“Not a three, that’s for sure.” Christy tossed it back at Brittany.
“Here,” Janelle said. “I brought a dress and a skirt. Do you want to wear one of mine?”
“Throw me the skirt. I’ve got a couple of T-shirts. I’m sure I can find one to wear with it.” Christy zipped the skirt up with no problem.
“A three,” she muttered to herself. “Nobody wears a three. A size five, maybe, but not a three.”
The girls quickly put on their makeup and did their hair.
“You should use more eyeliner,” Brittany told Christy. “Try this one,” she said, handing Christy a container. “It’s Plum Passion. It would look good on you.”
“Purple?” Christy exclaimed. “I don’t know …”
“Here, I’ll do it,” Janelle said, and she and Brittany both went to work on Christy.
When they stepped away and Christy saw her image in the mirror, her first reaction was, “Yuck!” But she didn’t want to hurt her friends’ feelings as they admired their handiwork. Her eyes looked squinty with the thick mascara and heavy liner. She felt ridiculous. Like a toddler with Mommy’s makeup on.
Then someone knocked on the door, and it was too late to change anything. Uncle Bob, dressed in a tan sports coat and navy blue slacks, whistled through his front teeth. “Wowie kazowie! You gals look great. We’d better get out of here, though. It smells like a perfume bomb just exploded in your room!”
They laughed and met Marti in the hallway. Christy had to admit her aunt was a classy woman. She always looked just right for the occasion. Tonight her soft, cream-colored silk dress shimmered in the light, and her diamond necklace and earrings sparkled brightly.
“Christy,” Marti said, eyeing her makeup, short skirt, and sandaled feet, “I don’t suppose you brought your blue dress with you, dear. You know, the one I bought you this summer at Macy’s.”
“I didn’t think to bring it.” Actually, after her dad’s comments over the dress last Sunday, she had stuck it in the back of her closet and decide to leave it there until she was at least eighteen.
“Is that the only skirt you brought?” Marti prodded.
“Actually, it’s Janelle’s. I packed in such a hurry, I didn’t think to bring anything really nice.”
“Well, we plan to do some shopping tomorrow, anyway. Now we’ll know what to look for first.”
Christy shrank into the backseat of the car as the other two girls, in their crisp, perfect-for-the-occasion dresses, chatted away. Christy hated it when her aunt made her feel this way: scruffy, like a well-used rag doll. It was bad enough last summer, but now, in front of her friends, it was even worse.
When no one was looking Christy licked the waxy-tasting lipstick off her lips and ran a finger across each eyelid, wiping off the Plum Passion as best she could.
At the dimly lit Italian restaurant they went over the extensive menu, asking Bob what everything was. On her uncle’s recommendation, Christy ordered the fettuccine. It sounded so exotic, but when the waiter set it in front of her she thought, This looks like squished, milky spaghetti. That’s kind of how it tasted to Christy’s unsophisticated tastebuds too.
A man in a tuxedo playing a violin stepped up to their table. Uncle Bob asked him to play some song with an Italian title that Christy had never heard of.
The musician smiled and nodded. Then, tucking the violin under his chin, he began to play. Slowly at first, then vigorously, he pulled the bow back and forth, putting his whole heart into it. Christy found herself holding her breath on the last few high notes as if she were squeezing them out of her lungs along with the musician. He ended as dramatically as he had begun and then drew his violin under his arm and bowed low.
“Bravo!” said Marti.
“Molto bello!” exclaimed Bob and slipped the artist what Christy thought looked like a twenty-dollar bill.
The man smiled and nodded; then, taking Marti’s hand, he kissed it. He moved to Janelle and did the same thing. She giggled and looked at Christy, who was next in line.
Christy thought it was a little embarrassing but very exciting at the same time. The musician barely brushed his lips across the top of her hand. She turned to see how Brittany would react to the gracious gesture, but Brittany was gone.
“She probably went to the bathroom,” Janelle suggested.
In the ten minutes that followed, Christy sloshed the fettuccine around on her plate and ended up eating another piece of garlic bread before deciding she was full.
“Do you suppose your friend is all right?” Marti asked.
“I’ll go check on her,” Christy offered.
“I’ll go with you,” Janelle said. As they walked away from the table, Janelle said softly, “She’s probably throwing up. She’s on this weird diet. I think she’s too skinny.”
“I know,” Christy agreed. “She told me she takes her mom’s diet pills.”
Suddenly Christy remembered the prescription bottle of diet pills Brittany had given her. She still had them in her purse, which was back at the table. I’ve got to throw those things away, she thought.
They found Brittany standing by the sink, combing her hair.
“I think I’m going to try another brand of hair spray,” Brittany said. “The one I use now is drying my hair out too much.”
Christy noticed a clump of hair in the sink. Brittany squirted her wrists with perfume and asked, “Is everyone else finished?”
“Almost,” Christy said. “We came to check on you. You okay?”
“Of course.” Brittany laughed nervously. “I’m ready for dessert!”
“Brittany,” Janelle sounded like a parent, “you didn’t just throw up, did you?”
Brittany lowered her voice and raised her eyebrows, looking innocent. “Of course not! Why do you ask?”
“Brittany! Tell me the truth. Are you done with your diet or are you still taking laxatives and stuff?”
“No, I’m not on a diet anymore, honest. I was only saying that dessert sounds good to me tonight.”
Christy couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.
Janelle seemed convinced. “I think we’d better get back. They’re probably ready to go.”
Marti suggested that, instead of returning ot the hotel, they park the car and do some window-shopping. A wonderfully warm desert breeze twirled around them as they strolled past brightly lit window displays. Janelle came up with all kinds of jokes about the things they spotted in the windows, practical necessities like black leather miniskirts and stainless-steel pasta makers.
She still had them laughing when they got back to the hotel. Christy pulled the key to their room out of her purse and thanked Uncle Bob for the fun evening and good dinner.
“My pleasure, ladies,” he said. “I’ve got an eight o’clock tee-off, so I’ll probably grab a donut in the coffee shop. Maybe you girls would like to sleep in and have your breakfast out by the pool. They have a buffet brunch, don’t they, Marti?”
“I think it’s only on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Well, if you girls get hungry at anytime, give room service a call,” Bob said. “We’ll see you sometime tomorrow, then. Good night.”
“Sweet dreams!” Marti said.
The three of them changed into their nightshirts, and Janelle said, “I’m too hyper to just watch TV. Let’s put our bathing suits on and go swimming!”
“I don’t think we can,” Christy said. “Doesn’t the pool close at ten?”
“Maybe if we’re real quiet they won’t know we’re in there,” Janelle said with a giggle.
“Oh, right!” Christy said. “Three girls jumping in the pool. That’s going to be real quiet.”
“Then let’s go walk around the lobby,” Janelle said.
“In our pajamas?” Christy asked.
Janelle kept trying to convince them to think of something fun to do, and Christy kept coming up with excuses for why they couldn’t do any of Janelle’s crazy ideas. To Christy’s relief something Br
ittany said prompted Janelle to start asking Brittany questions about Kurt.
Propping pillows against the headboard, Janelle quizzed Brittany. “I saw you talking with Kurt last week after school. Are you going to start going out with him again?”
“Are you kidding? I was telling him to get lost. He turns my stomach. What about you and Greg?” Brittany asked Janelle. “What’s happening with him?”
“Not much. He did talk to me a couple of times last week. But he only flirts with me when there aren’t any junior or senior girls around. I like him, but he almost scares me, you know what I mean?”
“He scares you?” Christy asked.
“It’s like he’s always a step ahead of me. I look at him, and I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. He’s very mysterious and untouchable. I like that, but it also scares me. And speaking of untouchable guys, Christy, do you have any updates on Rick?”
Christy didn’t say anything. She looked at Brittany for her reaction. Brittany looked her usual cool self. Christy decided now was the time to get everything out in the open about what Brittany had been telling her about Rick.
“Brittany, why did you say that Rick was interested in meeting me and that Janelle was giving you all the inside information?”
“That’s right,” Janelle joined in. “I heard you were saying some stuff about Rick that I never said. I want to know where I got all this detailed information that I supposedly passed on to you. Rick never asked about my slumber party or who Christy was.”
Brittany sat perfectly still on the bed, her legs crossed under her. Her facial expression didn’t change, but it seemed to Christy that Brittany’s mind was spinning behind those steady eyes, trying to come up with the right answer.
Brittany jumped up from the bed. “Oh no! I think I left my curling iron on!” Sprinting into the bathroom, she closed the door.
“Oh, now that was convenient,” Janelle said. “Why can’t she just admit she’s wrong and move on from there?”
“Should we go check on her?” Christy asked.
“No. She has to come out eventually. Sometimes she’s a real case,” Janelle said.
“She has some problems,” Christy said, keeping her voice low. “We have to try to be fair. You know about her parents splitting up. Her dad is never home. I feel sorry for her. I think we should try to help her.”
“I guess you’re right. I should be more understanding. But why did she make up all that stuff about Rick?”
“I don’t know.” Christy shrugged and glanced over at the closed bathroom door. “There’s no point in even talking about Rick. You were the one who said you thought Rick was going out with Wendy.”
“I don’t know. I thought they were, but I guess he’s the kind of guy who likes to play the field. He’s a sweet talker, if you know what I mean. He can get any girl he wants, and he knows it. I guess nobody really knows what’s going on inside the head of Rick Doyle.” Janelle stretched out and made herself more comfortable with a pillow stuffed under her arm. “What about that guy you met last summer?”
“Todd?”
“Whatever happened to him?”
Christy took a deep breath. “I have no idea. The little sweetheart hasn’t written me at all. I’ve sent him at least five letters. Somehow, I don’t feel like it’s over, though. I keep hoping I’ll see him again someday.”
“He sounded like the perfect dream guy.”
Christy glanced up at the painting on the wall behind the bed and smiled. “He is. Todd is one of a kind. I’ll never forget him.” Her eyes misted over with tears, and as she blinked all the wildflowers in the painting began to run together in a swirl of smeared pastels.
“There’s nothing wrong with liking two guys at the same time, Christy. Or a whole bunch of guys, for that matter,” Janelle said. “My mom says this is the time of our lives when we should go for as much attention as we can get. We should be the ones who decide who we go out with and not wait around for the guys to decide if they’re interested in us.”
Christy blinked back the tears. “That could be, but it sure helps if at least one of those guys likes you back.”
Janelle laughed. “Well said, Christy, well said. Now, if only Greg would ask me out and Rick would ask you out, then we could go on a double date!”
“Oh, right. Like that would ever happen.”
“It could happen. Like for homecoming next weekend.” Janelle’s eyes took on their exotic glimmer. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Christy was noticing that fun seemed to be Janelle’s favorite word—or at least the motivation for most of her decisions.
The bathroom door opened, and Brittany walked out, cool and composed. “Is anybody hungry besides me?” She opened the room service menu on the dresser and began reading the list.
Christy and Janelle exchanged wary looks, and Christy wondered if they should say anything to Brittany.
“A hot fudge sundae—$9.50!” Brittany squawked. “And look at this: soft drinks—$4.50! What a rip off!”
“I don’t think I could order anything with a clear conscience, knowing your uncle had to pay for it,” Janelle said.
“He doesn’t mind,” Christy said. “Money doesn’t mean the same thing to him that it does to my family.”
“Hey, you guys, we still haven’t done anything fun tonight. Don’t you just feel like doing something wild?” Janelle asked.
“Like what?” Christy asked cautiously.
“I don’t know. Like running up and down the hallway.”
“I think I saw some vending machines at the end of the hallway,” Brittany said. “Let’s go and get a candy bar and a soda. It’ll be cheaper than ordering from room service.”
“I don’t know if we should,” Christy hesitated.
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun.” Janelle was already standing up, ready to go.
“Should we go like this? In our nightshirts?” Brittany asked.
“Not me!” Christy said. “I’m putting on my jeans.”
The others did the same, quickly dressing in a haphazard fashion.
“Let me get the key and some quarters,” Christy said.
“Wait a minute!” Janelle ran into the bathroom. She emerged with the shower cap on her head and a bath towel wrapped around the outside of her clothes. “Now I’m ready!”
Brittany and Christy burst into laughter. It felt good to have the earlier tension with Brittany gone. Janelle opened the door and held her hand over her eyebrows, like a trail scout looking up and down the hallway.
“Okay, fellow adventurers,” she said in a deep voice. “The coast is clear.”
Repressing their giggles, the three girls clumped together and toddled down the hallway. They made it to the vending machines before anyone saw them and quickly pooled their quarters. They had enough for a candy bar each and one soft drink, which they decided they would split back in the room.
The vending machine made a loud rumbling noise as it dropped out the can of soda. Janelle pressed her index finger to her lips, saying, “Shhhhh!” to the machine.
The other two giggled as they huddled together, and in unison all three looked down the hallway.
“What are we hiding from?” Christy asked.
“Shhhh!” Janelle motioned again. Then with exaggerated tiptoeing, Janelle led the way back to their room. Suddenly they heard voices behind them and turned to see a young couple who had just gotten off the elevator and were heading in their direction.
“Hurry!” Janelle ordered, breaking into a dash for their room.
They were almost to Bob and Marti’s door when Janelle let out a “Yikes!”
Christy ran to their door. She jammed in the key, turned the handle, and ducked inside as the other two pushed their way in behind her. She quickly slammed the door, and they all started laughing.
Christy pointed to Janelle. “What happened to your towel?”
“I lost it in front of your aunt and uncle’s door! That’s why I panicked.”
> “We’ve got to go get it,” Christy said. “We can’t leave it there!”
For almost a full minute they squabbled over who would retrieve the towel. Finally Brittany settled the argument by stating, “All right, you cream puffs. I’ll go get the towel.”
Slowly they opened the door and looked to the right, to the left, and then they looked down at their feet. Someone had already picked up the towel, folded it neatly, and placed it in front of their door.
“One thing I can say about this hotel,” Janelle said, snatching up the towel and quickly closing the door. “The maid service here is incredible!”
The next morning Brittany was the first one up, and she was brimming with energy.
“Wake up, you sleepyheads,” she called. “Anyone interested in a morning jog?”
Janelle threw her pillow at Brittany. “Go away! It can’t be morning yet.”
“It’s almost eight-thirty,” Brittany sang out. “The day is slipping away while you two sleep.”
“Wake me when it’s noon,” Christy said, pulling the covers over her head.
“I’ll wake you deadheads when I get back.”
Christy grunted and drifted back to sleep. She woke up with a start when the phone rang a short time later. It was Aunt Marti telling them to meet her for breakfast in half an hour at the Sundance Coffee Shop in the lobby.
Brittany returned from her morning jog, perspiring and breathless, and the three of them scrambled to get ready in time.
“I didn’t know you were really going jogging,” Christy said. “I don’t think you should’ve gone out like that.”
“Oh, I just went around the hotel. I was perfectly safe,” Brittany said, applying her mascara with a shaky hand.
“Come on, you guys,” Janelle hollered from the door. “Your aunt is probably waiting.”
“What? No shower cap this morning?” Christy teased as she slipped past Janelle. The three of them hurried to catch the elevator.
Aunt Marti stood waiting in the entrance of the coffee shop. Right next to her stood the young couple from the night before. The three girls suppressed their giggles and kept their heads down.
As soon as they were seated, Aunt Marti laid out their plans for the day. They would spend some time by the pool relaxing and then go shopping; dinner would be at six-thirty at Bob’s favorite Mexican restaurant.
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