Cyrus.”
Popsicle choked on a laugh.
“That’s very nice…” I paused. I had no idea who she was.
“Lightbulb,” she supplied.
In any other place, I would’ve thought she’d gotten confused and started listing inanimate objects. But this was Hollywood Hills, domain of the strangely named and forgotten celebrity children. Besides, a girl named Birdie couldn’t criticize anyone’s name.
“That’s very nice, Lightbulb, but freshmen can’t attend the election party. Inviting you would violate an ancient tradition.”
“You broke the tradition by crashing it last year.”
I tightened my fingers around my fork. “But I’ve since realized the value of respecting the past. You can attend next year. Your time will come, eventually.” I reached out to pat her hand, but she snatched it back.
I knew the look that came into her eyes then. It’s the same look that was in my eyes my freshman year when Athena Clark smashed my lunch on the floor after I sat at the wrong table. Lightbulb drew in a deep breath. I held mine.
“ Down with the Queen of Broken Hearts !” Lightbulb yelled.
“Birdie?” Largesse said. My flunkies all turned to me.
I raised my head, imaginary crown firmly in place. “Dunk her.”
Lightbulb barely had time to gasp before Popsicle grabbed the nearest bottle of carbonated goodness and poured it out over Lightbulb’s head.
“Anything to add?” I asked.
Lightbulb stood frozen, pale blond hair dripping with brown liquid, her mouth working without sound. She stumbled backward, and it took me a moment to realize she been pushed. Annabelle stepped in front of her.
“Leave off, Birdie.”
I tapped a fingernail on the table. “Nice of you to come to call.”
Annabelle let out a sound that might have been a growl. My flunkies darted glances between me and her, waiting for orders.
I smiled, keeping my frozen facade intact to hide my churning gut. I couldn’t see Annabelle’s eyes behind her huge, out-of-style aviators.
“You are dismissed.” I waved a hand. Take the chance to retreat. Please, take it . I don’t think I really expected her to, so I was more than a little surprised to hear her heels clacking away. Part of me wanted to stand up and call her back, as if I could rewrite my life that easily.
I missed her. I couldn’t deny it. I missed having a friend I didn’t need to pretend anything for. I missed having someone I could rely on not to stab me in the back. And on top of that, I just missed Annabelle. None of my flunkies could switch from talking about advanced calculus to the latest episode of Gossip Girl as quickly as she could.
My flunkies settled around me. I granted them my attention. “Now, back to my party.”
A damp piece of Salisbury steak smacked into my cheek. I turned slowly, sluggish gravy dripping down my neck. Annabelle curtsied from where she held her spoon catapult.
Silence fell. Every eye in the room was on me, waiting for a reaction. I smiled. “You have terrible aim, but it’s a wonder you can see at all, wearing sunglasses inside.” I propped my chin on my interlaced fingers. “Trouble at home?” Translation: I can destroy you.
Annabelle didn’t even flinch. At least, I don’t think she did. It really was hard to tell. “So sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I was trying to hit your mouth. You worry me with your eating habits.”
“Worry about yourself.” It was a lame comeback, and I knew it. I could imagine Annabelle rolling her eyes as she walked away. The cafeteria returned to normalcy.
“Largesse?” I said.
He jerked in place, snapping his mouth shut.
“I’m going to need some paint.”
But more on that disaster later.
When I pulled into the driveway that night, I didn’t get out of my car. The lights were on in the house, and the driveway was full of cars. I had long ago stopped keeping track of my mother’s parties. I thought about staying out in the dark, but my stilettos were cutting into my feet, and I
Popsicle choked on a laugh.
“That’s very nice…” I paused. I had no idea who she was.
“Lightbulb,” she supplied.
In any other place, I would’ve thought she’d gotten confused and started listing inanimate objects. But this was Hollywood Hills, domain of the strangely named and forgotten celebrity children. Besides, a girl named Birdie couldn’t criticize anyone’s name.
“That’s very nice, Lightbulb, but freshmen can’t attend the election party. Inviting you would violate an ancient tradition.”
“You broke the tradition by crashing it last year.”
I tightened my fingers around my fork. “But I’ve since realized the value of respecting the past. You can attend next year. Your time will come, eventually.” I reached out to pat her hand, but she snatched it back.
I knew the look that came into her eyes then. It’s the same look that was in my eyes my freshman year when Athena Clark smashed my lunch on the floor after I sat at the wrong table. Lightbulb drew in a deep breath. I held mine.
“ Down with the Queen of Broken Hearts !” Lightbulb yelled.
“Birdie?” Largesse said. My flunkies all turned to me.
I raised my head, imaginary crown firmly in place. “Dunk her.”
Lightbulb barely had time to gasp before Popsicle grabbed the nearest bottle of carbonated goodness and poured it out over Lightbulb’s head.
“Anything to add?” I asked.
Lightbulb stood frozen, pale blond hair dripping with brown liquid, her mouth working without sound. She stumbled backward, and it took me a moment to realize she been pushed. Annabelle stepped in front of her.
“Leave off, Birdie.”
I tapped a fingernail on the table. “Nice of you to come to call.”
Annabelle let out a sound that might have been a growl. My flunkies darted glances between me and her, waiting for orders.
I smiled, keeping my frozen facade intact to hide my churning gut. I couldn’t see Annabelle’s eyes behind her huge, out-of-style aviators.
“You are dismissed.” I waved a hand. Take the chance to retreat. Please, take it . I don’t think I really expected her to, so I was more than a little surprised to hear her heels clacking away. Part of me wanted to stand up and call her back, as if I could rewrite my life that easily.
I missed her. I couldn’t deny it. I missed having a friend I didn’t need to pretend anything for. I missed having someone I could rely on not to stab me in the back. And on top of that, I just missed Annabelle. None of my flunkies could switch from talking about advanced calculus to the latest episode of Gossip Girl as quickly as she could.
My flunkies settled around me. I granted them my attention. “Now, back to my party.”
A damp piece of Salisbury steak smacked into my cheek. I turned slowly, sluggish gravy dripping down my neck. Annabelle curtsied from where she held her spoon catapult.
Silence fell. Every eye in the room was on me, waiting for a reaction. I smiled. “You have terrible aim, but it’s a wonder you can see at all, wearing sunglasses inside.” I propped my chin on my interlaced fingers. “Trouble at home?” Translation: I can destroy you.
Annabelle didn’t even flinch. At least, I don’t think she did. It really was hard to tell. “So sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I was trying to hit your mouth. You worry me with your eating habits.”
“Worry about yourself.” It was a lame comeback, and I knew it. I could imagine Annabelle rolling her eyes as she walked away. The cafeteria returned to normalcy.
“Largesse?” I said.
He jerked in place, snapping his mouth shut.
“I’m going to need some paint.”
But more on that disaster later.
When I pulled into the driveway that night, I didn’t get out of my car. The lights were on in the house, and the driveway was full of cars. I had long ago stopped keeping track of my mother’s parties. I thought about staying out in the dark, but my stilettos were cutting into my feet, and I
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