by Libba Bray
“Jen Appleton, would you like a detention for disrupting career day?”
“You don’t understand, Mr. Jeter. We’re auditioning for Kari’s movie.” This explanation seemed to leave Mr. Jeter dumbfounded. He wasn’t the only one. Jen turned to me. “What did you think? We’ll be even better by your party.”
How could I explain the concept of documentary to Jen? I had to try. “That was…really awesome,” I told her. “But the thing is, um, this movie? It’s a documentary. That means there’s no script or dancing or auditioning. You just show up and be yourself.”
Jen’s fellow drill teamer cocked a hip out to one side. “Well, that doesn’t sound very interesting. Just a bunch of teenagers talking?”
“Think about it,” I said. “You can talk about anything you want to without having somebody tell you it’s out-of-bounds.”
I noticed Jared talking with Mark over by the vending machines. They seemed to be deep in conversation. Jared pointed in my direction. Oh no. Please don’t tell me Jared was throwing me to Mark in retaliation for the Magnolia setup.
“But won’t your parents be lurking?” the girl persisted.
Jen snorted unbecomingly. “There is nothing you could say that would be out-of-bounds in Kari’s house. Her whole family is completely weird.”
I could have held Jen’s head underwater for a full ten minutes. I pretended to ignore her. “My mom will be busy doing the mom thing—checking on the food and making sure the band has stuff to eat. She’s the one who thought to hire Robin’s Hoods, you know.”
“Cool,” said the cheerleader.
“Will your grandmother be stirring the cauldron?” Jen laughed, then turned a simpering smile on me. “Don’t get mad. I’m just kidding.”
Yeah, right. I forced a smile to match hers. “I think she’ll, be pretty busy talking to her casting director friend.”
Jen’s face froze.
“Listen, I’d better get going. Got some stuff I need to take care of,” I said importantly.
And I did, too. Like finding a casting director, hooking up my best friends, and making sure my family didn’t destroy me once and for all.
“Hey, Karnage, I found it.” Jared beamed and held up a 1920s flapper dress for my inspection. “You can look like a mobster’s girl.”
Jared’s car had broken down again. I offered him a ride home if he’d go with me to find my party dress. See, the very thing that most annoyed me about Jared—his uncompromising honesty—was also what made him a great dress critic. Dee or my mom would tell me everything I tried on looked great. But if something made my butt look like a water buffalo, Jared would let me know.
I put the beaded number back on the rack. “Not the look I’m going for.”
Rose, the proprietress, came out from behind her ancient cash register. She had to be somewhere between sixty and death. “What are you lookin’ for, dahlin’?” she asked in a thick southern drawl.
Jared was surprised when I skipped the mall and drove us across town to a great vintage clothing store called Secondhand Rose. It was an amazing place. Like an old Hollywood wardrobe department. Racks of dresses and suits from every era lined the narrow shop.
Lila had been pretty psyched about this turn of events, too. So much so that she offered to pay for the dress. Shock of shockers. I guess she figured there was hope for me yet.
“Something from the forties.” Then I added, “Something Betty Grable would have worn to a sock hop.”
Rose gave a huge, nostalgic sigh. “They don’t make ’em like her anymore. Come here, sugar. I know just the thing.” Rose stepped over a couple of racks and started pulling things. “You about an eight?”
I nodded.
“Try these, honey. You can change right in there, then come out and model for us.”
I shimmied into the first dress. It was dark green crepe. Jared hated it, said it was “too cafeteria lady.”
The second dress was black and filmy. Jared said it was “beyond scary.”
The third was a floral print. Jared said it reminded him of his grandma’s kitchen curtains. I was starting to wonder why I’d asked him along.
The fourth dress had red cherries on a white background, a sweetheart neckline, pearl buttons, and a full skirt. He’d probably hate it, too, I figured, stepping into some red patent leather pumps. I swung open the dressing-room door.
“Well, what’s wrong with this one?” I huffed, blowing a lock of hair out of my face. Jared just stood there, looking at me in a non-Jared way. It was a boy way. As in you-look-like-a-hottie boy way. I blushed. I felt like preening and running to hide in the nearest bathroom all at once.
“Dahlin’, that is the dress!” Rose clapped in appreciation. Jared didn’t say a word, just nodded slowly, then stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to look at some Nehru jackets. It was Jared’s seal of approval. The little bell over the door tinkled, heralding a new arrival.
“Well, hey there, dahlin’. How are you?” Rose said.
I peeked out from the dressing room to see Nan Tatum returning a primo men’s 1940s dinner jacket, total zoot-suit style. I ducked my head back in before she saw me but couldn’t help watching, with fascination through an opening in the curtain. Rose took the return. “You don’t want this?”
“Let’s just say I don’t have anyone to give it to now.” Even with no makeup, Nan was still beautiful.
Rose gave her a piece of paper. “There you go. Store credit. Have a nice day.” The tinkle of the bell signaled the all clear. I took my new party outfit to the counter and handed it over to Rose, who wrapped the dress in layers of tissue paper.
I took a breath. “Excuse me,” I said, pointing to the jacket Nan had returned. “How much is that jacket?”
“Sixty-five dollars. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
Sixty-five dollars? She might as well have said six million. Still, I could just imagine Connor’s face as he opened the package and found it inside. Gut to hugely happy boy. Zoom in on major clinch. Hold on boy professing undying love to girl—who looks fabu in her new cherry print dress.
“Um, you know, I think I’ll skip the shoes and take the jacket instead.”
Rose smiled and wrapped up everything in a polka-dotted shopping bag. It was sort of icky of me, I know, but I couldn’t wait to give Connor his present.
Jared was extra surly on the ride home. I tried to turn things around. “So. Talk to Dee today?”
“Yeah. I talk to her every day.”
“She looked great today.”
“She’s pretty fine. No doubt about it.” Jared poked his head into my glove compartment, looking for gum. He pulled out Lila’s necklace and whistled. “Wow. Are you going to embalm me, too, if I, like, play the wrong radio station or something?”
“I might,” I said, swiping the necklace and throwing it into my purse.
Jared found a stale stick of Juicy Fruit and popped it into his mouth, throwing the wrapper on the floor, which is what he did when he wanted to start a fight. Finally he said, “Don’t you think sixty-five buck? is a bit steep for a guy you hardly know?”
I was tired of treading lightly around Jared. “I know I like him. Why do you have to be such a major pain about everything, Jared?”
“Because I hate to see you throwing this party like you’re trying to win a prize.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like you’ve drifted off into John Hughes land or something. First of all, a documentary is supposed to be an honest, no-holds-barred exploration of an issue.”
“Right. And I’m exploring Sweet Sixteen parties—”
Jared interrupted. “No. You’re packaging your Sweet Sixteen party. You’re using it to try to make yourself seem like somebody else.”
I was really getting steamed. Being honest wasn’t the same as being brutal. “Oh. I’m sorry. Did I break away from the Underachievers Club and leave you in charge?”
Jared snorted. “At least I know who I am. Here you are
, carving your whacked-out family into a bunch of celluloid heroes so you can manufacture a happy ending. Get a grip, Kar. That’s not art. That’s a control freak’s daydream.”
All the blood in my body pooled in my feet. I stopped breathing. It wasn’t a happy ending I was looking for. It was a happy beginning. Why couldn’t Jared see that? I was so furious and hurt, I wanted to leave a mark on Jared’s soul. “At least my dad wasn’t embarrassed by me.”
A muscle twitched in Jared’s jaw, and I knew I had wounded him. It didn’t feel like a victory, though. It felt awful.
I pulled into Jared’s driveway, and he jumped out without saying a word. I watched him make the short walk up his front lawn in the shadow of a house that seemed to dwarf him.
chapter 11
I avoided Jared the rest of the week. I avoided thinking about him and the things he’d said. I didn’t call him, and he didn’t call me. Frankly, I was a lot happier that way. I could focus my energy on the Reeses’ barbecue Saturday night and the much bigger party the Saturday after.
The Reeses introduced me to their friends as “Connor’s friend Kari.” It wasn’t girlfriend, but it would do. Connor’s dad was playing Lord of the Grill. It made me miss my dad. I helped Air. Reese with the food while Connor went inside to help his mom.
Air. Reese was flipping burgers like a pro.
“So I hear you’re the granddaughter of the famous Lila Huntington.”
Even when I thought I’d left my family at home, they followed me like a long, late-day shadow.
“She’s a real kick in the head. I remember after the flood in ’73, she put on some hip waders and went looking for a couple of her snakes that had gone missing. Scared the heck out of the whole neighborhood. How’s she doin’ these days?”
“Fine,” I said, putting a bright copper spin on it. “You have a lovely home, Mr. Reese.”
He put a few hot dogs down on the grill. They sizzled and popped from the heat. “Thank you. It’s mostly Mary Beth’s work. She’s the decorator. You know, I always admired old Lila. And your mom. You know where you stand with those two. They do whatever suits them and don’t worry about what the neighbors think.”
No, they certainly didn’t. That was my job.
“I understand your little brother and sister are real…I individuals, too.”
I swallowed the clump of hamburger in my mouth. “You could say that.”
“How did you end up in that family?” He smiled and I patted me on the back.
Connor strolled across the yard with two glasses of iced tea. He handed me mine.
“Can I borrow Kari for a bit, Dad?”
Connor’s dad waved us on. Connor showed me around the house, then pulled me into a small home office. Silver-framed diplomas hung on every wall. A family portrait loomed over a fireplace. Connor, his mom and dad, and all the grandparents smiled down at me like those pictures that come with a new frame. “I hope my dad didn’t bore you too much,” he said, taking a sip of iced tea.
Boring? “He’s great,” I said. Connor’s whole life was great. I decided this was the moment to give Connor the jacket. I wanted to see his face when he pulled it out and tried it on. “I have something for you.”
Connor gave me a questioning glance. I practically ran to the bedroom where my purse was and grabbed the package I’d spent an hour wrapping. Back in the office I watched him open it. His face was curious. Then shocked. Then glowing. I felt like I should say something. “It’s to replace the one that died.”
“This is the most amazing jacket I’ve ever seen. And you’re the most amazing girl.” Very tenderly, he kissed me. A long, satisfying kiss. I nestled against his chest. His heart kept time metronome style. Mine was beating wildly.
After an intoxicating minute Connor broke away. He slipped on his new jacket and smiled that smile at me. It looked stunning on him. The jacket, I mean. He wore it through the whole evening, even though it was pretty warm.
“I’m never taking it off,” he said, weaving his fingers into mine as he walked me home after dinner.
“Might want to invest in some Lysol, then.” I kissed him on his cheek and said good night. I couldn’t remember feeling this happy, this normal before. It was like freshly laundered blankets, hot cocoa, and a Ferris wheel ride all in one.
Connor Reese. Kari Reese. Kari Dobbins Reese. Great filmmaking name.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, behind all the Ferris wheels and cotton candy, was the voice of Jared, the voice I’d been working so hard to avoid the last few days. The voice wanted to know where I got off giving Connor the jacket his real girlfriend had picked out for him.
When I walked through the door, my house was strangely quiet. Then I heard pounding from the backyard and headed outside. That’s when I saw the tent. The elegant white canopy for my party had become a real, live circus tent. The multicolored kind with little fringe balls hanging off the top. I blinked hard and drew closer to the kitchen window. It was still there. An advertisement for Bolander’s Plumbing ran around one side of it. Bolander’s Plumbing—We’ll Clear Your Pipes and Leave You Flush!
One thing. I’d asked Lila to do one thing—get the white tent from Ever’s Hardware. My family was useless.
The sound of hammering filled the backyard. Rushing outside, I could see all four of the Munsters building what seemed to be an outhouse.
“How was the barbecue, honey?” Mom called out to me.
Lila cut in. “Never mind that. Grab a hammer, Kari Elizabeth. We need an extra hand for the bat house.”
That stopped me. “Why do we need a bat house?”
Lila clucked her tongue at me. “For the shipment of bats, silly. They’re arriving tomorrow all the way from Austin, Texas. Watch my thumb, Theodore.”
I couldn’t even digest that information. I was too fixated on the tent. I pointed to it. “What is that? Where’s my white tent?”
Lila put some nails in her mouth and talked through clenched teeth. “White is so boring. This has character.”
Mom jumped in to play peacemaker. Typical. “We thought it might look more interesting in your movie.”
“Interesting? Mom, it has plumbing ads on it!”
“That’s why we could get it so cheap,” Lila explained.
“Hey, bummer about Levenger’s,” Theo said, pulling out a bent nail.
My mind was reeling. “What about Levenger’s?”
Isis was stamping little bat images on a piece of old two-by-four. “They had a meltdown. All their freezers went out. They’ve canceled all orders for the next week.”
This couldn’t be happening. “So…what are you telling me?”
“No food!” Theo shouted.
“Darkness. Finality. Bleakness,” Isis intoned with every stamp of her rubber bat.
I was screaming inside. I knew it wasn’t my family’s fault that Levenger’s wouldn’t be able to cater my party, but I couldn’t believe they weren’t as panicked as I was. They just hammered away like it was any other day of the week instead of a full-blown crisis moment.
“Time-out!” I screamed. The hammering stopped. “I cannot have my friends over with this tent in the backyard. Please, please, please go down to Ever’s and pick up the white one. I’m begging you.”
Lila put her hands on her hips. She was exasperated. “This is a perfectly good tent, Kari Elizabeth.”
Mom interrupted. “Maybe if we hang some lights on it…”
I was so frustrated that tears welled up in my eyes. They didn’t understand. My voice was hoarse with tears. “Just once, I’d like for everything to be nice. Like when Daddy was…” I looked up at the starry sky and blinked to keep the sobs back. “He would have gotten me the white tent. Just because I wanted it.”
Isis caught my eye. She was ready to cry, too. Mom kept kicking at the grass.
“It’s just a stupid tent, Kari. Don’t have a cow,” Theo said. I could tell he was mad I’d brought up Daddy.
“Fine,” I said, stor
ming toward the back door. “I’ll take care of it myself. Along with the food. And everything else in the world.” I let the screen door slam hard on its hinges and tried to remember that this was the day Connor Reese had kissed me.
Breakfast was unusually subdued at the Dobbins household. Lila took off the minute I walked in. That was fine with me. Mom sat at the kitchen table, reading a New Age rag and nursing a cup of tea. She handed me the number for Tokyo Joe’s. Not this again.
“What’s this?” I asked robotically.
“Lila talked to Joe last night. He said if you tell him what you want, he’ll make it. Barbecue chicken. Ribs. Corn.”
“A cake shaped like a big fish?” I couldn’t help the dig. I was still raw about the tent.
Mom held her cup with both hands and stared into its depths like she was asking it the meaning of life. “A cake shaped like a cake.” She nodded toward the menu that had a phone number scrawled on it. “That’s his home number.”
I felt a big surge of relief after I talked to Joe, who was totally nice about the whole thing and reasonable, too. Maybe I’d wear Lila’s necklace around the house for a while today as a token of goodwill.
I was about to sit down to breakfast myself when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” I screamed, secretly hoping it was Connor. Then I remembered the bed-head crisis. “On second thought, Isis, can you get that?”
Without a word, Isis plodded to the door, cereal bowl and all. A minute later she said it was for me. Panicked, I grabbed Mom’s old baseball cap off the counter to cover the terror that was my hair. When I got to the door, a man was standing there in a sports jacket.
“Hi. I’m Walter Garland from the Greenway Gazette. Are you Kari Dobbins?”
“Yes,” I said hesitantly.
“Kari, my daughter Vanessa is in your class. She told me about this documentary you’re doing. We thought it might make a nice story for our Lifestyles section. Would you be interested in having the Gazette come to the party to profile you and snap a few pictures?”
He could have been asking if I wanted to be on the cover of Seventeen. Maybe he wasn’t a casting director for the WB, but a splashy story was just the sort of coverage I needed to make my application rock. A few lines of newsprint and voila! Instant somebody.