11 Birthdays Page 4

  Dad spent a lot of time burning CDs of movie theme songs, but they’re not really danceable. Everyone’s mostly standing around eating chips and M&M’S. After what feels like an eternity of making small talk, I glance up at the clock. It’s almost 8:00, and half the people aren’t here. Only three of the boys I invited have shown up. Dad was supposed to organize the games, but he’s sitting down on the couch, a glazed expression on his pale face. Kylie disappeared long ago.

  I pull Stephanie aside and whisper, “Where is everyone?”

  She looks around the room uneasily. “I’m not sure.” I have the feeling she knows more than she’s saying. I squeeze her arm. Hard.

  “Okay, okay. I think they went to Leo’s party instead.” I release my grip. “Oh.”

  “On top of everything else, he supposedly has some big football player there. You know, giving tips on throwing and stuff.”

  My head swims with this new information.

  “Um, Amanda?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Um, would you mind a ton if I went, too? Just for a little while? I’ll come back, I promise.”

  At first I think she’s kidding. “But you don’t even like football.”

  She looks down at the carpet. “It’s just that Mena and Heather and Jess and the rest of the girls who made the gymnastics team are there, and if I don’t go it wouldn’t look good. I want them to know I’m a team player. You know how it is.”

  “I guess so,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. I just want to go upstairs and cry. I tug hard at my collar, which is so scratchy it has made my neck red and blotchy. I want to ask since when is Leo friends with those girls, but I don’t really want to know.

  Stephanie gives me a quick hug and slips out just before Mom brings out my cake. I make the same wish I made at lunch over the cupcake. I wish I had never walked by Leo’s room that night. I wish so hard I almost fool myself into believing that when I open my eyes, all this will be gone and Leo and I will be in the middle of one of our great parties, where no one has to pretend to be having fun.

  Nope.

  The party drags on until finally the parents start arriving. I pray that Mom doesn’t invite them in for cake, and thankfully she doesn’t. The basement quickly empties. Struggling to choke back tears, I toss the used plastic cups into the garbage, one by one. Even the table piled with presents can’t cheer me up. Although there really are a lot of presents considering only eight kids showed up. I lift up the cards. One after another are names of kids I invited but who didn’t show up. At least I thought they hadn’t shown up. That’s weird.

  Mom’s voice wafts down the stairs toward me. She’s on the phone, as usual. “No, I haven’t told Amanda yet. I didn’t want to ruin her party.” She reaches the bottom of the stairs and catches sight of me standing by the gifts. She backs up half a step, looking surprised. “I’ll call you back later,” she says, closing her cell.

  “What was that about?” I ask, sinking into the couch.

  She sits down next to me and takes a deep breath. “I was fired tonight.”

  It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in. I sit up straight. “Fired? You? Can they do that?”

  “They can and they did.”

  “But why?”

  She sighs. “It’s complicated. I lost a very important account this morning. I knew a lot was riding on this one.”

  “They didn’t like your ideas? But you always have good ideas.” I pull at my collar again. “Except maybe for this costume!”

  The sides of her mouth curl up, but she quickly frowns again. “They didn’t even get to see my ideas. I spent weeks working on the mock-up for the campaign, but I left it home. There wasn’t time to redo it.”

  “But I saw you leave this morning, and you had the poster rolled up under your arm.”

  She shakes her head sadly. “No, what I had was your sister’s science project. If the client had wanted to learn how a solid turns into a gas, I’d have been all set.” She starts to laugh, but it’s not a happy laugh. “Enough about me. I’ll find another job, not to worry,” she says with finality. “So, did you enjoy your party?”

  I open my mouth to answer, but don’t know what to say. She already feels bad enough, I don’t want to add to it. So I just nod. I don’t know if she believes me, but she doesn’t press it.

  “You sure got a lot of gifts,” she says, gesturing to the table. “They kept showing up all night.”

  My eyes widen. “People just dropped them off at the door? And didn’t even come in?”

  She hesitates, then presses her lips together, which is what she does when she doesn’t want to answer. I can’t believe this. “I’m going to go to bed now, okay?”

  “Don’t you want to open them?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” I hurry upstairs before she says anything else. The light is already off in Kylie’s room, which is surprising since she’s usually up IM-ing her friends at this time of night. I lock my door and kick off the shoes, which have given me blisters on both heels. I wrestle the dress to the ground, and kick it under my desk.

  I guess Stephanie’s not coming back tonight. I don’t really want to talk to anyone anyway. I hope she had fun with her new gymnastics friends. No one in my family even asked me how tryouts went. I put on my most comfortable pajamas and climb into bed. Is this what every birthday from now on is going to be like? Even though I’m still mad at Leo, I hope he had a better time at his party than I had at mine.

  I switch off my lamp and close my eyes. At least tomorrow’s Saturday and I won’t have to deal with seeing everyone at school who blew off my party. I lie still, waiting for sleep to come. But something’s not right. I switch the lamp back on, hop out of bed, and shut SpongeBob in the closet.

  Ah, that’s better.

  Chapter Seven

  My first thought when I turn off my alarm is how happy I am that my birthday is over and done with. My second thought is Why is my alarm going off on a Saturday? I must have set it out of habit. I close my eyes again and snuggle under the covers. It’s almost worth waking up this early on the weekend, just to know I can go back to sleep.

  I’m about to drift off again when the sound of Kylie’s door opening and closing startles me. Why is she up so early? Maybe she forgot to turn off her alarm, too. I glance at the clock. It’s still before seven. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy something moving in the middle of my room. I bolt upright. It’s the SpongeBob balloon, waving happily at me. I rub my eyes and then whirl around to check the closet door. Still shut. Is this why Kylie’s up so early? She woke up to play a trick on me? We don’t really have a trick-playing kind of relationship. I’m not sure what kind of relationship we have. We used to get along pretty well, until a few years ago. Now all she cares about is talking to her friends. Sometimes I think she forgets she even has a younger sister.

  Now that I’m awake, I have to go to the bathroom. On the way, I put SpongeBob back in the closet and place some heavy sneakers on top of his cardboard feet. He’s not going anywhere now. Kylie’s door is open, like it was yesterday. I stick my head in to ask her about the balloon, but she’s not there. Her diary’s out on the floor again. She’s either getting more trusting or more forgetful.

  I’m on my way back from the bathroom when Mom steps out of her room, fully dressed in her business suit. “Amanda, why aren’t you dressed? The bus leaves in ten minutes!”

  All I can think to say to this odd statement is,

  “The bus?”

  She nods, fastening her necklace. “I’m sorry I can’t take you to school. I have a big meeting. And your dad’s feeling pretty sick. Now hurry up or you’ll miss it.”

  She closes her door and I stand there, unsure how to react. I know Mom losing her job must have been a big shock, but she’s in some kind of weird denial or something. Maybe it’s like the time I got six inches cut off my hair, and for days after I kept thinking it was still there.

  She opens the door again.
“Oh, and happy birthday, honey!” She gives me a squeeze, then says, “Now go on, get dressed.”

  Kylie runs upstairs in her jogging outfit as Mom closes her door again. She glances at me, taking in my pajamas and fuzzy socks. “You better get dressed. We have to take the bus today.”

  Ah, okay. Now it makes sense!

  “I get it!” I announce happily. “This is some kind of game. You’re all trying to trick me into thinking it’s a school day. Well, it’s not going to work.”

  Kylie shrugs and goes into her room. “Whatever you say.”

  I smile as I climb back into bed. It’s nice that they went to all this effort for me.

  Five minutes later Mom bursts into the room. “Amanda! What are you doing?”

  I lean up on my elbows. “It’s okay, Mom. I figured it out. You can go back to bed now.”

  Instead, she walks over and pulls the covers off my bed. “You have five minutes. I know you’re not looking forward to your party tonight, but you’ve simply got to make the best of it. Now get up.”

  “What do you mean I’m not looking forward to my party? My party was yesterday!”

  She flicks her wrist over to check her watch. “Amanda, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I have to go. Please don’t miss the bus, your dad really isn’t in any condition to drive you.” With that she rushes out of the room.

  Wow. They’re really committing to this joke! Maybe it leads to some big present for me. Like, if I get up and get dressed, then we’ll all wind up going somewhere really cool for the day. Fine. I’ll play along. I open my drawers and am momentarily surprised to see my clothes from yesterday clean and folded. Mom must have done it last night after I went to sleep. I get dressed quickly and run downstairs, expecting to see everyone waiting for me. But Dad’s alone in the kitchen, drinking his tea in the same pajamas as yesterday.

  “Happy birthday, sweetie,” he says groggily, then pauses to sneeze. “Kylie already left. You better hurry.”

  I wink. “Right. I better hurry. Wouldn’t want to miss the school bus!” I start out the door, but he grabs my arm.

  “Don’t forget this.” He hands me my backpack. It’s really heavy, like it was yesterday. That’s weird. I put most of my books away when my locker got fixed. My parents must have weighed it down with stuff as part of their plan. I wink again as I sling it over my shoulder.

  “Do you have something in your eye, honey?” Dad asks, peering at me closely. “You keep blinking strangely.”

  “Very funny, Dad. See you later! Or sooner!”

  He stands at the door as I leave, an odd expression on his face. He’s probably trying not to give away the surprise. Kylie is waiting on the corner when I get there, also wearing the same outfit she wore yesterday. I wonder how my parents bribed her into going along with all of this.

  “I see you made it,” she says.

  I rock on my heels. “Yup.”

  I point at the poster under her arm. “Your science project, right? Or is it?”

  “Or is it what?”

  “Or is it Mom’s presentation for her meeting?”

  Kylie stares at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “How long do you think they’ll make us wait?” I ask her. “You know, before they come get us?”

  “The bus is only two minutes late,” she says, looking down the block. “Chill out.”

  I smile. Kylie always was a good actress. She had the lead in the school play last year. Even though I wish I were still cozy in my bed, I’m actually enjoying myself. If my family is doing all of this to make me feel better about last night’s party disaster, it’s working.

  “Here it comes,” Kylie says, picking her bag up from the sidewalk.

  I turn to look, expecting to see Mom’s car. But it’s the school bus! I know it’s ours because it says Willow Falls Middle School on it. I’m speechless. Did they hire the bus driver to work on a Saturday? All for me? The door whooshes open, and I follow Kylie up the stairs. My stomach drops to my feet when the sounds of all the kids reach me. A beach ball narrowly misses my head. I try to pick up my feet to walk, but stumble. Everything is just like it was yesterday! Kylie’s science partner, Dustin, is sitting with his arm around that girl Alyssa. Kylie ignores him and laughs with her best friend, Jen, just like yesterday. Jonathan looks on with those sad eyes. Feeling shaky and a little bit faint, I collapse in the same seat I had chosen yesterday. My head is swimming.

  If this isn’t a game planned by my loving family, what is this, then? Did I just dream everything that happened yesterday? My dreams are usually about me wearing pajamas to school or forgetting to study for a test. I’ve never dreamed a whole DAY before, and it sure didn’t feel like a dream. But how else can I explain the fact that I know everything that’s about to happen? I must be psychic! Maybe I always WAS, and it’s just coming out now that I’m eleven. I must be having premonitions, which was a vocabulary word in English class a few months ago. It means I’m able to predict the future. That’s why all this feels so familiar. Like a serious case of déjà vu.

  The bus pulls up to Ruby’s stop. She climbs on with her big duffel bag and flips her hair, just like I knew she would. I wonder what other kinds of magical powers I have.

  Stephanie climbs on the bus and I try out my powers on her. I send her a telepathic message telling her I’m on the bus and to come sit with me. She doesn’t even glance my way. Okay, so I probably don’t have telepathy. Maybe I can move things with my mind. I focus on that annoying beach ball that keeps bopping from person to person. I try to get it to come to me.

  It doesn’t.

  Okay, cross that one off the list. Maybe mind reading? I turn around in my seat. Behind me is Brian Grady, a kid in my math class. “Hey, Brian,” I say, “think of a number between one and ten.”

  He takes out his earphones. “Huh?”

  I repeat my request.

  “Okay.”

  I concentrate for a second, then a number eight pops into my head. “Eight!” I announce confidently.

  He shakes his head and puts his earphones back in. “Three.”

  I turn back around, defeated. Okay, so I can’t read minds. The bus is pulling up to the school now and I force myself to climb out.

  “Hey, Birthday Girl!” Stephanie says when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

  Ruby mumbles happy birthday, too, but I ignore her. I’m feeling really uneasy and even a little nauseous. I’m tempted to tell Stephanie what’s going on, but I don’t understand it myself, and Ruby would just laugh at me. Having psychic powers can be a lonely existence. “Didn’t you see me on the bus?” I finally ask.

  She takes a step back. “Huh? You were on the bus?”

  I nod and watch Kylie step off, wearing the same blank expression she wore yesterday. I turn back to Stephanie. “My mother has a big meeting, and my dad’s not feeling well.”

  Just like I knew she would, she assures me she would have sat with me. A few minutes later I have to pretend to be surprised at my decorated locker, and then even though I knew it was coming, I actually AM surprised when I can’t pull the locker door open. I seem to know everything that’s going to happen, even down to little tiny details. I glance to my left. Yup, even the lollipop is there. My unease is starting to turn to fear. I’m not sure I WANT to be psychic anymore.

  The bell rings while I’m still standing in front of my jammed locker. I’m now late for class, like I knew I would be. I slide into my seat. The teacher steps aside, revealing the announcement of the pop quiz. Even though I know the answers, when the quiz hits my desk I decide to mark down the same choices I made before. I’m scared of what might happen if I change things.

  I get my same 86. I risk another glance at Leo. His head is in his hands, like yesterday. If there’s anyone I’d want to tell about my new powers, it would be him. Well, it would have been him. Before he betrayed me. I’m sure Stephanie wouldn’t laugh at me, but she probably wouldn’t believe me, either.

 
The rest of the morning goes by in a haze. On my way to lunch I stop to report my locker problem and realize that I forgot my lunch. Ugh! What’s the point of predicting something in advance if it’s not going to save me some trouble? My friends have the same amount of extra change, the conversation about Leo’s party is the same, and I have the same need to leave the cafeteria. The déjà vu continues as the crying boy knocks into me again and we have the same conversation. Periodic table, snot on his shirtsleeve, amoebas, mean science teacher. Then cupcake, singing, wishing, and that smile from Leo. I wish I could just hide under the lunch table until all this goes away.

  School finally ends. I dump most of my books into my locker and tuck in the remaining streamers. I desperately want to go home, but I’m stuck going to gymnastics tryouts. Leo, nose red from sneezing, is about to push open the door of the guidance counselor’s office. I hurry past even though I know he won’t see me. I don’t want to take any chances.

  Twenty minutes later I’m standing in the middle of the gym, swinging my arms over and over again. The familiar bright light glinting off Ruby’s red outfit is blinding me. Yup, this moment is just as horrible as it was before. Standing there under the eyes of the coach, of Stephanie and Ruby and the rest of the kids trying out, of the kids who’re already ON the team, I know this feeling of humiliation isn’t something I could have dreamed up, psychic or not. I start to shake again and lower my arms for good.

  On the ride home when Stephanie says she made the team I pretend I hadn’t known and congratulate her. When Dad says he feels like he got hit by a truck I pretend I don’t know what he means. And when I’m faced with the itchy Dorothy costume I grit my teeth and slip it over my head. But when I put on the horrid red shoes, something feels different from before. Up till now everything’s unfolded exactly like I knew it would. I knew that the shoes would be tight when I put them on, but they’re more than tight. They really, really hurt. I pull them off again and examine my feet. Both ankles have blisters on them in the exact spots where the shoes rub against the back of my heels. I hadn’t felt them earlier in my socks and sneakers. I touch the blisters. Ouch! My head starts swimming again. Doesn’t this prove that I didn’t just IMAGINE wearing the shoes before? Doesn’t this prove that I really did wear them? I break out in a sweat. The sweat doesn’t help with the itchiness of the costume.