Glitter Girl (3 page)

“Duh. Of course I'll be there. But I'm not eating any rats on a spit,” joked Kat.

“You're so elitist,” joked Jules back at her.

“And I'm not turning off my cell phone,” said Kat.

“Will you at least put it on vibrate?”

“Okay. But that's your birthday present from me.”

They both laughed as the car pulled up in front of Jules's house. The girls got out and Jules's dad said something about having to get back to the job site and seeing Jules later that evening. But Kat wasn't really listening. Instead, as the Prius pulled away, she stared open-mouthed toward Jules's large Craftsman-style home. But it wasn't the house that drew her attention. It was the totally hot-looking guy who was shooting hoops at the end of the driveway. He was tall and lanky, but very toned and tanned. His flop of brown hair swayed down over one eye but didn't seem to prevent him from hitting basket after basket. Nothing but net!

“Who is
that
?” whispered Kat to Jules.

Jules looked at Kat with disbelief. “Uh, that's Kyle. My brother. You've known him since before you could tie your shoes.”

“Wow. Really? I haven't seen him all summer and he looks so, so different,” marveled Kat.

“He still looks like the same annoying jock boy to me, except tanner,” shrugged Jules.

“And buffer. And he's grown like three inches. Your parents weren't kidding around when they sent him to Atlanta to build those Houses for Humans that they're so into.”

“Habitat for Humanity. Yeah, Kyle was pretty annoyed since all he wanted to do all summer was practice so he could try out for the freshman basketball team. But Mom and Dad are real believers in giving back to the community. I've got plenty of causes, but they thought Kyle needed some focus. So when Dad volunteered labor from his company, he volunteered Kyle too. I guess the plus side of manual labor is the manual part. He did get in pretty good shape over the summer.”

“You're telling me!” said Kat.

“Uh. Yeah. Anyway, he's back now and I have to start sharing the remote again, which is a total drag,” groaned Jules. “I have to get to work on my sonnet. Call me if you can't figure out that geometry stuff.”

Kat watched as Jules walked up the driveway. She could hear Jules acknowledge her brother with a “Hey, loser” and him respond to her with a “How's it going, dweeb?” When Jules turned to wave good-bye to Kat just before disappearing into the house, Kyle turned too. And their eyes locked for an instant. Kyle smiled and gave Kat a nod.

Kat felt her face flush hot and red. She waved back and then turned quickly and hightailed it across the street to her own house.

She almost tripped as she tried to negotiate the stairs up to the entryway of her huge Tudor-style home in her strappy sandals with heels. But she caught herself and hoped against all hope that Kyle wasn't still watching. When she turned to look over her shoulder, she saw that he was. Embarrassed but also a little pleased, she managed to make it the rest of the way to the door without taking a header into the begonias.

As she did, her thoughts turned from Kyle and his floppy brown hair.

“Dad! Daddy! I'm home!” she yelled, the screen door slamming behind her.

Kat entered the house, depositing her backpack in the middle of the entryway. She heard her father's voice coming from the kitchen. She dashed past the new 4K TV in the living room and arrived out of breath in the kitchen to find her mom having a heart-to-heart discussion with…a computer?

Oh joy. Another Internet video date for her parents. On their anniversary, no less. Her heart sunk for her mom.

“…and make sure you call Angela Wilson to cancel my golf date with Gene on Saturday,” her father's digitized voice called out over the speakers of the computer. His image appeared in full-screen mode on her mom's laptop that she kept near the phone. Her dad continued, “That should give him plenty of time to find another partner. You know how Gene Wilson gets if he doesn't have anyone around to pretend he isn't cheating on his golf score.”

Kat's mom, Trudy, nodded, dutifully taking notes on a pad set out by the computer for just this purpose.

“Shall I reschedule with the Wilsons?” Trudy said in a voice that tried to hide the fact that she was terribly disappointed. Kat watched her mom with compassion. Her mom had gotten really good at acting like all these disappointments and postponements were no biggie, but for Kat, it was harder. And it hurt. She could barely even look at her dad's image on the screen.

“Hey!” Paul's voice brightened up, catching a glimpse of Kat as she came into view of the webcam. “Is that Kat? How you doing, kiddo? Is it that late already?”

“No, Daddy,” Kat said, summoning up a forced smile. “Remember today is the last Friday of the month, early dismissal day.”

“Since when?” Paul Connors stepped out of camera range for a moment, coming back with a necktie draped around his neck.

“Since forever,” Kat said. “Daddy, I thought you were coming home today.”

“I did too, honey, but circumstances didn't allow it.”

“What does that mean?” Kat said, doing a significantly worse job than her mom at hiding her disappointment.

“It means that Mr. Fujimora wants to go over the figures again with his team before he signs the contract,” said Paul, executing a perfect Windsor knot on his silk necktie. Kat recognized that tie; she had helped her mom pick it out for her dad's birthday. Well, for her dad's birthday
celebration
anyway. Her dad had been in Paris or Beijing or Timbuktu or some other foreign place on the actual birthday. But like many celebrations at the Connors house, that had to be “adjusted” to fit her dad's work schedule.

Kat tried not to mind. She knew that a big part of being an international businessman like her dad was the “international” part, but it seemed like the higher he moved up in the industry, the more he was needed in Lisbon or Rome or Tegucigalpa (wherever
that
was). For a while, Kat kept a map of all the different places her dad went on business, but she had run out of thumbtacks somewhere between Paris and Abu Dhabi, and she hadn't gotten around to getting any more at the drugstore. That map was in the attic now, gathering dust alongside her American Girl tea set.

Suddenly, Kat snapped out of her funk. “Holy cow!” she said, remembering the gift. “I almost forgot! I'll be right back!”

Kat bounded up the stairs toward her room to retrieve the one thing that might salvage the day a little. “Just a minute, just a minute, just a minute!” she yelled behind her. She ran past the master bedroom, the guest room, her mom's sewing room (although she never sewed anything, as far as Kat could tell), the second guest room, and finally arrived at her own bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Jules always said that there should be a snack shop or a vending machine on the way to Kat's bedroom so that weary travelers could rest up before they finished the final leg of their journey. But that was just Jules being Jules. Their house wasn't
that
much bigger than the other houses on the cul-de-sac. True, it
was
a bit on the roomy side for just three people, but her mom did like to have her friends over for cocktail parties and stuff, and there were lots of good nooks and crannies for hide-and-seeking during sleepovers, and it was the only home Kat had ever known, and besides, Jules's house wasn't much smaller.

Jules liked to play the part of nature girl, but when it came right down to it, she had as much stuff as everybody else in this part of town. Or so Kat told herself anyway, especially after one of Jules's many sermonettes on the dangers of not recycling or the carbon footprint being left by all the barbecue parties Kat's mom threw during the summer.

Kat zipped past the seldom-used desk, just now covered with the discards from this morning's fashion decisions, and dropped to her knees and began searching under the bed. She pushed past a couple of old teddy bears (Captain Cuddles wasn't lookin' so hot these days, she noted briefly), and…Eureka! There it was. She pulled the book out and looked at its handmade cover and note: “Kat's Annual Super-Duper Scrapbook of Memories.”

Every year for the last ten years, Kat had presented a scrapbook to her parents on their anniversary, filled with what had happened in the family the previous year. True, for the first few years, it had been pretty much her mom's deal, but little by little Kat had taken over the day-to-day operations of the family scrapbooking enterprise. Even though Trudy would never admit it, Kat thought that she'd improved on some of her mom's original ideas.

She ran back into the kitchen, book in hand, smiling broadly. “Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!” she said.

“Is that what I think it is?” said her father, peering into the webcam.

“It sure is!” said Kat cheerily.

“Well, hold it up to the screen so I can see it.”

As best they could, the family paged through the scrapbook, recalling all the events of the previous twelve months. There was the picture of Kat on one of her first days of school last year, when she was just getting to know the other kids at Willkie. (Paul had been in Kuala Lumpur then.) And there was Kat and her cousin Sophie standing outside the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota, on a shopping junket last fall. (Paul was in Dallas for that one.)

And another picture of Kat around Christmastime, when Paul was flying back from Shanghai. She was building a snowman outside the house with Jules. (“Snow citizen” is what Jules preferred to call it.) And was that Kyle all bundled up in the background with the snowblower? Even in that down jacket, he did look kind of hot back then too, come to think of it.

“Wow, Kat, this has got to be your best one yet!” Paul said.

“Well, remember it
was
Mom's idea. She started this whole tradition,” Kat said, giving her mom a peck on the cheek. Kat had noticed her mom had turned quiet as she and her dad were looking through the scrapbook.

“Awww heck,” said her dad, “what am I doing here? Kat's not the only one with a present. I've got something very special for my lovely wife.” Kat watched as her dad disappeared for a moment, and then he returned with…a pad and pen? Kat looked at her mother and noticed the fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes. He hadn't actually shopped for a present at all.

Here
we
go
again
, thought Kat.

“I'm writing down a number,” Paul said smiling. “And Trudy, I'm going to be very disappointed if I get home and you and your girlfriends haven't gone out to the spa and completely pampered yourselves and spent every last cent of it.” He held up the piece of paper to the webcam. Kat had to look at the number twice. Then she turned and looked at her mom, whose eyes went from disappointed to lighting up like two searchlights cutting through a foggy morning.

And
there
it
is, the buy-off. Gross.

“You're kidding, right?” said Trudy. “It's so, so extravagant!”

“Nothing less than you deserve,” said Paul, smiling. “You just call Wendy and the other girls and have some fun. Happy anniversary, honey.”

Kat's mom let loose such a high-pitched squeal of delight that Kat was sure owls from miles around would be swooping at their home any second now, looking for the wounded pack of field mice that had emitted such a sound.

There was a little more chitchat (very little, he had to get to an important meeting) where Kat dutifully said, “Yes, Daddy,” a few times when he pestered her about her grades. Then they said their good-byes.

• • •

She turned to her mom, who was already on her cell phone checking her calendar for an available date for her spa day. It irritated Kat. She contemplated telling her mom she shouldn't let her dad back out on her like that. It was their anniversary, for Pete's sake! But she knew her mom would give her “the speech”—the one about how hard her dad worked to give them this nice life and how there were kids who would be twice as happy with half as much. Besides, if her husband wanted to do something nice for her, who was a fourteen-year-old girl to tell her mother anything different anyway? Or words to that effect.

Instead Kat simply said, “Happy anniversary, Mom. I love you.” Her mom gave her a quick smile but didn't respond. She couldn't. She was on the phone with the spa, booking her anniversary gift.

• • •

Later, back in her room, Kat pushed the incident out of her mind, the same way she pushed the discarded clothes off her desk, and grabbed her own laptop. She had homework to do. Something about those triangles, she supposed. But she figured that could wait. Instead, she logged on to the Internet to check her IMs and email. A girl needs to have her priorities straight.

Let's see. A link to some online petition from Jules.
Whatever.
An embedded video of the
cutest
little puppies chasing a balloon around somebody's backyard.
Watch
that
later.
A couple of comments at her blog site thanking her for her article picking the cutest tops for fall.
My
pleasure.
An email from something called Glitter Girl declaring, “You're a winner!”
Probably
spam.
Finally, there was a pile of various other emails from friends who hadn't convinced their parents to give them unlimited texting yet.
Ho-hum.

As Kat logged on to her own blog site, girlstylepatrol.com, and thought about what to write for today's entry, she peered out the window across the cul-de-sac to Jules's house. Jules was sitting on the front steps reading a book (sonnets for Ms. Donovan, Kat assumed) while her mom sat one step above her and braided Jules's hair. Her mom was a busy lawyer for a nonprofit law firm downtown that helped low-income people with legal problems, but somehow she always managed to be home in time for dinner.

In the driveway, Kyle and his dad were engaged in a game of “Horse” or “Pig” or whatever you call that game when you have to make the shot that the guy before you just made. Jules's dad wasn't a great player, but Jules and her mom would clap loudly when he managed to get it in the basket. Mr. Finch played along by bowing extravagantly every time he made a shot and passing out high fives all around to his adoring fans on the stoop.

Kat smiled wistfully. It looked nice. It looked like a family.

Kat sighed for a moment, then turned away and started to type. And with every keystroke, her blues began slowly fading and turning into the loveliest shade of pink!

Tonight's topic: Let us all now praise fabulous accessories!