past him.
I almost never agree with my brother, but this morning, I know he’s 100% right.
The minute I get to my room, Dad tells me to sit down.
I sit cross-legged on my bed and look at my parents who are standing up cross-armed. I have never felt so small, and they have never looked so big.
Dad clears his throat. “Mallory, Mom and I are extremely upset with you,” he says.
I look down at my bedspread. “I know,” I say in a soft voice.
“We trusted you,” says Mom. “And you broke that trust in many ways.”
I look down and focus on a spot on my bedspread. I wish I could be that spot and not me right now. I don’t know what to say to my parents.
But they seem to know exactly what to say to me.
“Mallory, we are disappointed in you,” says Mom. “You asked if you could have a sleepover party, and we said yes. We told you that we expected it to be a nice night with a few friends. We told you that we wanted your help in making sure the party did not get out of hand. When you asked if you could invite more people than we had in mind, we said yes. And when extra friends showed up at the last minute, we very nicely told you we understood and that it was your birthday and it was OK.”
Mom starts pulling back fingers as she talks like she’s keeping a tally of all the things that I asked for and that they gave to me. “You asked for new pajamas, and we got you those. You told us what you wanted to do at the party, and we said OK to everything.”
Mom recrosses her arms and tucks her hands around her sides like she’s done counting because there’s no sense in even trying to keep track of all the nice things they did for me.
“Mallory, we did everything we could to make your party exactly what you wanted it to be, and I don’t understand how you could have let things get so out of hand.” Mom stops talking and looks at me.
Even though I’m glad she’s done, at least for the moment, in a way, I wish she’d keep going. I know I did so many things wrong, and I’m not even sure what to say to my parents.
Neither of them says a word. It’s my turn to talk, and I know it.
“Mom, Dad, I’m really sorry about everything that happened at the sleepover.”
Mom and Dad just look at me like what I said is nice, but it doesn’t begin to explain things. I take a deep breath. I know I owe my parents an explanation. I think back to when Mary Ann and I first started planning the party. Even though Mary Ann wanted everything to be big, big, big, I knew Mom and Dad wanted me to keep things small.
“Mallory, we’re waiting,” says Dad.
I know I don’t have a choice. It’s time to start explaining.
“I didn’t mean for the party to get out of control,” I tell Mom and Dad. “When Mary Ann and I first came up with the idea of having a sleepover, it seemed like a good idea. When I talked to you about it, I know you wanted me to plan something small and nice with just a few friends.”
I pause. I want to get my words right. “I didn’t think that would be hard. But Mary Ann had different ideas. She thought everything needed to be big to be fun. She wanted to invite a lot of people. And once the party started, it was like everything just kind of got out of control.”
My lips feel dry, but I keep talking. “I know we shouldn’t have made a mess in the kitchen or had the water balloons in the house. I know I should have gone to get Crystal once things started to get out of hand. But Crystal was supposed to be the babysitter and she shouldn’t have gone outside to talk on her phone.”
My throat feels tight, but I know I have more explaining to do. I tell Mom and Dad that it was Arielle and Danielle’s idea to decorate Pamela. “I know they shouldn’t have done it, but it was like one thing led to another and before I could stop them, they were laughing, and they just kept doing it.”
I think before I say what I’m about to say next. “And the biggest problem is that Mary Ann is my best