Ashley-Leigh giggled appreciatively and embraced me in another familiar, perfumed hug. “Katie, I’ve really missed you!” This declaration had a distinct ring of sincerity to it, and I suddenly felt gratified to be here— among the happy normal.
“Yeah, me too.” I smiled, really meaning it. We used to be so close before the catastrophe-that-was-my-life struck, leaving a steep chasm between our two worlds.
There was an awkward pause where we surreptitiously checked each other out as all girls do. She was artfully done up, wearing a coral-colored, sleeveless shirt half-tucked into the front of her short-shorts, and chunky heels that brought her up to about my height. An assortment of silver bangles, that tinkled merrily when she fluttered about, completed the outfit. She was the epitome of a cool girl. Pity entered her eyes as she took in what she considered to be my poor choice of outfit. I tried hard not to feel blah standing next to her in my brown skirt.
She broke the ice again. “Okay, birthday girl, come on in. We’ve got a little somethin’ for ya, and I’ve just been dyin’ to give it to you all day!”
I allowed her to tug me into the beige-on-cream living room decorated gaily with Barbie-pink balloons. A store-bought birthday cake, with a number seventeen crushed in the middle, was next to a glossy bag with ribbons curling out like permed hair.
“Happy Birthday, Katie!” They chorused together. I colored, uncomfortable being the center of attention, no matter how small the occasion.
“Thank you,” I simply said, blinking back tears. I really was touched. Birthdays were left up to me now. So tomorrow I would cook my own dinner and bake my own birthday cake. A jelly jar with wild flowers the boys picked for me would likely be the only gift I would receive.
“My dear, you are more than welcome,” said Mrs. M, handing me a crystal flute filled with what I hoped was sparkling cider.
“Oooh! Champs! Thanks, Mom—you’re the best!” Ashley-Leigh turned to me glass up while Mrs. M filled her own glass from a bottle that read Moet & Chandon. Okay then . . . not sparkling cider.
Even though I knew my father would have a cow (ha-ha), I shrugged my shoulders. Why not? . . . When in Rome. A pang shot through me when I recalled the last time I’d last heard that phrase. Gah! Why couldn’t I just forget them? This was my birthday celebration, and I was bound and determined to enjoy myself, dang it! I would not dwell on a single encounter with a couple of stuck-up jerks I would never see again.
My reluctance toward the champagne had a sudden reversal, so I raised my glass and took a tentative sip. The bubbles tickled the back of my throat going down. So this is how the other half lives? I felt a smile playing on my lips as I watched Ashley-Leigh (who’d already downed half hers) refuel with a wink while her mom fussed with the cake.
“Okay . . .” Mrs. M dramatically cleared her throat before raising her glass. “Here’s to the other Lee in my life, my Katie Lee . . . I only wish your mother was here to celebrate with us,” she said, tearing up a bit. I wiped a tear from my own eye, trying to hold it together.
“Mooom!” Ashley-Leigh groaned. “It’s s’posed to be a celebration!”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, honey.” She faced me again, reclearing her throat. “Happy Sweet Seventeen!”
“I think that’s sweet sixteen, duh,” Ashley-Leigh corrected.
“Not when it pertains to Katie.” Mrs. M smiled while I dipped my head. “May you always be as young and beautiful as you are today!” My cheeks were still burning when she finished, “And may you never get crow’s feet . . . at least before you bag yourself a rich husband!”
“Yeah! Happy Birthday, baby!” Ashley-Leigh clinked her glass with mine, sloshing out golden fizz all over the coffee table. I immediately mopped it up with my napkin before it dripped onto their new carpet.
“Oopsie!” Ashley-Leigh giggled. “Come on! Let’s get you ready!”
I didn’t let up from my cleaning detail, so she yanked on my arm. “Just leave it . . . Mom will get it. Let’s go try on your new outfit!”
“Yes, yes. You two girls go on. I’ll clean this up in a jiffy.” Mrs. M clacked back in wearing neon-yellow gloves over her white-tipped nails. “Go on, Katie. Ashley-Leigh’s been waitin’ all day for this.”
I still felt unsure but obediently relinquished my soggy napkin before following Ashley-Leigh up the stairs and into her very spacious, very decorated room. It came complete with a custom window seat for reading I’d also coveted since I was a little girl.
“Heeeey!” Ashley-Lee whirled around, triumphantly wielding the champagne bottle she’d nicked from downstairs. Like her mom wouldn’t notice. “Happy Birthday, BFF!” She tried refueling me, but I put a hand over my glass, noticing my nails were all different kinds of short. “Suit yourself—more for me,” she sniffed.
It seemed I’d already managed to put a little dent in our happy reunion. It wasn’t that I was a goody two-shoes; it was that I simply didn’t dare be irresponsible. Driving was a crucial function for me, so I couldn’t afford a DWI—in more ways than one.
After a couple of moments of silence and finger taps on her phone, music danced into the room from a box as remarkably small as it was cute. Cool. As usual, everything in her room was cool. I wandered over to the bulletin board and was unsurprised to find our old pictures gone and replaced with clumps of smiling new friends engaged in various stages of teenage debauchery Her calendar was equally full, bleeding pink ink with her busy social and cheerleading schedule. Any leftover space was wallpapered with posters of boy bands and sultry men ripped from magazine cologne ads.
She noticed my quiet study, and our eyes locked. A guilty look fled from her face before she chirped brightly, “My favorite picture of us is right here, see?” She pointed toward an old picture of us doing the spider on her swing set. It was still clinging there, half covered by a poster of an underwear model with a suspicious-looking bulge.
Ah—that pretty much exactly covered the status of our friendship.
“Okay!” she trilled, providing an accompanying drum roll. Leave it to Ashley not to allow the awkward silence to linger. “Open it!” She tossed the candy-colored bag into my arms, and I hugged it to me for a moment. A lot of my father’s distaste for charity had rubbed off on me. “Go ahead . . . dig in!”
I was actually curious despite myself, although was sure whatever it was would be inappropriate and therefore render itself completely useless in the padding of my thin wardrobe. But I hated to disappoint them when they went to so much trouble for me, so I would try to be a good sport. Puffing out some air, I burrowed inside to find the hidden treasure, my face, I was sure, nearly as neon as the bag. What I pulled out was scarcely enough material to make up half an outfit.
“Do you like it?” I could tell Ashley-Leigh’s excitement quotient was about ten times greater than mine.
“Um, yeah. Thanks.” Her face dropped, so I added, “A lot. It’s really cool. Thanks again, Ash!” I hugged her and started to place the shorts and the frothy pink thing back.
“Whad’yathink you’re doin’?”
“Puttin’ them back in the bag for safe keepin’.”