11 Birthdays

Chapter Six

This has got to be the itchiest dress I've ever had the misfortune of wearing. And the red shoes are so tight I can't feel my toes. I hobble into my parents' room.
        "Is it too late to cancel the party?" I demand.
        Mom's sitting at her vanity table brushing her hair. "What, honey? Yes, of course it's too late to cancel the party. Your friends will be here in fifteen minutes.
        I sigh and sit on the edge of her bed "I just wish we could have done something, I don't know, smaller. Like a slumber party or something."
        She puts down her brush. "Then why didn't you say that when I asked what you wanted to do?"
        I shrug. "I dunno."
        But I do know. I didn't want to seem lame. Like Leo would have a big party and I wouldn't, and everyone would be talking about it.
        "It'll be fine," Mom says. She leans over and straightens my collar. "And you look adorable."
        I shake my head sadly. "I don't."
        "You do," she insists. "Ask your father."
        "You look great," a rumbly voice wheezes from behind me. I jump up and whirl around. The unmoving lump in the bed that I thought was pillows is my father!
        "Dad?"
        "Youngest daughter? Is that you?" He reaches a shaky hand out from the covers. "Come closer in case this is the last time I see you."
        Mom laughs. "Honestly, Stuart. You're the worst sick person I've ever known."
        Dad coughs and says, "You'll regret saying that when I'm gone."
        Mom rolls her eyes.
        "Hey, how did the presentation go?" I asked her. 
        Mom's smile fades instantly. "Not my best," she admits. "You better go do your hair, it's almost seven."
        My had reaches up instinctively. "I did do my hair."
        "Oh," she says.
        "Have fun tonight," Dad croaks.
        I frown. "I'm not promising anything."
        I run into Kylie in the hall. She's dresses as the Little Mermaid. I try to swallow the jealousy at how pretty her costume is, but it's hard.
        "Happy birthday," she says.
        Finally!
        "Thanks," I mutter. "I hate my costume."
        She looks me up and down. "Yeah, it's pretty bad."
        "Gee, thanks! Way to make me feel better."
        "Why did you pick it then?" she asks, adjusting her long red wig.
        "I didn't pick it. Mom did."
        "Look at it this way, at least you don't have to worry about anyone else dressing like Alice in Wonderland!"
        "I'm not Alice in Wonderland!"
        She wrinkles her brows. "Who are you then?"
        I hold up the wicker picnic basket. "I'm Dorothy? From The Wizard of Oz?"
        She snaps her fingers. "That's right! I see it now. I used to love that movie."
        Figures.

.............................................................................................

        The guests start arriving a few minutes after seven. This Disney princesses are well-represented. The boys seem to be either Freddy Krueger from the Nightmare on Elm Street movies or baseball players from Field of Dreams. Two girls are wearing Fiona costumes I had wanted and I eye them with jealousy. Tracy and Emma are Oompa-Loompas. They look amazing in the white overalls, brown T-shirts, and orange faces. Plus, I think most of Emma's outfit is edible. She pulls a Hershey's Kiss off her belt and presses it into my hand. Two girls from fifth period English are dressed as characters from the movie version of Hamlet that we watched in class last month. Stephanie is an elf with pointy ears and a long silvery cape.
        "What movie are you from?" I ask, taking the gift bag from her hands.
        "Lord of the Rings. I'm Arwen."
        "You look great," I tell her, even though I've never seen the movie. Mom said it's too violent for me. I would argue, but after being terrified by a Spongebob balloon, I'm pretty sure she's right.
        Dad insisted on dragging himself out of bed and manning the CD player, which really could just man itself. He's wearing the cowboy costume Mom rented for him. Every few minutes, he has a sneezing fit and his hat flies off and everyone in the room stops talking. It's highly embarrassing. Mom is wearing a Cruella de Vil outfit. She looks good in black. She keeps answering her cell phone though, and it's getting annoying. I understand she has a really important job, but what could be so important on a Friday night? During your daughter's birthday party?
        Dad spent a lot of time burning CDs of movie theme songs, but they're not really danceable. Everyone's mostly standing around eating chips and M&M'S. After what feels like an eternity of making small talk, I glance up at the clock. It's almost 8:00, and half the people aren't here. Only three of the boys I invited have shown up. Dad was supposed to organize the games, but he's sitting down on the couch, a glazed expression on his pale face. Kylie disappeared long ago.
        I pull Stephanie aside and whisper, "Where is everyone?"
        She looks around the room uneasily. "I'm not sure."
        I have the feeling she knows more than she's saying. I squeeze her arm. Hard.
        "Okay, okay. I think they went to Leo's party instead."
        I release my grip. "Oh."
"On top of everything else, he supposedly has some big football player there. You know, giving tips on throwing and stuff."
        My head swims with this new information.
        "Um, Amanda?"
        I don't answer.
        "Um, would you mind a ton if I went, too?  Just for a little while? I'll come back, I promise."
        At first I think she's kidding. "But you don't even like football."
        She looks down at the carpet. "It's just that Mena and Heather and Jess and the rest of the girls who made the gymnastics team are there, and if I don't go it wouldn't look good. I want them to know I'm a team player. You know how it is."
        "I guess so," I say, hoping my voice doesn't crack, I just want to go upstairs and cry. I tug hard at my collar, which is so scratchy it made my neck red and blotchy. I want to ask since when is Leo friends with those girls, but I don't really want to know."
        Stephanie gives me a quick hug and slips out just before Mom brings out my cake. I make the same wish I made at lunch over the cupcake. I wish I had never walked by Leo's room that night. I wish so hard I almost fool myself into believing that when I open my eyes, all this will be gone and Leo and I will be in the middle of one of our great parties, where no one had to pretend to be having fun.
        Nope.
        The party drags on until finally the parents start arriving. I pray that Mom doesn't invite them in for cake, and thankfully she doesn't. The basement quickly empties. Struggling to choke back the tears, I toss the used plastic cups into the garbage, one by one. Even the table piled with presents can't cheer me up. Although there really are a lot of presents considering only eight kids showed up. I loft up the cards. One after another are names of kids I invited but didn't show up. At least I thought they hadn't shown up. That's weird.
        Mom's voice wafts down the stairs toward me. She's on the phone, as usual. "No, I haven't told Amanda yet. I didn't want to ruin her party." She reaches the bottom of the stairs and catches sight of me standing by the gifts. She backs up half a step, looking surprised. "I'll call you back later," she says, closing her cell.
        "What was that about?" I ask, sinking into the couch.
        She sits down next to me and takes a deep breath. "I was fired tonight."
        It take a few seconds for her words to sink in. I sit up straight. "Fired? You? Can they do that?"
        "They can and they did.
        "But why?"
        She sighs. "It's complicated. I lost a very important account this morning. I knew a lot was riding on this one."
        "They didn't like your ideas? But you always have good ideas." I pull at my collar again. "Except maybe for this costume!"
        The sides of her mouth curl up, but she quickly frowns again. "They didn't get to see my ideas. I spent weeks working on the mock-up for the campaign, but I left it home. There wasn't time to redo it."
        She shakes her head sadly. "No, what I had was your sister's science project. If the client had wanted to learn how a solid turns into a gas, I'd have been all set." She starts to laugh, but not a happy laugh. "Enough about me. I'll find another job, not to worry," she says with finality. "So, did you enjoy your party?"
        I open my mouth to answer, but don't know what to say. She already feels bad enough, I don't want to add to it. So I just nod. I don't know if she believes me, but she doesn't press it.
        "You sure got a lot of gifts," she says, gesturing to the table. "They kept showing up all night."
        My eyes widen. "People just dropped them off at the door? And didn't even come in?"
        She hesitates, the presses her lips together, which is what she does when she doesn't want to answer. I can't believe this. "I'm going to go to bed now, okay?"
        "Don't you want to open them?"
        I shake my head. "I'll do it tomorrow." I hurry upstairs before she says anything else. The like is already off in Kylie's room, which is surprising since she's usually up IM-ing her friends at this time of night. I lock my door and kick off the shoes, which have given me blisters on both heels. I wrestle the dress to the ground, and kick it under my desk.
        I guess Stephanie;s not coming back tonight. I don't really want to talk to anyone anyway. I hope she had fun with her new gymnastics friends. No one in my family even asked me how tryouts went. I put on my most comfortable pajamas and climb into bed. Is this what every birthday from now on is going to be like? Even though I'm still mad at Leo, I hope he had a better time at his party than I had at mine.
        I switch off my lamp and close my eyes. At least tomorrow's Saturday and I won't have to deal with seeing everyone at school who blew off my party. I lie still, waiting for sleep to come. But something's not right. I switch my lamp back on, hop out of bed, and shut SpongeBob in the closet.
        Ah, that's better.