Masquerade

by Jessica Burkhart

  “Stop! There! Click!” I tapped the tablet screen. “That’s it! That’s my dress!”

  Khloe clicked, and new page loaded with a larger image of my dream dress.

  “That is so beautiful, Lauren! Omigod!” Khloe pulled on my arm.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the computer screen. The light pink dress had spaghetti straps and was covered in sequins in random sizes and sprinkled across the dress with no discernible pattern.

  “I love how there are more sequins around the waist that look like a belt and how they gather all around the hem of the dress too,” I said.

  “There’re such pretty colors, too,” Khloe said. “White, black, gray.”

  “I’m so, so happy we found it. Add it to the cart before it disappears!” Khloe selected my size and put the dress in our cart. We found shoes and clutches to match our dresses before placing the order with my emergency credit card. I’d already asked Mom and Dad if I could use it for my party outfit and Khloe’s, and they’d agreed. Khloe, though, had insisted on paying me back.

  I let out a giant sigh, happy that my dress was ordered. Khloe sent the e-mail with dress links to Lex, Clare, and, Jill.

  “Now we get to pick out masks,” I said.

  Khloe wiggled her eyebrows. “I think we should do them on our own computers and not show them to each other until we get dressed on party night.”

  “I love that idea! The party is supposed to have mystery, after all.”

  BIRTHDAY GENIE

  KHLOE PLUGGED IN HER IPAD TO CHARGE and grabbed her party planning notebook. “Before I look for my mask,” she said, “mind if we talk details?”

  “Of course!”

  “For space, I’m going to ask someone in administration whom I need to speak with about booking the ballroom for that night.”

  “The ballroom? Whoa.” I tried to imagine Canterwood’s stunning ballroom decorated just for me.

  “Where else, silly?” Khloe asked, giggling. She kept writing. “We’ll need the space. I’ll talk to Zack about one of his friends DJing. We’ll have room for food and drink tables, dancing, and presents in the ballroom.”

  “Speaking of presents, I’ve been thinking about that already.”

  “Your present wish list is my command,” Khloe said. “Tell me.”

  “Can I?” I asked, motioning to Khloe’s iPad. She handed it to me.

  I opened a new tab on the Internet and typed in a Web address. I handed the iPad back to Khloe.

  She stared at the screen, silent. “Um.” Khloe shifted, scratching her forehead. “Laur, I know I promised you a perfect party, but I don’t think I can make this happen. Even if all the guests and I pooled every bit of allowance we had, we can’t afford a racehorse.”

  I burst into laughter. I laughed so hard my shoulders shook, and tears ran down my cheeks. Khloe looked at me like she was a step away from calling Christina for a straitjacket for her roomie.

  “Khlo,” I said, “I don’t want you guys to buy me a racehorse! Omigosh, I’d be the biggest, most selfish brat if I asked my friends to get me a racehorse for my birthday.”

  Khloe shook her head. “I’m so confused.”

  “Did you scroll down?” I asked. “Look.”

  I leaned over the iPad, looking over her shoulder at it with her. I pointed to the “Donate to Our Charity” heading.

  “OH!” Khloe slapped a hand over her forehead. Now it was her turn to laugh. “You had me totally freaked! First, I thought ‘Omigod, I can’t get LT what she wants!’ then I thought ‘LT’s replacing Whisper?!’”

  “If I did that, it would make me the biggest snob in our grade. Probably in the whole school.”

  “Or all time,” Khloe added, grinning.

  “This is what I want more than anything, though,” I said. “I have everything I need. I really do. I want to help horses who are coming off the track from injuries or age and are being retrained to be pleasure horses, companions—whatever.”

  “This is such a great idea. I’m not just donating on your birthday. Next time I really think I ‘need’ that dress from Express, I’m giving money to this charity.”

  “We just know how much it costs to take care of one horse. And we don’t even have to worry about electricity bills, water costs, stable repairs—all of that. I can’t imagine the cost of keeping a dozen or more horses and not taking a penny for them. They’re all up for adoption here. It’s up to the adopter how much, if anything, they donate.”

  Khloe wrote Donate to horse charity under Presents. “I’ll make sure everyone who comes knows that this is what you want.”

  “Ooh, so guest list!” I said.

  “I’ve got a special notebook for that.” Khloe looked through a stack of notebooks and pulled out a pink one with glitter purple polka dots.

  “Do you want an inclusive invite-only party? Or do you want to invite everyone in the seventh grade?”

  “Everyone. Don’t you think? It seems kind of fifth grade to not invite people, and the more people who come, the more money I’ll get for charity.”

  Khloe made a notation. “Def agree. Plus, you pretty much know everyone in our grade, anyway!”

  I got up and walked to our mini-fridge. “Soda?” I asked Khloe.

  She rolled her brown eyes to the ceiling. “Umm . . . Orange Crush, please.”

  I grabbed a Sierra Mist and handed Khloe her soda. We popped the tops and I held up my can, motioning for Khloe to raise hers.

  “To my BFFL, Khloe Kinsella. Not only the best roommate, greatest friend, and most fun person I’ve ever met, but a superstar party planner.”

  “Aww. Geeze, LT. That was so nice.” We clinked our cans together. I truly couldn’t have gotten a better roommate. Plus, Khloe knew how to make a party Canterwood worthy—something I didn’t feel confident I could do on my own yet. The last thing I wanted was a birthday celebration faux pas.

  “Since we know we’re going to invite everyone and we just talked about guests, want to work on the invitation?” Khloe asked.

  “Love to.”

  “I don’t want to wait too long, because I have to order the invitations from Print Factory and I want to make sure the paper quality is perfect, the font is what we want, and that the colors aren’t off.”

  I touched Khloe’s arm. “Hey, I don’t want you spending money on this. I figured we’d do e-vites and my parents would cover decorations and anything I wanted. You shouldn’t spend your money, Khlo. You’re doing more than enough by organizing the party.”

  Khloe held up a hand. She pointed to it. “Talk to this. Take a deep breath and repeat after me, ‘I, Lauren Towers, am relinquishing all control of my party to the very capable blonde with ultraglossy hair. I am only allowed to help when asked by aforementioned shiny-haired girl.’”

  I was laughing before Khloe even finished.

  “I—” I couldn’t get the words out; I was laughing too hard.

  She stared at me, raising an eyebrow. “What is so funny, missy? The part that I’m very capable? Or . . .” Khloe mock-gasped and covered her mouth. She widened her eyes, looking horrified. “That I don’t have gleaming hair?”

  I giggled harder, and Khloe grinned. Bowing my head, I held up both hands, palms facing Khloe. “I turn over all party planning aspects to my beyond-competent roommate, who has blindingly shiny hair. So much so that it rivals the sun!” I looked around the room. “Have you seen my sunglasses?”

  Khloe laughed. She leaned over so she could see herself in the full-length mirror. “I do need to get a gloss treatment done. BUT, that’s not the point. Let’s start on the invite.”

  Khloe got up and grabbed her laptop. She opened the royal purple computer, and a photo of Ever made up the wallpaper. The bay mare wore a bright yellow halter that made her black points look even darker. Her ears pointed forward, and she looked happy.

  “I love that picture,” I said. “Where’d you take it?”

  “Last year when I took Ever home for the summer. The arena
behind us is the place we worked out in Boston.”

  “When we’re not party planning, I want to hear more about your stable there. I don’t know much about it.”

  “I’d love to tell you,” Khloe said, but I could tell from her tone that she was only half paying attention to me. She opened Word, started a new document, and opened the pull-down menu for fonts. “I think something elegant. Agree?”

  “Definitely. Let’s look.”

  We huddled over her computer, scrolling through fonts.

  “Nope,” Khloe said.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Too bold,” Khloe said with wide eyes.

  “Too bubblegum-y.”

  “Hmmm,” Khloe said. “Maybe this one.” She wrote the name in her notebook. “Want to pick a few and choose from those? Or even do a mock-up and change it to each font we want to try?”

  “Great idea. Let’s do that.”

  We kept looking and—

  “That’s it!” we shouted simultaneously.

  We grinned at each other and selected the font. Together, we drafted and redrafted the invitation until it was très parfait.

  You are cordially invited

  To Lauren Towers’s thirteenth birthday party! It’s a masquerade party, so don’t wear anything less than your absolute best. Saturday, October 31, at 7 p.m. will be a night of mystery, music, and more. The party will begin in the ballroom, and a few outdoor activities will be optional . . . unless you’re too scared.

  As a special note, if you are intending on gifting the birthday girl, she has a request: Please make a donation to Safe Haven for Thoroughbreds. No amount is too small, and all proceeds go toward caring for retired racehorses in rehabilitation.

  Hope to see you on Halloween night to celebrate Lauren’s turning 1-3!

  RSVP to Khloe Kinsella, party planner to the stars, at khloekinsella@canterwoodcrest.com. All of those who are attending will need to e-mail with a “yes” by October 25.

  We stared at the invitation, then turned to each other, slapping palms. “I love it! Khlo, you did an amazing job!”

  “Thanks, L. But it was a team effort.” Khloe flipped to a page in her notebook with Invitations written on top. She checked off Write invitation. “Want to log on to Print Factory and choose paper and other options?”

  I nodded. “This is so much fun. Maybe I want to be a party planner. Or,” I laughed, “I just love planning events for myself and my friends.”

  “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” Khloe said. She logged on to Print Factory, and it didn’t take long for us to talk through our ideas for the invites and have a mock-up ready to send for printing.

  We’d chosen black rice paper with silver text. It looked like Halloween—haunting and beautiful. I’d never seen a cooler invitation.

  “I think it’s good to go,” I said. “Looks like it’ll take a day to process, and since we’re ordering so many, it’ll ship in two days.”

  “Perf,” Khloe said. “Enough time to make sure the invites are what we want and for Lex and Jill to pass them out. They volunteered to be on handout duty.”

  Better friends didn’t exist.

  “Do you want to take a break?” I asked. “Or keep going?” I didn’t want Khloe to feel like she had to work on this project forever.

  “I’m so into this, if you are.” Khloe picked up a stack of magazines and set them in front of us. “Want to decide on decorations and color scheme?”

  “Hmmm . . .” I pretended to think. “Yes! I’ve got ideas, but nothing concrete.”

  Khloe got up and opened our pantry door. “Looking for candy,” she explained. “I’m kind of glad, actually, that you don’t have anything superspecific in mind. I’d like it to be a little bit of a surprise for you. But all while keeping the look and colors you want.”

  Khloe emitted a satisfied noise and pulled out bitesize Three Musketeers, mini peppermint patties, Tropical Skittles, and a king-size package of strawberry Twizzlers. She put the candy in a plastic lime-green bowl we’d found online at Target and put it between us as she sat down. She opened and bit into a peppermint patty as I opened the Tropical Skittles and put a few in my mouth.

  Khloe picked up a different notebook—this one silver with hearts—and wrote Decorations across the top of the first page.

  “Tell me everything that comes to mind—colors, furniture, even food, I guess—and it’ll give me an idea of what you want. Or if you’ve seen a party that you loved in a movie or read about it in a book, tell me and I’ll rent the movie or read the book.”

  I tilted my head to smile at her. “You do realize you’re the best roommate at Canterwood, right? I can’t even begin to try to tell you what this means to me.”

  “Oh, don’t try,” Khloe said. “Save it for later when I need favors.” She winked. “Okay, go.”

  I took a breath. “I’m thinking about the color scheme being deep purple, black, silver, and a touch of orange. The orange wouldn’t have to be anything more than a few pumpkins in the room, but I think it’ll add that Halloween ambience we want.”

  Nodding, Khloe kept writing.

  “Nothing like streamers or ‘Happy Birthday’ banners. I want the feel to be incredibly glam. Everyone will be dressed up, and I think the ballroom should reflect the clothes. It should feel so luxurious.”

  “You mentioned pumpkins,” Khloe said. “Maybe we don’t carve them, but instead leave some orange, and get some spray paint. We could paint some silver and purple, and a few could be orange with a clear glittery glaze.”

  “That’s a great idea!”

  Khloe and I talked through the rest of the decorations, and I left most of the final decisions up to her. That made Khlo happy, because she was set on having as much as possible of the party a surprise.

  “Last detail for now,” Khloe said. “Cake.”

  “What do you think about cupcakes?” I asked, uncrossing my legs and stretching. “More specifically, strawberry cupcakes with vanilla icing.”

  “A girl who knows what she wants. Love it,” Khloe said. She finishing writing and closed her notebook, and we smiled at each other.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” I said. “You’re going to do a crazy-awesome job. Can it be Halloween already?”

  “Um, no. I need a least a few days to get this put together, thank you.” Khloe stood, reaching out to pull me up with her. “Now you have to wait and I get to plan!”

  I hadn’t been this excited about my birthday in a long time. I felt like a little kid waiting for Christmas. It wasn’t going to be easy not to peek at what Khloe was doing. But I had to be a good roommate and respect her privacy. Unless a notebook, somehow, fell open in front of me, I was going to have to wait three long weeks.

  ALWAYS FORGET YOUR UMBRELLA

  RAIN PELTED THE ENGLISH BUILDING, causing tiny streams to run down the sidewalks. Of course it would pour like this on a Monday. I stood inside with Clare, students passing us and opening umbrellas when they stepped outside. A mini umbrella peeked out of Clare’s purple-and-white-striped messenger bag.

  “This is what Khloe and I get for not checking the weather this morning,” I said.

  Clare made a face. “No umbrella?”

  “Nope. Neither of us brought one.”

  “Give me your phone,” Clare said, holding out her hand. “I’m downloading an app for you.”

  I fished my BlackBerry out of my bag and handed it to her. “Ooh, do you know about one that’ll turn my phone into a raincoat?”

  Clare smiled, clicking a few buttons, then handed me the phone. “Unfortunately, it won’t help you this time. But it will chime with a heads-up the next time it’s about to rain.”

  “Thanks! That’s so cool.”

  Clare and I smiled at each other. Things had been so different between us—among all of us—since Riley’s sudden departure last week. Clare and I hadn’t had much time to hang out one on one. In the time we had spent together, Clare had been a different girl
. Like now—she was funny, smart, superfriendly, and not waiting for Riley to come along and tell her what to do or make her feel bad for talking to Khloe or me.

  “Maybe you, Khloe, and I can all fit under my umbrella,” Clare said, taking it out. I looked at the sky-blue umbrella dotted with tiny colorful somethings.

  “What are those?” I peered closer.

  “Oh, check it.” Clare undid the snap and shook out the umbrella. It was covered in My Little Ponies.

  “Aw! It’s so you!” I said. It reminded me off the stuffed ponies and other animals on Clare’s bed.

  “I was so excited when I found it at Target,” Clare said. She blushed, shaking her head. “I actually bought two—the other’s at home—in case this one gets blown out.”

  We both giggled. “I would do the same if I found something that cool.”

  Clare put down her stuff, freeing her hands. She twisted her long red waves into a messy bun.

  “My hair’s going to be three times this size when I go outside,” she said. “Humidity. Awesome.”

  I groaned. “Tell me about it. Oh! I’ve got this EBT—essential beauty trick—that helps. I’ll BBM it to you after class.”

  “Major hearts!”

  The hallway was almost empty now. I realized Clare and I had been talking nonstop since we’d left English. With Riley out of the equation, Clare and I suddenly seemed to have more to talk about.

  So . . . ,” I started, then stopped. “I don’t want to pry or anything, but how are you?”

  Clare leaned on her shoulder against the wall. She took a breath, and I knew that she understood exactly what I was asking. “You’re not prying. We’re becoming better friends, and friends talk about this stuff.” Clare rubbed her forehead. “It’s been tough. Confusing. Not anything that I expected, so I guess that’s what’s making it so complicated. Riley was my best friend. I can’t remember a time when we weren’t doing everything together at Canterwood.”

  I nodded, my heart panging with sympathy for Clare.