Best Buds (7 page)

Ashley shook her head. “I already know exactly what I want.” She reached into her large, white studded leather bag and pulled out a sheaf of pages. They were each taken from a different glossy magazine. She rifled through them until she found the page she was looking for. She placed it on the table and tapped it with one pale pink-manicured fingernail. “This is from the latest celebrity party at
Chateau Marmont” — she looked at my mom — “a very fancy Hollywood hotel that all the stars go to,” she explained as if Mom actually cared. “I want you to copy this exactly — studded golden vases with golden foliage, gold branches with crystals hanging from them, and chocolate artichokes.”

I stared at the garish arrangement. It was a far cry from the mason jars filled with wildflowers that I coveted.

“How pretty,” said Mom, although I was sure she didn’t really think so. “But do you think it’s a little dark for a summer …”

“These. Are. My. Centerpieces,” Ashley said firmly.

Mrs. Edwards laughed nervously. “My Ashley knows what she wants!” she said.

If Mom was disappointed she wasn’t getting a chance to be creative, she didn’t show it. “I know the best place to order the flowers and the branches and foliage. But the crystals and the vases are going to be pricey.” She glanced at Mrs. Edwards for approval.

Mrs. Edwards waved a hand. “Whatever it takes. I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.”

Ashley turned to her mother. “Thanks, Mom,”
she said sweetly. She was getting exactly what she wanted and
now
she could afford to be nice. As much as I disliked Ashley, I couldn’t help feel the tiniest bit of admiration for her.
She
would never be stuck working on her birthday!

Mom told them that she’d make some calls and present them with an estimate later in the week. Then we’d have to finalize the order one week in advance to be certain we’d get exactly what they wanted.

Before she left, Ashley turned to me with a sly grin, jangling an earring in her hand. “The RSVPs have been flooding in,” she said. “No one wants to miss the party of the year.” She wrinkled her nose as if she was thinking. “Can you guess who just confirmed that he’s coming?”

I was pretty sure that I could guess who it was. But I simply shrugged as if I cared so little I couldn’t even be bothered to speak.

“Hamilton Baldwin,” she said.

Even though I had been prepared to hear his name, it still sent a little wave of shock through me. “And he asked if he could bring a guest.” She bit her lower lip. “Wonder who that could be?”

Mom and I had just come home from the store when Poppy had steered us into the living room to join the rest of the family. She now stood in front of us “reading” from a notebook. Her hair was wet from her evening bath and you could see the comb marks in it. Instead of her usual pajamas, she was wearing an old black T-shirt of mine that fell below her knees. She finished and looked at us all expectantly. “The end,” she said, giving us a look. I started clapping, and the others joined in after a moment.

The rest of my family looked puzzled, but I was pretty sure I knew what was going on with my little sister. I decided to confirm it.

“Nice poem, Poppy,” I said.

She nodded.

“And how was your day?” I asked.

“Fine,” my normally talkative sister said.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“Water park.”

The water park is Poppy’s favorite place in the world. Any other day she’d be gushing for twenty minutes about the water slides, the lines, and the concessions. But not today.

Aster stared at Poppy, realization dawning in her eyes. She turned to me.

“I’m getting a bad feeling,” Aster said softly. “Or am I imagining this?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just what you think.”

Dark clothes. Dark poetry. Strangely silent. Poppy was acting just like Aster. And Aster didn’t like it one bit.

“But why?” Aster asked me.

I shook my head. “Why does Poppy do anything?”

Aster looked at me blankly.

“Because she feels like it. It will pass.”

Aster scowled. “I want it to pass
now.
How do I make her stop?”

I shook my head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Aster looked annoyed, but I was amused. And it was nice to have something to take my mind off the comment that Ashley had made about Hamilton. Why would he bring a guest to her party? And who could it be? I was obsessing over it nonstop.

Dad felt so bad about his Ashley birthday mess-up that he gave me the next couple of days off, and he worked in the store. Well, I wasn’t exactly off, since I had three little sisters to keep an eye on. But I managed to squeeze in a quick last visit with Heather and Amy before they went off on their summer trips, which was really nice. And I even enjoyed hanging out with my sisters; I found it pretty funny to see how Poppy’s Aster act, all silent and broody, made my goth sister crazy.

“It’s cute,” said Rose. “I don’t see why it bothers you so much.”

As we sat around the kitchen table one morning finishing our bagels, Aster was seized with a sudden inspiration.

“Hey, Poppy,” she said.

Silently, Poppy turned to her sister and raised an eyebrow. I nearly choked. Classic Aster move.

“I notice that your bedroom is yellow,” she said. “Have you ever taken a look at the walls on my side of the room Rose and I share?”

I could see Poppy gulp.

“What color are they?” Aster asked.

“Black,” Poppy said softly.

“I would never have yellow walls, Pops,” Aster said. “Too sunshiny for me.”

Poppy nodded. She got it.

The day was supposed to get pretty warm, so I decided we would head to the town pool. They offered free swimming lessons on Tuesdays and I could relax while my sisters swam. Plus, Poppy still loved to splash around in the kiddie pool. I wondered if I’d see anyone from school.

I showed our family pool card to the bored high school student behind the front entrance and we walked inside.
There were three pools — a deep pool with diving boards, a swimming pool with a section of cordoned-off lap lanes, and a kiddie pool. I waved to Carmine Belloni, Penelope Peterson, Chloe Davis, and Mike Hurley, who were playing Marco Polo in the main pool.

My sisters and I laid our towels down on the white plastic chairs near the big pool and slathered one another with sunscreen, paying special attention to super-pale Aster. Then I walked my sisters over to the big pool for their lesson and sat on the edge, my feet in the water, to watch. Poppy’s group was blowing bubbles in the shallow end and doing the doggie paddle. I watched as Rose, Aster, and two other kids their age each lined up in a lane to determine their swimming ability. Rose was wearing a bathing suit with a big red strawberry on it and a ruffly skirt while Aster had on a black suit with a grinning purple skull. Typical.

I watched as my sisters dove in the water. Though they hadn’t swum since last summer, Rose and Aster left the other kids in their wake. They reached out to touch the wall simultaneously, looked up, saw each other, and slapped
hands. I shook my head. Completely different, yet so many similarities.

Sometimes Rose and Aster’s closeness makes me feel a little left out. That’s where Becky came in. Except, of course, when she was going away for the entire summer!

Enough thinking about that. The sun was beating down on me and I was ready to go for a swim myself. I decided to ease myself into the water instead of jumping in, which is never easy. The water was so cold I had to force myself to duck my head underneath. Finally my body began to adjust and I bobbed around for a while.

“Marco!” shouted Mike. I ducked out of the way of his flailing arms.

“Polo!” cried Carmine. “Hey, Del, wanna play?” he asked as he swam past me.

I shook my head no, swam over to the ladder, and climbed out. I was pretty good at diving and thought I’d practice a bit. It was fun bouncing off the low board and jackknifing cleanly into the water. After my sixth dive, I climbed out, dripping on the cement, and eyed the high board warily.

“Do it! Do it!” cried Rose and Aster from the side of the pool, egging me on. I closed my eyes. The high board both thrilled and terrified me, but I had never gotten up the nerve to try it. Then a voice in my head said:
Do it Del, do it before your birthday. That way you can always say, I dove off the high board when I was twelve.

I liked the thought of that, and before I knew what I was doing, I was climbing up the steep ladder. My knees felt a little shaky as I walked to the end. The board wobbled. What was I thinking? But now that I was up there, there was no turning back.

I could see Rose and Aster pointing up at me, and Poppy, who had climbed out of the pool to get a closer look, jumping up and down. There was only one way out of this — I had to jump. At the very last moment I switched it to a dive. I put my hands together over my head, bent my knees, and sprung.

Splash!
I hit the water pretty cleanly. I surfaced and swam to the ladder and climbed out, a big smile on my face.

“Yay, Del!” shouted Poppy. “You’re so brave!”

Rose and Aster cheered.

I toweled myself off. I had done it. I just wasn’t sure I ever wanted to do it again.

“Del! Del! Look at me!” Poppy cried. I turned around to see her setting off from one side of the pool. She doggie-paddled hard, sending up plumes of water, her face screwed up in concentration. I was poised to jump in if she needed help. But she miraculously made it to the other side without going under.

“That was great, Poppy!” I cheered, pulling her out and wrapping her in a big, striped towel. Poppy grinned, making it totally clear that she had dropped the Aster routine. She sat down on a chair and gave me her patented puppy-dog eyes. “Will you come into the kiddie pool with me?” she begged.

I wanted to say no, of course. But when your kid sister looks at you with those big, brown eyes and begs you to do something, even if it will be embarrassing, you kind of have to say yes. So I did.

I was sitting in the kiddie pool, surrounded by toddlers in their saggy swim diapers.
This water is probably fifty percent pee,
I thought to myself with a grimace. Poppy and I were making some “soup” and we each had a pail
and shovel standing in as our pot and spoon. We were chopping pretend carrots. Apparently, I was slicing mine too big, so Poppy made me start over.

“Delphinium, is that you?” asked an extremely snotty voice.

I looked up just as Poppy decided to dump a bucketful of water over my head.

“Ha-ha, Del!” she cried. “I surprised you!”

I pushed my sopping hair out of my eyes and squinted into the sunlight to see who was talking to me. I could just make out the shape of a girl with long, straight brown hair. Correction — there were two of them. I shielded my eyes to take a closer look. It was Ashley’s goons.

“Hello, Sabrina. Hello, Rachel,” I said as dignified as possible under the circumstances — dripping wet, holding a plastic shovel as I sat cross-legged in the kiddie pool. I shook my head. “Why aren’t you guys at the Country Club?”

“They’re, like, repairing the pool,” explained Sabrina.

“And where’s your leader?” I asked.

Rachel scowled. “If you mean our
friend
Ashley, she’s in Boston sampling cakes for her party,” she said. “The
one you’re not invited to,” she added unnecessarily. “But you
are
working there!” She and Sabrina laughed and slapped hands as if they had said something incredibly funny.

I ignored that. “And she let you two go out on your own?” I asked sweetly. “How nice of her.”

Sabrina scowled and looked me up and down. “Nice suit,” she said. “Think maybe it’s time to, like, buy a new one?”

Puzzled, I glanced down at my bathing suit. I had bought it last year and thought it was supercute — a red-and-white-striped one-piece. But as I took a closer look I realized it was pretty faded from all the chlorine and the times I had forgotten it on the line for a day or two and left it to bake in the sun. I looked back up at Sabrina and Rachel. They were both in brightly colored string bikinis. Brand-new, I would guess.

“Yeah, good thing
Hamilton
didn’t see you in it,” offered Sabrina.

All thoughts of my old swimsuit left my head. “Hamilton was here?” I asked, showing perhaps a little too much interest.

The girls exchanged glances.

“You just missed him,” explained Sabrina.

“He left in a big rush when that girl came to pick him up,” finished Rachel.

When
that girl
picked him up?
My heart skipped a beat.

“Anyone from school?” I asked in what I hoped was a very nonchalant voice.

Sabrina leaned forward, clearly relishing the moment. “No,” she said dramatically. “An older woman.”

Relief washed over me. “Oh, you mean a tall, blonde lady,” I said. “That’s his mom.”

Rachel smiled wickedly and shook her head with a half smile, her eyes never leaving my face. “No, she was
definitely
not his mom. She actually looked just a couple of years older than us. Maybe in high school. Realllllly pretty.”

“Oh,” I said, my stomach sinking. Then I shook my head. I wouldn’t let the Wonder Twins know they had rattled me. “Whatever,” I said. “See you later.” I returned to chopping pretend carrots.

“Much better,” said Poppy approvingly.

Disappointed they weren’t going to get a rise out of me, Sabrina and Rachel stomped off in their jeweled sandals.

But I couldn’t help but stew. So
that
was why Hamilton had blown me off the other day! He obviously had a girlfriend. An older, attractive one at that. Then I remembered what Ashley had said. He was bringing a guest to her party. So the guest must be this pretty mystery girl.

My throat tightened. My summer was going from bad to worse. I thought about what Becky would say if she were there and decided to look on the bright side of things.
Good thing I’m not going to be anywhere near Ashley’s party,
I thought. Dad had agreed that I would help Mom with the McGillicuddy’s party and he’d step in to help Mom handle delivery and set-up for Ashley’s.