Sweet 16

by Kate Brian

  "So?" young Teagan said. She whipped a credit card out of her wallet. "It's on Daddy."

  "You are so bad!" Lindsee said.

  "Wanna see bad? Here." Young Teagan grabbed all three cell phone cozies out of their hands and dumped them on the counter. "Gifts for my friends," she told the saleslady with a smile.

  "Teagan! Don't!" Maya protested halfheartedly as she eyed the cozy with a certain lust in her eyes.

  "Please! It's my birthday and I want to do something nice for my friends," young Teagan said. "Besides, we have to have these. Everyone at school is going to lust after them."

  "Your dad is going to kill you!" Lindsee said gleefully.

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  "Like he'll ever even notice," young Teagan said.

  "We used those things for about a week," Teagan told the ghost with a shudder. "So gauche."

  "Four hundred dollars' worth of gauche," the ghost said flatly. "Plus tax."

  As the saleslady went about busily scanning, folding, and packing, young Teagan surreptitiously checked her watch. Teagan saw her younger self bite her bottom lip. Then, the moment she noticed Lindsee watching her, she glanced away and tossed back her hair.

  "Oh yeah," Lindsee said, sliding toward Teagan at the counter. "Don't you have that lame-ass party to go to this afternoon?"

  Young Teagan threw off a blithe little laugh. "Lindsee! Please! We haven't even hit the shoe department yet!"

  Okay, I totally suck, Teagan thought, picturing Emily standing at that window.

  The saleslady announced Teagan's total --over three thousand dollars --and young Teagan slapped the credit card down without pause. She signed the receipt with a flourish and her friends helped her tote away her many bags. Teagan and the ghost followed them out of the department store and into the bright and shiny mall.

  "You know what we should do?" Ashley said, her eyes bright. "We should hit the new Haagen-Dazs! I'm starving."

  Young Teagan put her hand over her flat stomach. "God, Ashley! I've already had, like, three hundred calories today! Make me yak!"

  "I need to sit down," Teagan said, dragging herself toward a bench at the edge of the food court. She dropped her purse

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  on the floor and slumped, her legs splayed out in front of her. Yet another perk of being invisible. There was no way in hell she would ever strike this particular pose in public.

  "What's the matter, Teagan?" the ghost asked, sitting down next to her and primly crossing her legs at the ankle.

  "What's the matter!?" Teagan flipped up her head, her hair cascading down her back. Major head rush. She squeezed her eyes shut until it passed. "Did you not see that?" she blurted, holding her forehead in her hand. "I'm awful! I mean, did you see how depressed Emily was? I couldn't have just gone over there for an hour even? What was wrong with me?"

  "You had moved on. Just not to better things," the ghost said patiently. "You wanted Lindsee and the others to be your friends from the moment you stepped through the doors at Rosewood. This day, you found a way to make that happen."

  "What do you -- his

  Teagan stared at the ghost as she suddenly remembered. She remembered calling Lindsee that morning and asking her to go shopping. She remembered how Lindsee had said she had other plans with Ashley and Maya. She remembered the panic that had set in at the idea of being rejected. She remembered telling Lindsee that she had her father's credit card -- how she had implied that they could all use it. Half an hour later, Lindsee, Maya, and Ashley had all shown up at her door, ready to go. Had she really bought her current friends? Would any of them be hanging out with her today if not for that shopping spree?

  How could the ghost know about all this?

  The ghost took a deep breath of the greasy, salty air, sitting up straight and closing her eyes. "Dear God, it's been a long time since I've had a cheeseburger," she said, letting it out.

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  Teagan's stomach groaned. "Tell me about it," she mumbled, feeling light-headed.

  "S. You ready for your next stop?" the ghost asked.

  "Not really," Teagan replied, slumping lower.

  "Too bad!" the ghost said perkily. She threw her arm over Teagan's shoulders and then they were off.

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  GOSSIP PAGE

  Weekly Poll

  By Laura Wood, Senior Writer

  This week, we asked one hundred students what they would be getting sophomore and it girl of the moment Teagan Phillips for her birthday. Hate to spoil the surprises, Teagan, but some of these we just had to print.

  Viola Fellini, senior: Ugh. As a senior, I think I should be exempt from attending sweet sixteens.

  Janice Bennet, junior: I'm thinking three Shelli Segal dresses, all the same style but different sizes. That way if she drops some of the baby fat or, you know, bloats up, she'll still be able to fit into at least one of them.

  Shari Marx, sophomore: She gave me a gift certificate for a makeover. I might give her a gift certificate for a gym.

  Max Modell, sophomore: I haven't decided yet. Maybe a framed picture of my new head shot?

  Tyler Rascoe, sophomore: I already put in my order at Trashy Lingerie. The whip should be arriving any day now.

  Maya Reynolds and Ashley Harrison: We can't tell you! It's a surprise!

  But it's gonna be really good,

  Christian Alexi, sophomore: American Express gift cards. That way if they get stolen, no one else can use them. They're the gift of the responsible consumer.

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  "Aw yeah, baby! It's getting hot in here now!" Shay shouted into his microphone, raising one hand into the air.

  Teagan whirled around. She was back in the center of her sweet sixteen. The dance floor was slamming with people and apparently, Shay had decided to keep up with the cheesy DJ act.

  If I were alive, I would totally stop payment on his check, Teagan thought. But she didn't dwell too long. Finally she had her chance to check out the scene she had worked so hard to create. She stepped to the side of the dance floor to take it all in.

  All around the room, models posed on their personal stages, looking bored. Teagan saw Trey Duncan trying to talk to one of them --Bonnie, if memory served --but the girl, adhering to her instructions for the night, ignored him. Teagan had been very specific with her directives to the models. They were there to pose and to show off her clothes. No fraternizing. Couldn't blame Trey, though. Bonnie did look

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  hot in Teagan's black mini flapper-esque design with the feathers at the bustline. Even in the insanity, Teagan couldn't help but admire her own design.

  "Nice one," the ghost said, following her gaze. "You're good."

  "I know," Teagan said. Then she saw the ghost's disapproving glance and rolled her eyes. "I mean, thank you. God. Is it so bad to have self-confidence?"

  "Self-confidence is one thing. Major ego is another."

  "All right. All right," Teagan said, waving her hand.

  Everyone on the dance floor was gathered around in a haphazard circle, watching somebody get down in the center as they clapped along to the beat. Unbelievable. It was like no one had even noticed she was gone. Hello? Whose party was this?

  Shari Marx scurried toward the crowd in her Jimmy Choos and before Teagan could get out of the way, Shari slid right through her.

  Every inch of her body exploded with white-hot pain. Her eyes burst. Her heart stopped. Her skin sizzled and burned right off, leaving only charred bone. Teagan staggered backward into the ghost's arms, screaming in panic.

  Oh God! This is death! Teagan thought wildly, sweat pouring from her skin. Shari Marx just killed me all over again.

  Her eyes rolled wildly and somewhere her brain registered that she had not, in fact, been incinerated. She could still see her body intact; she just couldn't make herself believe that she had survived a sensation like that. Desperate, Teagan tried to suck in some air, but her lungs wouldn't respond.

  "Cal
m down, Teagan. Just breathe," the ghost said, patting her on the back. "You're still here. Sort of."

  Suddenly Teagan's chest expanded as her throat and lungs

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  filled with air. She coughed and staggered toward a deserted corner of the floor.

  "What was that?" she asked, holding her hand to her chest. Gradually the heat started to fade, leaving her skin humming.

  "I know. Freaky, right?" the ghost said, pulling a face.

  Teagan shot her a patented look of death, but then a huge cheer went up on the dance floor, distracting her from the homicide at hand.

  "What's going on over there?" she asked, forcing herself to stand up straight. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

  "I don't know. Why don't you go find out?" the ghost asked.

  "Oh no," Teagan said. "I am not walking through all those bodies. No way."

  The ghost rolled her eyes. "Wuss."

  She slapped her hand on Teagan's shoulder and they instantly reappeared in the center of the circle. Teagan's jaw dropped when she saw the scene that had captured everyone's attention. Lindsee and Max were getting it on right in the center of the circle. Her hips ground against his as they lowered themselves toward the floor and back up again. Lindsee threw her arms in the air and swung her head back and forth, shimmying away like the second coming of Xtina. She turned around and bent over, rubbing her butt up against Max's midsection. All the guys in the crowd cheered and whistled. It was like something out of Skinamax.

  "Omigod. Get me a hose," Teagan said. She glared around at her so-called friends. "Doesn't anyone here care that he's my boyfriend? Hello? It's my sweet sixteen! Shouldn't I be out there with him?"

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  "Damn. That girl can drop it like it's hot," the ghost said.

  "Oh, please. Do not try to sound hip. You're just embarrassing yourself," Teagan said. "Why the hell did you bring me here? Do I really need to see this?"

  "I thought you wanted to check in on your ultimate creation," the ghost reminded her.

  Melissa Bradshaw, reporter extraordinaire, circled the couple with her camera out, grinning as she snapped away. Not only was everyone Teagan knew witnessing this spectacle, but come Wednesday morning, when the new Sentinel was released, they would all have full-color photos to remember it by.

  Of course, the article would probably be accompanied by her obituary, so maybe it was actually all relative.

  "To tell you the truth, I just wanted to see how the Maya- Ashley fashion show was playing out," the ghost said. Then she grinned. "Ah! There's Maya now!"

  Teagan glanced across the circle and saw Maya emerge with a curious expression. She was wearing a tasteful black bias-cut dress with a one-shoulder top. Teagan had seen her in it a hundred times, but she had to admit her friend wore it well. Maya caught a glimpse of the disgusting display on the dance floor and stalked right into the center of the circle.

  "Lindsee! What the hell are you doing?" Maya demanded, grabbing Lindsee's arm and yanking her away from Max.

  Teagan was stunned. She had never seen Maya talk back to Lindsee about anything. Ever. Let alone confront her first.

  "Dancing. God! What's your problem?" Lindsee asked as Max continued to try to dry-hump her side.

  "What about Teagan?" Maya demanded. "This is her party and you're slobbering all over her man!"

  "Ooooh!" a few members of the crowd chorused.

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  "Nice!" Teagan cheered.

  "Dial it down a notch, Maya," Max told her, looping his arm around Lindsee's waist. "You're gonna shatter glass."

  "Besides, no one's even seen Teagan in, like, half an hour," Lindsee said with a shrug. "She's probably busy looking in a mirror somewhere."

  "Ugh!" Teagan shouted. "You backstabbing bitch!"

  Maya looked like she was about to blow, but obviously trying to get through to Lindsee and Max was pointless. It was clear that they only had eyes for each other from that moment on. Maya whirled around indignantly and her jaw dropped. Following her gaze, Teagan and the ghost turned to find Ashley, having just elbowed her way to the center of the circle, wearing not the same dress as Maya but one that was damn similar. Black. Skimpy. Strap on the opposite shoulder.

  The ghost cracked up laughing. "What is with these girls?"

  Teagan watched in dismay as both Maya and Ashley turned around and smashed their way back through the crowd.

  "You guys! It's not the same dress!" Teagan shouted, but it didn't matter. They couldn't have heard her over the music if she had actually been there.

  "I don't believe it," Teagan said finally, turning to the ghost. "I can't believe Maya actually defended me against Lindsee."

  "Sometimes it takes a crap situation to find out who your real friends are," the ghost said. "You know, like death."

  "But I practically ignored her," Teagan said, letting the ghost's lame joke slide by. "And Lindsee and I picked on her and Ashley behind their backs all the time."

  "Yeah. Maybe you shouldn't have done that," the ghost said,

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  patting Teagan on the back. "Maya may be kind of vain and a bit of a follower, but she's a good person. And Ashley's the one who came up with the idea for that killer present they made for you. Which, by the way, did take them weeks to put together."

  "Really?"

  "Yep. And then you completely forgot about it the second you saw they were wearing the same thing and realized they might put a minor cramp in your big night," the ghost said. "Really nice."

  "Oh God. Ashley even called me to sing 'Happy Birthday' this morning and I totally blew her off!" Teagan said, covering her face with her hands. "You're right. They are good friends."

  The ghost nodded. "Lindsee, on the other hand . . .was

  She trailed off as she looked back toward the Lindsee-and- Max Show, which was getting hotter and heavier by the second.

  "I can't take it anymore." Teagan shook her head. Two feet away, Max pulled a very willing Shari toward him and made himself the meat in a Shari and Lindsee sandwich. "Do we have to be here?"

  "Thought you'd never ask," the ghost said.

  She took Teagan's arm and whisked her away.

  Teagan rematerialized in Emily's living room again, but this time the atmosphere was much more subdued. Glancing around, she saw that she was back at Emily's house and that the place was packed with people in full-on black. Black dresses, black suits, black shirts, black bags. Emily's dad talked with a priest near the window, whispering and nodding. A pair of middle-aged women in the corner hugged as one of them

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  dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Emily's mother walked in from the kitchen, her face wet with tears, and placed a tray of cookies in the center of the coffee table. Everyone whispered and followed Mrs. Zeller with their eyes.

  "What's going on? Who died?" Teagan asked.

  The ghost clucked her tongue and shook her head.

  "What? It's a valid question," Teagan said. "What happened?"

  Then her eyes fell on Emily and for a moment, Teagan couldn't speak. Emily looked . . . old. Not wrinkled and sun- spotted old, but older. Any baby fat had fallen away from her face, leaving high cheekbones and bright eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and she was wearing a flattering black pantsuit. She looked pretty. Sophisticated. And very, very sad.

  "Is this the . . . the future?" Teagan asked, her knees feeling weak.

  "Yep," the ghost said. "Six years ahead, to be exact."

  "Wow. Wicked," Teagan said. Then her heart skipped a beat as she recalled how freaky it had been to see her twelve-year-old self. "Am I here? What do I look like?"

  The ghost rolled her eyes. "Just focus, would you?"

  Gary walked into the room, wearing a suit and looking much like he had in the last visit but with shorter hair. He sat down next to his sister on the couch, dropped his arm around her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze.

  "This is my fault," Emily said, staring straight ahead. "I
should have been here. I would have been able to help."

  "Emily, come on," Gary said, his voice soothing. "What were you going to do? Not go to college? What would that have solved?"

  "I could have helped her!" Emily said, raising her voice. "I would have done something!"

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  The already-hushed room fell eerily silent. Emily noticed everyone staring at her and looked at her lap, trying hard not to cry. Gary pulled her to him and she leaned her head on his shoulder, the tears dripping silently down her face and wetting the lapel of his jacket.

  Teagan noticed a kid of about twelve at the other end of the couch, his foot bouncing up and down as he stared stoically into space. His brown hair was mussed and his shirt was two sizes too big. He wore a red tie that was so short it looked like it had been bought for an eight-year-old's first communion.

  "Ricky? Do you want anything to eat?" Mrs. Zeller asked him, leaning in.

  "No. Leave me alone," Ricky said, his voice thick.

  Teagan knew that voice. She knew that tone. That had been her once. Right after her mother had died --she had sounded just like that. It was all she needed to hear to understand, finally, what was going on. It hit her with the force of a wrecking ball and she gasped, backing into the wall. That was little Ricky at the end of the couch. This was Catherine's funeral. Emily's aunt Catherine. Ricky's mother was dead.

  "Oh my God," Teagan said.

  "Ricky? Come on, honey, I know you're upset, but you have to eat," Mrs. Zeller said, reaching for his knee.

  Ricky jumped out of his chair like he'd just been hit with a hot poker. "I said leave me alone!" he screeched, anger spewing from his every pore.

  He turned and ran out of the house, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. Teagan felt every single ounce of his pain. Suddenly it was as if her mother had died all over again. She experienced the anger, the confusion, the utter, hollowing loss like it was yesterday.

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  "I'll go," Gary said, pushing himself up. Emily leaned her elbow on the arm of the couch, sniffling hard.

  "What happened?" Teagan asked, holding her hand over her stomach. "How did she die?"

  "She overdosed," the ghost said, her eyes rimmed with red. "She had been in and out of programs for the past few years, but nothing worked. Ricky came home from school and found her in the bathroom."