Last Year's Mistake - Gina Ciocca Page 0,14
designer bags in place, like they were modeling them. Must’ve been nice to have gainfully employed parents.
I remembered the days when Maddie couldn’t even wear earrings because her ears would get infected, or drink milk because it made her sick. Now she had three piercings in each ear, plus a tiny diamond stud in her nose, and her stomach had no problem at all with frequent vodka ingestion.
“Hey,” Eric said before I could open my mouth. “Do you mind if we invite the new kid to the party this weekend?”
An awkward laugh that Maddie tried to pass off as happy surprise skittered from her throat and she wound her finger into the green and white fabric of her dress. “Oh! You’re coming, Kelse? That’s great.”
I bit back my response of Am I invited? to spare myself her inevitable and insincere Of course! Instead I twirled the frayed hem of my jean shorts and asked, “Will Sloppy Ho be there?”
Maddie’s lips thinned. “Kelsey, you really need to stop calling her that. Everyone is over it.”
During the summer Maddie had started dating Jared Rose, younger brother of Norwood’s sophomore queen bee, Isabel. That was the start of Maddie’s metamorphosis. Her hair, her makeup, her party girl reputation—none of that resembled the Maddie Clairmont I’d been friends with since first grade. The one who, like me, didn’t make a full-time job of impressing people. Lately it was like she’d tried on some sort of Isabel Halloween costume and forgotten to take it off.
Anyhow, on the first day of school, I’d stood behind Isabel in the lunch line and Maddie stood behind me. My blood had come to a slow boil as I pushed my tray toward the register, listening to Isabel and the girl in front of her ruthlessly pick on the freshman exchange student.
“She has a mustache,” Isabel’s friend said with a shudder. “There’re, like, things you can do for that. Fucking do it already.”
“And she’s a moron.” Isabel stopped texting long enough to wave her hand in disgust. “I’ve heard the place you’re conceived affects the person you become. Her parents must’ve done it on a toilet bowl, because she’s dumb as shit.”
They burst into laughter, and that was it. Before I could stop myself, I rammed my tray into Isabel’s as hard as I could. It bumped against her mammoth purse, which slid off her shoulder and hit the edge of her tray, catapulting the contents of a sloppy joe sandwich all over the bag, which probably cost more than a year’s worth of lunches.
She’d given me a lifetime supply of evil eyes since then, claiming I’d done it on purpose. Which, of course, I had. She and her friends practically hissed at me every time we passed in the halls. In return, I called her Sloppy Ho behind her back.
But the worst part? The way Maddie had rushed to Isabel’s defense and not mine. The way she was doing right now.
“And of course she’s invited,” Maddie continued. “You can bring David if you want to, but don’t start any trouble.”
My mouth dropped. We might not have been on a level playing field anymore statuswise, but I didn’t deserve to be lectured like some punk from the wrong side of the tracks. “Why don’t you get your head out of your ass, Maddie? Or maybe I should say out of Isabel’s a—”
“Hey!” Eric laughed as he pulled my arm. “No catfights in the hall. Here, kiss and make up.” He propelled me toward Maddie, and I took two stumbling steps in her direction before snapping out of his grip.
“On second thought,” I said, looking right into Maddie’s eyes, “I think I’ll skip the party.”
I turned around and shoved past Eric, knowing I was headed in the wrong direction but not willing to sacrifice my dramatic exit or my pride.
“What about David’s birthday?” he called after me.
I didn’t turn around. “I’ll figure it out myself.”
The moment I stepped off the school bus that afternoon, I hurried into the kitchen, tossing my book bag along the way. I needed something I could whip up in a hurry for David. I reached into a cabinet and grabbed a cookie sheet, deciding baked goods was the way to go.
“Kelsey?” Mom called as the metal clanged its way onto the counter. “What are you doing?”
“I need to use the oven. Today is David’s birthday and I didn’t have a gift. I want to make chocolate chip cookies.”
“I have balloons left over from Daddy’s birthday. Do