Read 11 Birthdays for Free Online

better.”
    “Why did you pick it then?” she asks, adjusting her long red wig.
    “I didn’t pick it. Mom did.”
    “Look at it this way, at least you don’t have to worry about anyone else dressing like Alice in Wonderland.”
    “I’m not Alice in Wonderland!”
    She wrinkles her brows. “Who are you then?”
    I hold up the wicker picnic basket. “I’m Dorothy? From
The Wizard of Oz?”
    She snaps her fingers. “That’s right! I see it now. I used to love that movie.”
    Figures.
    . . . . . . . . . . .
     
    The guests start arriving a few minutes after seven. The Disney princesses are well-represented. The boys seem to be either Freddy Krueger from the
Nightmare on Elm Street
movies or baseball players from
Field of Dreams.
Two girls are wearing the Fiona costume I had wanted and I eye them with jealousy. Tracy and Emma are Oompa-Loompas. They look amazing in white overalls, brown T-shirts, and orange faces. Plus, I think most of Emma’s outfit is edible. She pulls a Hershey’s Kiss off her belt and presses it into my hand. Two girls from fifth period English are dressed as characters from the movie version of
Hamlet
that we watched in class last month. Stephanie is an elf with pointy ears and a long silvery cape.
    “What movie are you from?” I ask, taking the gift bag from her hands.
    “Lord of the Rings.
I’m Arwen.”
    “You look great,” I tell her, even though I’ve never seen the movie. Mom said it’s too violent for me. I would argue,but after being terrified by a SpongeBob balloon, I’m pretty sure she’s right.
    Dad insisted on dragging himself out of bed and manning the CD player, which really could just man itself. He’s wearing the cowboy costume Mom rented for him. Every few minutes, he has a sneezing fit and his hat flies off and everyone in the room stops talking. It’s highly embarrassing. Mom is wearing a Cruella de Vil outfit. She looks good in black. She keeps answering her cell phone though, and it’s getting annoying. I understand she has a really important job, but what could be so important on a Friday night? During your daughter’s birthday party?
    Dad spent a lot of time burning CDs of movie theme songs, but they’re not really danceable. Everyone’s mostly standing around eating chips and M&M’S. After what feels like an eternity of making small talk, I glance up at the clock. It’s almost 8:00, and half the people aren’t here. Only three of the boys I invited have shown up. Dad was supposed to organize the games, but he’s sitting down on the couch, a glazed expression on his pale face. Kylie disappeared long ago.
    I pull Stephanie aside and whisper, “Where is everyone?”
    She looks around the room uneasily. “I’m not sure.” I have the feeling she knows more than she’s saying. I squeeze her arm. Hard.
    “Okay, okay. I think they went to Leo’s party instead.” I release my grip. “Oh.”
    “On top of everything else, he supposedly has some big football player there. You know, giving tips on throwing and stuff.”
    My head swims with this new information.
    “Um, Amanda?”
    I don’t answer.
    “Um, would you mind a ton if I went, too? Just for a little while? I’ll come back, I promise.”
    At first I think she’s kidding. “But you don’t even like football.”
    She looks down at the carpet. “It’s just that Mena and Heather and Jess and the rest of the girls who made the gymnastics team are there, and if I don’t go it wouldn’t look good. I want them to know I’m a team player. You know how it is.”
    “I guess so,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t crack. I just want to go upstairs and cry. I tug hard at my collar, which is so scratchy it has made my neck red and blotchy. I want to ask since when is Leo friends with those girls, but I don’t really want to know.
    Stephanie gives me a quick hug and slips out just before Mom brings out my cake. I make the same wish I made at lunch over the cupcake. I wish I had never walked by