What the— ?
“—Happy birthday to you!” The last few notes of the song ended, as the pounding on the front door continued. A massive birthday cake, three tiers of pink, white, and silver, sat on the coffee table in the center of the parlor, along with a formal tea service and white linens. Lena blew out the candles, waving the smoke away from her face, where seconds before there had been billowing flame. Her family burst into applause. Back in my Jackson High sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like any other sixteen-year-old.
“That’s our girl!” Gramma put down her knitting and started to cut the cake, while Aunt Del scurried to pour the tea. Reece and Ryan carried in an enormous stack of presents while Macon sat in his Victorian wingback chair and poured himself and Barclay a scotch.
What’s going on, L? What just happened?
Someone’s at the door. They’re just being careful.
I can’t keep up with your family.
Have some cake. This is supposed to be a birthday party, remember?
The pounding on the door continued. Larkin looked up from his thick triangle of red velvet cake, Lena’s favorite. “Isn’t anyone goin’ to get the door?”
Macon brushed a crumb from his cashmere jacket, looking calmly at Larkin. “By all means, see who it is, Larkin.”
Macon looked at Lena and shook his head. She wouldn’t be answering the door today. Lena nodded and leaned back into Gramma. Smiling over cake like the doting granddaughter she really was. She patted the cushion next to her. Great. It was my turn to meet Gramma.
Then I heard a familiar voice at the door, and I knew I would rather face anyone’s gramma than what was waiting outside the door right now. Because it was Ridley and Link, Savannah and Emily and Eden and Charlotte, with the rest of their fan club, and the Jackson basketball team. None of them were wearing their daily uniform, Jackson Angels Tshirts. Then I remembered why. Emily had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. The Reenactment. I realized Lena and I had missed most of it already, and now we were going to fail history. By now, it was all over, except the evening campaign and the fireworks.
Funny how an F would seem like a big deal on any other day.
“SURPRISE!”
Surprise didn’t even begin to describe it. Once again, I had allowed chaos and danger to find its way to Ravenwood. Everyone crowded into the front hall. Gramma waved from the couch. Macon sipped his scotch, composed, as always. It was only if you knew him that you knew he was about to lose it.
Actually, come to think of it, why had Larkin even let them in?
This can’t be happening.
The surprise party, I forgot all about it.
Emily pushed to the front of the group. “Where’s the birthday girl?” She held her arms out expectantly, like she was planning to give Lena a big hug. Lena recoiled, but Emily wasn’t that easily deterred.
Emily looped her arm through Lena’s like they were long-lost friends. “We’ve been plannin’ this party all week. We’ve got live music and Charlotte rented these outdoor lights so everyone can see, I mean the grounds of Ravenwood are so dark.” Emily dropped her voice as if she were discussing selling contraband on the black market. “And we have some peach schnapps.”
“You have to see it,” Charlotte drawled, practically gasping for breath between words because her jeans were so tight. “There’s a laser machine. It’s a rave at Ravenwood, how cool is that? It’s just like one a those college parties over in Summerville.”
A rave? Ridley must have really pulled out all the stops for this one. Emily and Savannah throwing Lena a party and fawning over her like she was their Snow Queen? This must have been harder than getting them all to jump off a cliff.
“Now, let’s go up to your room and get you ready, birthday girl!” Charlotte sounded even more like a cheerleader than she normally did, always overcompensating.
Lena looked green. Her room? Half the writing on her walls was probably about them.
“What are you talkin’ about, Charlotte? She looks just gorgeous. Don’t you think so, Savannah?” Emily gave Lena a little squeeze and looked at Charlotte disapprovingly, like maybe she should lay off the pie and put some effort into looking that gorgeous.
“Are you kiddin’? I would just die for this hair,” Savannah said, winding a strand of Lena’s hair around her finger. “It’s so amazingly… black.”
“My hair was black last year, at least underneath,” Eden protested. Last year, Eden had dyed the underside of her hair black, leaving the top blond, in one of her misguided attempts to distinguish herself. Savannah and Emily had teased her mercilessly, until she dyed it back a whole day later.
“You looked like a skunk.” Savannah smiled at Lena approvingly. “She looks like an Italian.”
“Let’s go. Everyone’s waitin’ on you,” Emily said, grabbing Lena’s arm. Lena shrugged them off.
This has to be some kind of trick.