Populazzi (36 page)

As always, she was brilliant. She kissed up to Karl like crazy and assured him over and over that she would personally guarantee I got enough sleep and made it home bright and early Sunday to get ready for the lunch. She even used the NFL to help make her case. Most teams rarely practiced hard the day before a big game, she said. They busted their butts all week but pared it back the day before, to make sure all the players were healthy and rested when they needed it most. If I stayed home and stressed both nights before my interview, I might psych myself out and freeze up in front of Dean Jaffe. But if I spent those days relaxing at Trista's, I'd be fresh, calm, and ready for anything. This was my Super Bowl, and if Karl let me prep for it with a weekend at Trista's, I'd not only win it, I'd even beat the spread.

Bringing in both football
and
gambling was pure genius. Karl couldn't resist. He gave his permission, but I considered it tenuous at best. It was vital that I give him no reason whatsoever to reconsider, so I didn't complain even as my semigrounding started to make me crazy.

My cell rang and I checked the caller ID: Claudia. It was a week before my party, and I was trying to slog my way through a novel. Once upon a time, huddling in my room with a book would have been a near-perfect Saturday night, but now I couldn't even concentrate—I was too tortured imagining Trista and the gang out dancing without me. Talking to Claudia would be the perfect distraction.

"Know what the problem is with finally getting a life?" I asked as I answered the phone. "You totally miss it when it's gone."

Silence. Then, "You're having a party?"

My brain whirled. How did she know?

I raced to my computer, surfed to Facebook, and scanned my wall. Trista must have had everyone post before they went out tonight. It started with Trista's "
Miz Hostess—Countdown 1 week 2 MEGA-CHIW par-tay! Super LA need not apply!
"Then Kristie weighed in: "
Hey C—LMK if U need help setting up. So X-ited!
" Ree-Ree and Gemma came next, and all their postings inspired others to write about their own excitement, most likely to prove to the Facebook-sphere how cool they were to merit an invitation.

This was not supposed to happen. The party had its own event page.
That's
where everyone had been commenting, not on my wall where Claudia could see it!

"Cara?"

She sounded so small and uncertain. It was completely unlike her. I felt horrible.

"Yeah ... I'm having a party."

"And you weren't going to invite me?"

"I wanted to invite you. It's just ... Marsh and Ree-Ree..."

"You told me about Marsh and Ree-Ree. I know they're together now. You know I know that."

I felt my rib cage squeezing in on my heart and lungs. I had no idea how to explain this without telling Claudia what I'd revealed about her and how I'd lied about Marsh and Ree-Ree getting together
after
Eddie's party. I felt sick to my stomach imagining how she'd react, and even though I knew I deserved her anger, it didn't make me any more eager for it.

Then suddenly I realized I had a way out. I could tell Claudia a
half
truth, one that wouldn't hurt her feelings as much ... and maybe wouldn't make me quite so despicable.

"It's not you, Claude. It's Ree-Ree. She's crazy jealous. If she saw you and Marsh and got even the vaguest idea that you were ever together, she'd go nuclear. Party-destroying nuclear. And the party is supposed to take me from Penultimate to Supreme Populazzi, so if the party's destroyed—"

"Wait—you're saying you were keeping the party from me for the sake of the Ladder?"

"Yes."

My ribs were closing in tighter. Would she believe me?

"Well, that's madness," she said. "After all the work we've done, do you seriously think I'd
ever
get in the way of the Ladder? Don't you know me better than that?"

"I do! But I also know you'd love to come to the party, so I figured if you didn't know about it, you wouldn't have to feel bad about not going."

"Why wouldn't I go?" Claudia asked.

Um—wasn't that what we were just talking about?

"Because..." I floundered, "you just said you wouldn't want to get in the way of the Ladder ... and Ree-Ree seeing you
would
get in the way ... or it
could...
"

"Only if Ree-Ree suspected Marsh and I had a thing," Claudia said, "which she won't."

"She won't?"

"No. Not if I pretend Marsh and I have never met."

"But..." My brain spun with a million contradictions before I truly took in what she meant. "You really ... you would do that?"

"Of course! If I act like I don't know him, Ree-Ree can't get jealous. She never saw me at the other party, she has no idea who I am ... she'd never even suspect. I don't have to say a word to Marsh. Or her. I won't even
look
at either one of them. No interaction, no jealousy, no danger to the Ladder."

And no chance Marsh or Ree-Ree would say something to Claudia that I didn't want her to hear. I was still running her solution around my brain at hyperspeed to look for holes, but I found only one. "You're sure you'll be able to stay away from him?" I asked.

"Cara ... a little credit. It's not like I was in love with Marsh—we hung out one night, and that was months ago. I'm pretty sure I can find other things to do than moon over him and bother his jealous girlfriend. I don't know if you're aware, but I have a history of great success at Populazzi parties."

My rib cage finally unclenched as I laughed out loud. "Yeah, you do."

"So how did you get Karl to let you have the party at the house? Aren't you practically grounded?"

"Um ... the party's not here. It's at my dad's house."

"What? The Sperm Donor? And the Bar Wench? How have you not been telling me about this! I'm shutting up now. You're spilling. I want to know everything!"

Claudia and I talked for hours, and I filled her in on the whole story of the party, beginning to end. I even sent her the Facebook event page link so she could check out the invitation and guest list. Though Claudia still thought it was crazy that I hadn't told her everything immediately, she understood my motivation. She agreed that the party was the perfect way for Trista and me to publicly switch places, but it had to go off without a hitch. If all went well, I'd be seen as Supreme Populazzi by the time it was over, with Trista simply my highest-ranking Penultimate.

I felt great about the plan. To be honest, it was already working. The party was all anyone was talking about at school. And whenever someone would ask Trista about it, she'd say something like "I really don't know. You'd have to talk to Cara—this one's all her. It's going to be epic, though. I wouldn't miss it for anything." Ree-Ree, Kristie, and Gemma, who was back from her latest tournament, said similar things.

It's not that they knew about the master plan—they didn't—but they did know I was planning a party that would put every other event of the year to shame. Everyone knew it, and people looked at me with newfound respect and admiration. My guest list determined who was
someone.
Everyone wanted to be my friend. Even senior class Populazzi went out of their way to talk to me.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't worried about what to say. The party was on my mind 24/7. I was constantly talking to Trista to compile lists of everything I needed: all the right music, food, and decorations. I spent every day between the end of school and dinnertime racing around to buy supplies. I paid for it all with my credit card—I'd find an explanation for Karl later. I stayed up late every night burning CDs and making iPod playlists. In my head I staged every square inch of Dad's house and choreographed every second of the party the way I wanted it to unfold. I could make scintillating conversation about this party to
anyone,
and people always lit up at the sight of me, like they always had for Trista.

The party hadn't even happened yet, and already I felt like
that girl:
that beautiful, confident, charming girl I'd always admired but never dreamed I could be.

I was so close. I just needed to seal the deal.

Friday, the day before the party, I was so excited I could barely breathe. Not that there was time to be nervous: I had a zillion things to do and just over twenty-four hours to get it all done.

Thankfully, I had Claudia. She was as excited about the party as I was. She said in some ways, it felt like her ascension to Supreme Populazzi, too, and she wanted to be as involved as possible. This was a huge break for me, since Trista had recommended the Populazzi
not
be involved. That way, according to Trista, they'd be as surprised by the finished place as anyone, and it would be clearer even to them that the party was mine alone. I saw her point, but without Claudia's help, there's no way I could have managed it all.

I raced home after school and got my stuff together. The trunk of my car was already packed with decorations I'd amassed over the past couple weeks, but I had several more bags of stuff, all of which I'd tucked inside suitcases stored in the garage so Karl and Mom wouldn't see. I loaded the bags into my back seat, then took a trip inside to grab my clothes, makeup, and all the other personal things I'd need. Once I'd checked and rechecked to make sure I hadn't left anything out, I ducked back in to say goodbye.

"Tell Trista happy birthday for us," Mom said. "I will."

"Get a good night's sleep tomorrow," Karl added. "And make sure you're home by eleven Sunday morning. Dean Jaffe's coming at noon and I want you here and ready."

"Got it. That'll be great."

"It better be," Karl said. "You need to put on the show of your life to make up for your grades last semester."

"I will. I totally will."

I could tell by Karl's face that I could've been more enthusiastic, but my mind was halfway out the door, and I was dying to follow it. I called out a last goodbye, then raced to the car and drove to Wegmans, where I was meeting Claudia.

The plan was to get all the food and drinks for the party, load them into Claudia's car, then caravan to Dad's. He had arranged for his whole family to be away for the weekend, so Claudia and I would have all night and all day tomorrow to prepare.

Claudia couldn't get over the fact that she was going to see my dad. She vaguely remembered meeting him at my sixth birthday party, but that was it. And she had
never
seen the Bar Wench. We couldn't stop talking about it at Wegmans, and we were still at it as we walked up to his front door with our first armfuls of party food.

"What if I think your dad's cute, too?" Claudia asked after we rang the bell. "Wouldn't it be wrong?"

"And weirdly incestuous."

"Very Greek drama. Somebody'd have to poke their eyes out for sure. But who?"

That's when the Bar Wench opened the door. Awesome.

"Hello, ladies," she said. The Bar Wench was the same age as my dad, but her skin looked more sun-dried and weathered. She tried to hide that with thick foundation, but it pooled in the tiny cracks around her eyes, making the fissures more pronounced than they would have been otherwise. She wore her dyed black hair in a pixie cut that had probably been very sexy when she was in her early twenties, but now it just seemed mannish. She wasn't dressed yet—she wore slippers and a royal blue silk bathrobe.

With no small amount of bitterness, she told us she had arranged full-weekend sleepovers for both her boys, and she and Dad would be heading down the shore. They'd all be back late Sunday afternoon, and she expected to find the house in the same condition it was in right now. That said, she retreated upstairs. She never once attempted to make any kind of physical contact with me, and she never introduced herself to Claudia.

"She must know she's world-renowned as the Bar Wench," Claudia explained. "It's like being Mick Jagger; it's superfluous to introduce yourself."

An hour later, we'd unloaded both our cars and managed to get everything we needed into the fridge, when we heard my dad jogging down the stairs.

"Cair, baby? That you down there?"

" 'Cair, baby '?" Claudia whispered. "What is he, a lounge act?"

Pretty close. At least he looked the part in his white suit with the black silk shirt.

"Aha!" He pointed at Claudia. "The braids! You had those ten years ago.
You
are
Claudia!
"

"Did you really recognize the braids," Claudia asked, "or is it that you knew I was coming?"

"Little of each," Dad said. Then he beckoned for us to lean in close. "I left a surprise for you in the hall closet. Lise doesn't have to know." He put his fingers to his lips as the Bar Wench clip-clopped downstairs, wearing a pantsuit that clung a little too tightly to her middle.

"Have fun tomorrow," Dad said. "Make sure you tell people they can crash here if they're too drunk to drive."

"But
downstairs.
Everything needs to stay
downstairs
," the Bar Wench added. Dad laughed as he led her out of the house, urging her not to worry. The last thing we heard her mutter before the door closed was "...hate the thought of those kids getting into my underwear drawer..."

"I'm getting into her underwear drawer right now," I said.

"Totally. What do you think the surprise is?"

We ran to the closet. All the way in the back was a full keg on a small rolling dolly, and it had a note taped to it that said, "Have fun! Love, Dad."

"Oh my God, I kind of love Leonard Leonard," Claudia said.

"It's pretty cool," I agreed, even as I heard Mom's voice in my head railing over what kind of parent would possibly think it was okay to provide a keg of beer for an underage party.

Claudia and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning prepping the house per Trista's guidelines. We put out tea candles; we strung miles of white twinkle lights; we put colored gels over bulbs. We made sure every room would have music, either a stereo playing CDs or a speaker dock hooked to an iPod. We tested every connection to make sure everything worked. We rolled the keg from the closet to the kitchen. We put tiki torches out on the massive back porch and made sure they were filled with fluid. We put out lighters so we wouldn't have to look for them when it was time to light the torches and candles. We put out extra chairs so people could hang outside and look at the lake beyond Dad's backyard. We pushed back furniture in the living room to create a dance area. We checked all the supplies in the bathrooms. We made a timeline and a checklist for everything we needed to do the next day: set out snacks, drinks, ice, cups, utensils, napkins; order pizzas; and of course get gorgeous.