hanging wide open. I keep waiting for Claire to say, “Psych!” and this crazy story will be over. Claire has everything. Claire has parents caught up in their own love affair. “I’ve seen your parents. They’re crazy about each other.”
“Until things go wrong, then they’re just crazy. They turn on each other like two Dobermans set loose in a ring. The things they’ve said to each other . . .” She shakes her head, clutching the steering wheel. “I couldn’t even repeat it, and you know me, I’d say anything.”
“I feel horrible you’ve been keeping this all to yourself.”
“You’ve got enough troubles.”
“Bad fashion sense is hardly having your world ripped apart.”
“I don’t know, you do bad fashion sense pretty well.” She laughs.
“When’s your mom coming back?”
“I don’t know. She thinks my dad is there. He thinks she’s there, so neither one of them is in a hurry. Apparently they need to be apart for the separation to officially start, so they’re both sticking their feet in the sand. My mother more literally.”
“Aren’t they at least calling to check up on you?”
“Sure, but they ask how things are, I tell them fine, and that’s it.” Claire gets a twinkle in her eye. The one that always gets me into trouble. “So since they’re both gone and this is our senior year, I think we should throw a party. The kind of party that kids will talk about at our reunion.”
“A party? Claire, your mother isn’t going to stay in Hawaii forever.”
Claire shrugs.
“You have to tell her about Marisa so she knows you’re alone.”
“Do I?”
“What about your dad? We’ll never get away with this. We’re not the types to throw parties, remember? First off, who would come?”
“My dad’s doing a teaching stint at New York University. He won’t be back until after the holidays. If he comes back at all. My mom seems to think he’ll find a twentysomething student and won’t come back. In the meantime, she’s drowning herself in Botox and hot rock massages on a Hawaiian beach.”
“Your dad’s coming back. Stop that. You cannot stay home alone for over a month.”
“You know, I was thinking of a party where we invite everyone from school.”
“Forget about your parents, my father would kill us,” I say with the inflection of “duh” in my voice. “I have to tell them you’re here alone.”
“Don’t you dare! Daisy Crispin, if you tell your parents about mine, I’ll . . . think of something.”
Which is worse than if she’d come up with revenge on the fly. If Claire has time to think about it, there’s no telling what I’d be up against.
“Your dad would be upset, Daisy.” She taps her finger on her chin. “If he found out about it, Chase might have to find out who sent him those secret admirer roses every Valentine’s Day since fourth grade.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Worse yet, if your dad did find out, he’d come to school and put on a play about it. Do you really think you’re up for that kind of humiliation senior year?”
“Claire, if our friendship means anything to you, you cannot tell Chase a thing. I can’t take that kind of humiliation. I’m going to prom this year.”
“You? Going to prom?” Claire starts to cackle. “Why would you want to go to prom?”
“What are you, the wicked stepsister? Yes, me going to prom. Why is that so ridiculous? Most girls want to go to prom.”
“Sorry, I thought you were joking.” She slows to face me and puts her colorful beanie on her head. “A party would give you a chance to spend time with Chase. Real time. Not the kind where Amber walks in and projectile vomits on you, or whatever she’s going to do for attention. Because we wouldn’t invite her. In fact, we’d uninvite her.”
Suddenly I don’t feel so goody-two-shoes. Or even remotely perfectionist, except about the party planning.
“A party would make us matter. Think about it, Daisy. The pool house out back.
“Until things go wrong, then they’re just crazy. They turn on each other like two Dobermans set loose in a ring. The things they’ve said to each other . . .” She shakes her head, clutching the steering wheel. “I couldn’t even repeat it, and you know me, I’d say anything.”
“I feel horrible you’ve been keeping this all to yourself.”
“You’ve got enough troubles.”
“Bad fashion sense is hardly having your world ripped apart.”
“I don’t know, you do bad fashion sense pretty well.” She laughs.
“When’s your mom coming back?”
“I don’t know. She thinks my dad is there. He thinks she’s there, so neither one of them is in a hurry. Apparently they need to be apart for the separation to officially start, so they’re both sticking their feet in the sand. My mother more literally.”
“Aren’t they at least calling to check up on you?”
“Sure, but they ask how things are, I tell them fine, and that’s it.” Claire gets a twinkle in her eye. The one that always gets me into trouble. “So since they’re both gone and this is our senior year, I think we should throw a party. The kind of party that kids will talk about at our reunion.”
“A party? Claire, your mother isn’t going to stay in Hawaii forever.”
Claire shrugs.
“You have to tell her about Marisa so she knows you’re alone.”
“Do I?”
“What about your dad? We’ll never get away with this. We’re not the types to throw parties, remember? First off, who would come?”
“My dad’s doing a teaching stint at New York University. He won’t be back until after the holidays. If he comes back at all. My mom seems to think he’ll find a twentysomething student and won’t come back. In the meantime, she’s drowning herself in Botox and hot rock massages on a Hawaiian beach.”
“Your dad’s coming back. Stop that. You cannot stay home alone for over a month.”
“You know, I was thinking of a party where we invite everyone from school.”
“Forget about your parents, my father would kill us,” I say with the inflection of “duh” in my voice. “I have to tell them you’re here alone.”
“Don’t you dare! Daisy Crispin, if you tell your parents about mine, I’ll . . . think of something.”
Which is worse than if she’d come up with revenge on the fly. If Claire has time to think about it, there’s no telling what I’d be up against.
“Your dad would be upset, Daisy.” She taps her finger on her chin. “If he found out about it, Chase might have to find out who sent him those secret admirer roses every Valentine’s Day since fourth grade.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Worse yet, if your dad did find out, he’d come to school and put on a play about it. Do you really think you’re up for that kind of humiliation senior year?”
“Claire, if our friendship means anything to you, you cannot tell Chase a thing. I can’t take that kind of humiliation. I’m going to prom this year.”
“You? Going to prom?” Claire starts to cackle. “Why would you want to go to prom?”
“What are you, the wicked stepsister? Yes, me going to prom. Why is that so ridiculous? Most girls want to go to prom.”
“Sorry, I thought you were joking.” She slows to face me and puts her colorful beanie on her head. “A party would give you a chance to spend time with Chase. Real time. Not the kind where Amber walks in and projectile vomits on you, or whatever she’s going to do for attention. Because we wouldn’t invite her. In fact, we’d uninvite her.”
Suddenly I don’t feel so goody-two-shoes. Or even remotely perfectionist, except about the party planning.
“A party would make us matter. Think about it, Daisy. The pool house out back.
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