Читать книгу Glitter, Paint and Homemade Cookies: One Girl's Guide to Surviving Middle School - Heather M.C. Paynter - Страница 10

The next morning brings with it a million tough decisions: what to wear, what to eat for breakfast, what to dress Joker in. Just kidding, he would never allow it. I reach down to pet him, but he moves suddenly and I poke him in the eye instead, sorry big guy.

I wrap up Tasha’s present and hope she likes it. I bought her a t-shirt from her favorite store with a matching chunky necklace. I always give it the Maggie test, meaning if I like it, then she probably will too. I concur it passes and carefully wrap it in pink and green tissue before arranging it in the birthday gift bag I found with the stash in our closet. There’s no stigma against regifting a gift bag, is there? I hope not. I think it looks fine.

I want to get there early, so I convince Mom to give me a ride. As soon as we pull into the driveway, I wave a quick goodbye and practically sprint up to the door. Tasha’s place looks great, I mean really cool. There are purple balloons and streamers everywhere and snacks of party mix and chips set up all around. Tasha’s house is really cool and big and open with giant windows, wood floors and granite counters in a spacious kitchen. The sun pours through the windows and makes the kitchen warm and cozy. Tasha has an older brother and sometimes I think she’s really lucky, but today he was complaining about the impending rush of girls headed to the house in a short time.

“I don’t see why she gets this party. This is my house too and maybe I’m interested in having some friends over,” he said. Jason is cool, but today he was acting like an ass. “None of my friends are going to want to come with this stupid party going on.” Tasha’s mom stepped in with a firm hand and I was pretty impressed. “You can leave if you like and better yet, maybe you should go to your friend’s house.”

The bluff was called. He sulked back to his room. I mean, I didn’t even understand his complaining. His room is phat. He’s got video games and all the consoles imaginable, not to mention a killer stereo system and a big-screen television. T and I snuck in there once to scope it out and if he’d known about it, well let’s just say, it wouldn’t have been good for us. He seems to be pretty protective of his room.

We got to the business of setting up the living room. Too cool, I felt this was a perfect precursor to setting up our own fashion business one day. We set out color palettes of eye shadows and blushes. We arranged mascaras, lip glosses and eye and lip pencils. I thought T’s mom was extra cool considering the potential for mess, but she helped us with everything and we had a pretty good setup. About 15 girls had replied they were coming and that seemed about right for an interactive party.

We even had color wheels that we found on the Internet and printed out for reference. We had just finished putting together the gift bags filled with makeup samples and brushes when the first guest rang the bell. It was Morgan and that was a good thing. She’s always willing to help and is an all-around fun person. She helped us cook up some last-minute snacks (pizza and egg rolls) and set out appetizer plates and spoons before the guests really started coming. We took one last look and were pretty pleased with our work. Streamers were everywhere, purple and white. We had cut pictures out of high-end fashion magazines and made collages that were hung around the room. But these weren’t cheesy-looking ones. I mean, they looked professional. We took our time making them look clean and it showed. We placed fabric swatches at each corner of the table so that girls could see what colors would complement their makeovers. We even made posters with famous references to iconic fashion locations including Parsons, Rodeo Drive and Milan. Mix that with a carefully thought-out DJ mix of music, and we had a prime party atmosphere.

I would say the effort was well worth the result and Tasha looked so excited. I was excited for her.

The guests begin coming in by twos at this point and things were rolling along. All of us were milling about and mingling. We had punch, we had finger sandwiches and chips and we had good company. Things were going along pretty well until I heard that whiney, complaining voice that I quickly recognized as Carly’s. I don’t know what her problem is, but she’s a total pill.

“I don’t see why there’s no real food,” she was saying to nobody in particular. “And the games look boring.” Oh yikes as I groaned to myself. She’s such a complainer and she gets so much practice, by this time you’d think she’d be great at it.

I didn’t want her to ruin Tasha’s special day, so I told her to can it. “Don’t you dare spoil Tasha’s day,” I said. “This is her day, not yours. If you don’t like it, maybe you better leave.”

She looked at me in disbelief. I knew this wasn’t going to be a quiet departure. She was going to make a scene. I could see the anger building up in her eyes and her face and I steeled myself for the outburst. “What right do you have to talk to me that way? How could you?” she said.

I could see the lip quiver, a sure sign of the practiced drama queen. Though I could see the disaster coming I was powerless to stop it. Thank goodness Tasha’s mom was practiced at this sort of thing. “Hey girls, it’s time for games and fun,” she said. And by saying those few words, she effectively, albeit temporarily, shut down the Carly machine.

The first game was a warmup for things to come. We organized a scavenger hunt throughout the house and front yard. Jason’s room was off limits, but other than that, and considering the size of the house, the hunt lasted a good long while and kept everyone busy. We looked for things like fruity candy packages, party rings, picture cutouts and other little party favors. It was a cool way to get things going and it kept certain people’s mouths shut for a time.

We were pretty hungry after that, so we sat down to a nice lunch at the table. We had egg rolls, pizza rolls, deli sandwiches, chips and lemonade. It was exactly what we needed, which was food and a break. I could see Carly at the end of the table with that pouty look on her face and I couldn’t believe how selfish she was. Looking for attention is one thing, but really going out of your way to ruin someone’s day, I couldn’t understand it.

Regardless, everyone was having a pretty good time. Tasha announced that makeup time was about to begin. This is what we had been planning and everyone was bubbling over, giggling and talking about our makeovers. I looked over and could see Carly was getting ready to say something. I practically willed her mouth shut in my head, I wished with all my heart that nothing would come out of that obnoxious mouth and I turned to help with the setup. As it turned out, I was right to be worried.

“My mom wouldn’t want me using makeup,” said Carly. “She thinks it’s inappropriate for girls our age to wear it. So it’s only fair that we do something that all of us can do.” She looked around for the support and attention she was seeking. She was kidding, I mean she was, right? I had seen her come to school looking like she had just come out of clown school with all the makeup she plastered on.

The invitations, the party planning, the conversations we had leading up to this party were a dead giveaway to what was going to happen here. She knew it was a makeup party from the beginning, but it was pretty easy to see what she was doing. This was another attention-seeking tactic of hers that was determined to mess up this party. I felt sick for Tasha who looked helplessly at Carly and then at her mother.

Now luckily, Tasha’s mom is one of those super cool moms who really seems to know the deal. She swept into action and, most diplomatically I must say, neutralized the evil intentions of one Carly Taylor. “Now Carly, Tasha and the girls have been planning this for a long time. They’ve worked hard on this party, everything is set up. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but we’re not going to stop this party for you.”

I think Carly was so used to getting her way every time, you could see she was really surprised. Her face turned a little red and she struggled to find the words that would come next. “I guess I’ll have to call my mom to come and get me then,” she said weakly. Boy, bluffs were being called all over the place here. I knew Carly and Tasha’s mom were friends so I was wondering how this would play out.

“I’ll call her for you if you want,” said Tasha’s mom. WOW! Wasn’t expecting that.

The tension was pretty thick. I mean, who argues with someone’s mom? It was silent for a good, long while – at least it felt like a long time. Carly looked around and maybe she felt a little outnumbered. I even found myself feeling a tiny bit sorry for her right at that moment.

“Well, maybe after cake,” she said. She had backed down. A first.

“Very well then,” said Mrs. Clark. She walked back into the kitchen and that seemed to be the end of it. No one wanted to look at Carly right that minute and honestly, who cared? We got down to the business we had come there for and in my mind, the incident had been forgotten.

I learned a lot that day. I learned that dark browns and golds complemented my skin tone. I learned that daily use of sunscreen prevents early wrinkles and that proper nutrition is the most important factor in a healthy appearance. I also learned that some people like to be difficult and that one smackdown doesn’t stop the problem. I was pretty sure that Carly Taylor was going to insert herself into our perfect eighth grade year whether we liked it or not.

*****

The rest of the weekend seemed to be a wash. I was exhausted from that party. I know that when I’m a famous designer, this is something I will have to do. Events like Fashion Week not to mention deadlines and fittings for the Academy Awards will likely be a part of my life so I better get used to it. However, this weekend I was tired and I appreciated my nice quiet room. I pulled out my video game guitar for the first time in a while and rocked out to some old school metal. Sometimes it’s just what a girl needs to do to let off a little steam.