camping plan. Maybe it was Ashley herself, calling to thank Lauren, yet again, for picking up the fabulous gift.

BOOK: Birthday Vicious
2.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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