Girls We Love (16 page)

“What's goin' on,” Mickey said, reaching out a hand for Jonathan and David to slap.

“Well, David's freaking out about—guess what—girls, which is why we're hiding back here. So that's good. Oh! And this club is actually
for
people our age, so they don't serve alcohol here. Which is not nearly so bad as the suffocating cuteness of everything. Hi, Philippa, it's nice to see you,” Jonathan said.

Philippa smiled. She really liked Jonathan, but sometimes he could be weirdly sarcastic about his
friends' problems, which he was also obsessed with. Plus, she thought Candy was sort of adorable, and his criticizing it irritated her. “Hi, Jonathan. Hi, David,” she said. “What's the matter? I thought you broke up with Amanda like a million years ago.”

“Amanda?” David said. “Amanda was simple compared with this.”

“You say that now …,” Mickey said.

“Would you all sit down?” Jonathan asked. “You're making me nervous.” They all sat down. “Anyway, our David here is all in a tizzy because a starlet's in love with him and wants him to fly to Gda
ń
sk and be in a movie with her. But he thinks that might be too
glamorous
or some ridiculous shit. He's also having a crisis of conscience because he kissed Flan's friend Liv the other night, and he thinks he might have a crush on her, too, but for some reason she's one fourteen-year-old who is impossible to get on the phone.” Jonathan gave a final roll of his eyes. “That's why we can't leave this table,” he concluded. “We might run into either of these girls, and we don't know what to say to either of them. I mean, David, not we. David doesn't know what to say to them.”

“David,” Patch said, “I don't give out a lot of advice, so you should listen when I do. That girl Liv isn't right in the head. Stay away, okay?”

“Oh,” David said. He looked sort of stunned by
this advice, but like he had been touched by Patch's whole zen calm thing. “That's good. But I still kissed her. What if SBB finds out?”

“David,” Philippa said, “as the only girl present, I feel I should take this opportunity to give you your get-out-of-jail-free card. It's okay. You don't have to tell, just this once. It can just be our secret. You all right with that, big guy?”

“Really?” David mumbled. “Thanks, Philippa. But the thing is, I don't know if I even want to be with SBB. I mean, maybe that lifestyle isn't for me. Not to mention, she's living in my parents' house again, which is still just as creepy and incestuous as last time, if not more so.”

“And, I mean this whole thing about her being ‘undercover,'” Jonathan said, with a shake of his head. “That's not real normal. Not only did she insist on wearing this wig that makes her look like Milla Jovovich in
Zoolander,
she has a Mini-Me sidekick who is dressed just like her. I saw them from behind, and it was so bizarre I just had to get out of there without saying hi to her.”

“Really?” David looked like he was going to cry.

“To figure this one out, I think we all need a drink,” Jonathan said. “Now, if only we could get a drink around here… ”

“Drinks!” A tiny girl in a little black tunic thing and
a black bobbed wig careened around the corner. She grabbed hold of the table and came to a halt. It was SBB, who Philippa barely recognized from the old days when they were friends. “Do you know where we can get some? I've been looking for a drink
everywhere.
” She smiled, and Philippa suddenly recognized Sara-Beth Benny under the wig. “I mean, I've been looking for you, too,” she said. “David, where have you been?”

“Nowhere,” David croaked.

“Well, that's just crackers.
Nowhere?
” she smiled at the table, like they were all her fans, and then she stage-whispered, “I hope you haven't been drinking too much, because we have to get on a plane tomorrow night … to get to the
film set
… in
Gda
ń
sk.
”

Philippa noticed Jonathan cringe at her emphasis. “Oh!” SBB said when she saw her. “Philippa Frady! I've been trying to run into you forever, it feels like!”

They kissed hello on both cheeks. “It's good to see you,” Philippa said.

“You too,” SBB said. “Anyway, forget the drinks. Don't you guys know what time it is?” There was a tableful of silence. SBB did a little twirl. “You fools!” she said gaily. “It's time to light the candles on Flan's birthday cake!”

I have always tried not to be one of those sad sacks who spend their whole birthday feeling sorry for themselves, but it was pretty hard not to feel a little bit—okay, a
lot
—of self-pity on my fourteenth, also known as my “sweet sixteen.”

I had somehow been stranded by myself at the bar, and was surrounded by strangers who appeared to be having a great time. They were squealing and dancing and generally enjoying good, clean fun under an open sky on a hot summer night and they all had faces that I recognized, either because they were high school kids who my brother knew and who had always seemed larger than life to me, or they were actual celebrities, people who Liesel had called in for the big event. And here I was, just standing still, too shy to talk to any of them. Leland Brinker was out there, dancing like a big freak,
and it was starting to look pretty silly that I had ever been deciding between Leland and Jonathan in my head. Apparently all of my worst fears had turned out to be true: Jonathan was so into Liv that I had become invisible to him, and Leland, well, Leland was pretty much out of my league.

Which probably should have been obvious to me from the beginning. The me who thought she could be a big party girl seemed very, very far away at the moment, and also kind of insane.

Nobody out there knew me. I was just another girl in a gold dress, huddled by the bar and well into her fourth glass of sparkling apple juice.

I mean, why did I want to bring all this attention to myself and have a big party in the first place? It seemed ridiculously obvious to me now that I was not and never would be a party girl, whatever that means, anyway.

For the moment, though, I was just glad that Deb the PR lady had forgotten about me. Ever since she'd told me to watch my dress, I'd been paranoid about spilling something on it, and by this point in the evening, I felt like the damn thing was clawing at my skin from inside the lining.

I was also starting to suspect that certain Candy-goers had smuggled in some contraband booze, because there were definitely a few
partiers who were swerving and generally looking a little more wild-eyed than sparkling apple juice would usually allow.

Seeing as how low and lonely I was feeling, I guess what happened next was inevitable.

One of those booze-smuggling jerk-offs went skidding across the pink stones and straight into me. I was knocked from my perch and out into the crowd, which graciously parted so that everybody could get a look at me sprawled on the ground. It stung a little bit, when I hit those shiny pink stones, but mostly it was just the humiliation. And the stickiness. There was definitely something sticky on the ground, and I didn't want to think about what it was doing to my dress.

“I'm so sorry,” the guy said.

I looked up and immediately recognized Leland Brinker. “That's okay,” I said. Well, I guess I can't complain that my celebrity crush didn't give me any birthday attention anymore.

He extended his hand and pulled me up. As I got up on two feet, I saw my wig on the floor, and felt my normal old brown hair falling down around my shoulders.

“Oh, no way!” Leland said. “You're the birthday girl, huh?”

“Oh!” I said. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Flan, right?” he said. He kissed me on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Flan. This might be a good time to tell you I'm your surprise birthday date.”

“Oh, that's great,” I said, blushing. Thankfully, now that I was back on my own two feet, the crowd had gone back to not paying attention to me, so I don't think anybody noticed the pink cheeks. I couldn't believe how much cuter Leland was in person. His blondish hair was all thin and angelic, and he had really piercing blue eyes, shrouded in beautiful dark lashes.

“Hey,” Leland yelled in the bartender's direction. He punctuated it with a loud whistle, like the kind you would use for a puppy. That's the kind of thing that can really break a spell, but I was still pretty impressed by his prettiness at that moment in time. The bartender gave him a disgusted look. “Two more sparkling apple juices, for me and the birthday girl!” he said.

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he said, toasting me with the sparkling apple juice. This night wasn't turning out at all like I expected, but I figured, what the hell, and downed my drink. Leland did the same. “So,” he said, pumping his eyebrows at me, “sweet sixteen … I guess that
makes you sixteen today. Big milestone,” he said with a shrug, a mere lift and drop of the shoulders, that he somehow managed to make lascivious and gross.

“Actually, today is my …” I was about to explain to him the whole situation, but then somebody hit the OFF switch on all the colored searchlights, and I saw a glowing cake coming in my direction.

“Cake?” Patch said. “I didn't know anything about a cake.”

“Yeah, well, Liesel and I thought since it was her birthday and everything… ” SBB shrugged and smiled brightly, and then she climbed over Mickey and Philippa and into David's arms. “Hi, baby,” she said.

David's friends all looked away as she straddled him and gave him a few intense kisses. When she'd had enough of that, she said impatiently, “Come on, people! It's cake time.”

David and his friends followed SBB to an area hidden behind planted trees, where Candy staffers were busily washing glasses and generally freaking out about the insanity out there. In the center of all this activity was an incredibly realistic-looking cake, in the shape of a miniature baby elephant.

“Oh my God,” Philippa said. “That cake is crazy cool!”

“I know, right? Liesel was planning on a real elephant but then Candy called last night and said that elephants weren't allowed in the club, and since she's representing them and everything, she couldn't really bully them. So we thought of this. Usually, they only do wedding cakes, but it turns out this particular pastry chef is a fan.”

“Fan of what?” Mickey said. “Clubs for underage people?”

“No,” SBB said, her face falling a little bit. “A fan of my show.”

“I got that,” Jonathan said.

“Thank you, Jonathan,” Sara-Beth said. She continued to put candles into the cake, and as she did she felt David's eyes on her. That was the kind of rapport they had. She lifted her eyes to him and winked. David, as usual, looked somewhat freaked out by the overwhelming attraction. That was when she realized that David wasn't wearing the suit that she'd bought him. It didn't matter, really. He always looked great, even in a simple hoodie and jeans.
Especially
in a hoodie and jeans.

“Hey, SBB,” Patch said, “I think you've got too many candles there. Flan is only fourteen today.”

Sara-Beth looked up at him and then batted the naysaying away. “I know, but it's her sweet sixteen. So I put sixteen candles on the cake.”

“Don't you think that's kind of weird?” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, whatever,” SBB said. “Nobody counts the candles anyway.”

“Okay,” Patch said. “Whatever makes Flan happy. You guys ready?”

He picked up the cake, and everybody followed him. They moved into the center of the Candy courtyard like a small army of Flan-adoration. SBB gave the DJ the signal and then he turned off the searchlights and lowered the music. The crowd parted for them, and they moved forward, first Patch and SBB, then Jonathan and David, then Philippa and Mickey. When Sara-Beth caught sight of Flan, sitting next to Leland Brinker at the bar, she started to sing. In halting voices, they filled that courtyard with a rousing version of “Happy Birthday to You.”

Something had happened to Flan's wig, but she looked beautiful with her hair falling down and her gold dress slightly askew. As SBB crooned, “And many more… ” she even thought she saw Flan's big eyes get all mysterious and wet, like she might cry.

“Don't cry,” SBB said, coming right up to her with Patch and the big elephant cake. “You have to blow out your candles. And besides, your crush is right there.” Flan looked at her and gave three furtive little shakes
of her head. “No, over there,” Sara-Beth said, pointing a slender arm in Jonathan's direction. She turned to look at him, to make sure he was actually in the direction she had pointed, and she saw that he was frozen in the middle of saying something to David and that the color had gone out of his face. She looked back at Flan, and decided that she would figure out later how to tell Jonathan that Flan had a crush on him. “Well, don't just stand there! Blow the candles out.”

Flan smiled weakly, leaned forward, and blew out all but one candle. As she looked at the last wayward candle, one big tear collected on the rim of her eye and then dropped.

“Hey, Flan,” a female voice out in the crowd yelled. “Why are you crying? Is it because you have a secret?”

Flan jerked up, and SBB looked around trying to see where the voice had come from. “Who said that?” SBB yelled.

“What, are you trying to deny that there's something a little off about this sweet sixteen party?” the same voice yelled. There was a smattering of laughter across the crowd, and then it grew. Pretty soon it seemed like everybody was laughing. And then it got worse.

“We paid to get in here!” one of the partygoers yelled. “And we want our sweet sixteen-year-old to really be sixteen!”