Authors: Amy Holder
"Maybe," she says with a smile. "Your 'rents bought everything. I just worked my decorating magic while you chowed down on Italian food."
Melanie had gone out of her way to make my day extra special at school, too. Walking up to the colorful happy birthday banner she made for my locker was an amazing reminder of just how far I've come from the tampon graffiti days. She and the girls even presented me with a cookie cake at lunch. They provoked half of the cafeteria to help them sing "Happy Birthday" to me. Of course, that half of the cafeteria didn't include the Lipstick Lawlords. However, that half of the cafeteria did include Mr. Hottie-Body Brentwood ... and that's all that counts!
We proceed into the dining room. A pink, glittery sweet sixteen sign is hanging from the chandelier. It eerily reminds me of Britney's drag queen bedroom. My mom picks up a small box wrapped in girly pink and white flowered paper from the pile of gifts.
She hands it to me and says, "This one first."
"Car keys?" I wink slyly.
My dad laughs sarcastically. "Right."
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You don't even have your license yet, April," my mom reminds me.
"Okay, so I get the car after I get my license?"
She looks at my dad and protests, "Your father and I never had cars in high school."
Aaden crosses his arms defiantly. "That's because cars didn't exist back then!"
I laugh. I've heard this argument ever since my brother got his license last year. Apparently, he's sick of tagging along with Jeffrey Higgins. Jeffrey's goat laugh is probably getting to him.
I go ahead and open the small present only to find a note inside.
"Aw, how thoughtful," I say. "A treasure hunt!"
The only other time my parents set up a birthday present treasure hunt was for my sixth birthday. They hid the bike I wanted in the storage shed outside. The giant purple bow that decorated the handlebars stayed on my head for the rest of the day.
"Well ... read it, Bean," my dad says.
I hold the clue up and clear my throat playfully before reading. "Go to the place where you lay your head. You'll find your next clue under your"—I fill in the blank as I rush up the stairs—"bed!"
I peek under my bed and grab the second box. I open it quickly to reveal the next clue.
"Now go down the hall to your sacred room. Your next clue is where you choose to groom."
I dash to the bathroom and look in the towel chest, tub, and tissue box. Finally, I find the third wrapped box in the cabinet under the sink, next to my wild mane supplies.
"You're getting closer; just two more clues. Look for your next hint where you keep your ... shoes?" I blurt as I run to my closet, finding a box tucked in a sneaker.
"You'll find your last clue somewhere downstairs—tucked in Dad's favorite chair." This fourth clue leads me to the recliner in the family room. I find the box wedged between the arm and the cushion and rip it open.
"Go to the room that's underground. That's where your present will be found!" I read slowly.
Looking at my parents, I ask, "The game room?"
My mom shrugs with a smile. "I don't know; you'll have to check it out."
My family and Mel follow me to the basement door. A bolt of anxiety hits me as I turn the lights on to walk down the stairs. I'm praying that no one jumps out at me screaming, "Surprise!" I picture myself tumbling down the stairs like a slinky after a horde of bratty kids spray Silly String in my face.
I close my eyes to protect them as I reach the bottom step.
It's cold ... cold and quiet. The only sound I hear is Aaden snickering at the top of the stairs. I open one eye slowly to find an empty game room. I look back at my parents curiously.
"Take a look around, April," they prompt me.
Melanie nods excitedly.
I walk cautiously around the pool table. I look under it, and then I make my way to the bar area. As soon as I step past the bar stools, someone comes flying out from behind the couch across the room, scaring me to bits.
I cover my head like I'm practicing a bomb drill.
Everyone laughs. Then, I hear a familiar voice...
"Happy birthday, Apes!"
"Lee!" I shout, jumping to tackle her with a bear hug. "How'd you get here?"
She giggles. "Told you you'd have a big surprise on your birthday. I wasn't lying!"
After jumping around excitedly for a good five minutes, I am drawn to the pendant around her neck. I had given her the star necklace before she moved. Her goal is to one day have a star on Hollywood Boulevard, so until then, I figured she should wear one around her neck. Haley promised not to take it off until she becomes an actual Hollywood starlet.
"You're wearing the necklace I gave you!"
Smiling, Haley grabs the silver charm and nods. "Of course, I promised."
I'm completely giddy as I open my other presents and blow out my birthday candles. I haven't seen Haley in nearly nine months, and she looks almost the same ... except for her new haircut. I guess she decided to bite the bullet and cut her long locks into a posh bob like she always said she would. I never believed she'd do it ... but I'm glad to be proven wrong in person.
As my birthday activities wind down, my family dwindles off into separate rooms and Melanie goes home to let me and Haley catch up.
"I really like her," Haley says after Mel leaves. "I got to hang out with her when you guys were at dinner."
"She's awesome," I say. "When you become a celebrity, she can be your marriage therapist."
"Huh?"
"Never mind." I smile. "She's great. I couldn't have gotten through the whole Lipstick Laws mess without her."
"Can I see it?" Haley's amber eyes glisten. "Can I see the Oath?"
I pull the Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath out of my nightstand drawer, handing it to her with a big grin. "You wanna add your pucker pout to it?"
"I cant, can I?
"Of course! You're a Lipstick Lawbreaker, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah."
"Actually Lee, you're one of our founders. You gave me the idea," I say, grabbing the midnight black lipstick from my makeup drawer.
"I'd be honored," she says with a cheesy grin.
I laugh, handing her the lipstick.
After adding her morbid lipstick stamp to the oath, her face lights up. "How could I forget? I have another surprise for you!"
She heads to her suitcase, lying in front of my closet door, and opens it. I don't know what could possibly surprise me more than her visit.
"You'll probably have to get the wrinkles steamed out of it," she cautions as she sorts through her clothes.
I kneel beside her inquisitively. "What is it?"
"Close your eyes!"
"They're closed," I say, shutting them tightly. A cool breeze passes my face when she stands up beside me.
"Okay, open 'em!" Haley orders.
I open my eyes and see her whirling around my room holding the most gorgeous, flowing lavender dress.
"Your favorite color!" Haley sings. "Do you love it?"
I bounce to my feet to get a closer look. "I love it! It's beautiful!"
"Well ... it's yours!"
"No way!" I blurt.
"Yes way!" she says. "It's authentic Oscar de la Renta. The best part is, it's been on the red carpet."
"Hollywood?" I pant.
"Yep! Jessica Alba! Can you believe it?"
"But—but," I stammer, "How'd you—"
"Tessa got it for me."
I've always wanted to meet Tessa. She's Haley's fabulously glamorous cousin. She moved to Hollywood to become an actress, but found celebrity styling to be more interesting. Haley's hoping that one day Tessa will take her under her wing to show her the ropes of Tinseltown.
I'm feeling exhilarated, so I take a seat on my bed. "I can't keep this, Lee. It's too nice."
"Of course you can. It's your present!"
"But, don't you want it?" I ask.
"Tessa will get me one some other time. Besides, since Jordan and I split, I don't even want to think about
my
sophomore dance."
"Dance?" I repeat unenthusiastically.
She cocks her head to the side, looking concerned. "Well, yeah ... that's where I pictured you wearing it. At Penford's spring formal."
"Haley, thank you so much. It's amazing. I love it. I really do! But I don't think it will be making an appearance at the spring formal this year."
She sits down next to me. "Why?"
"For starters, no one's asked me."
"Why don't you take initiative and ask Matt? It's the twenty-first century, girl, get with the program!" she says.
"I don't know," I mumble apprehensively. "I was hoping he'd ask me, but I don't think it will happen at this point. And I don't have the guts to ask him, that's for sure."
"C'mon, April, how many people have to tell you you're gorgeous before you start believing it? He'd be lucky to go with you. Maybe he's waiting for you to ask him."
"Nah." I shake my head bashfully.
"Whatever," she says. "You know he'll die when he sees you in this dress."
"Yeah, but..."
"No buts—you guys have been flirting since the first day of school. Just do it!"
"Maybe," I say, fidgeting nervously with a button on my shirt.
"Do the other girls have dates yet?"
I roll my eyes. "Of course. Ashley and Rachel are taking a couple guys they've known for a while. Two hotties from Fairfield High School."
"Oh—yummy!" Haley says. "Fairfield boys are the best."
I continue, "And Mark Rhinehart asked Mel last week."
"Mark Rhinehart?" Haley chokes. "That's totally random!"
"She thinks he's interesting ... and she says they can share clothing," I explain.
Haley scrunches her nose like she always does when she's confused. "Since when does Melanie wear men's clothing?"
"No, no." I laugh. "Oh my gosh! I didn't tell you!"
"What?" Haley inches closer.
"Mark's an undercover cross-dresser!" I spit out in laughter.
"No way! Stop it!" Haley smacks my arm. "You're joking!"
"I wish I were!" I giggle, holding my stomach. "It's a long story. Let's not get into it."
"Ummmm ... okay. Fascinating!" She laughs. "Well, he should make for a fun and fashionable date."
I nod, still laughing. "I think Melanie felt bad ... so she said yes. She's too nice sometimes."
"Well, if she can go to the formal with an undercover cross-dresser, you should be able to get the nerve up to ask Mr. Hottie-Body," Haley insists.
"You might have a point." I giggle.
Haley grabs the Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath, putting her right hand up in the air.
"Put your hand up and repeat after me," she demands.
I put my right hand up reluctantly.
"I, April Bowers..."
"I, April Bowers," I repeat, half giggling.
"This is serious, Apes!" She continues, "Promise on the holy Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath to ask Mr. Hottie-Body Brentwood to the spring formal."
I take a few deep breaths. I haven't even had a date with Matt. How am I going to ask him out for the biggest night of the year? Not to mention, he's been so flippant with our flirting lately that I can't even tell if he likes me at all.
"C'mon, April," Haley prods.
"Er..." I glance at the beautiful dress she brought me and give in. "Fine. I promise on the Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath that I'll ask him to the spring formal."
Haley bursts out clapping, and I blush, feeling rejected by him already.
Saying goodbye to Haley at the airport on Sunday night is super sad. I'll miss her like crazy. She's like the sister I've never had ... and the other girls love her, too. She fits in perfectly to our Lipstick Lawbreaker clique—which, I guess, makes perfect sense, seeing that she's the original Lawbreaker.
As I'm hugging her goodbye, she whispers in my ear, "Don't let that dress go to waste."
I squeeze her tightly and whisper back, "I won't."
"Promise me you'll ask him." She smiles, twisting her silver star necklace.
"I promise, Haley. I swore on the Oath."
Although I'm really sad to see her go, surprisingly, I don't cry this time. I bawled my eyes out the day she moved to Kansas. That was when she left me with no friends and an empty heart. This time, she's leaving me with three good friends and a heart that beats wildly for Mr. Hottie-Body Brentwood.
***
My heart is thudding throughout Mr. Stuart's attendance call ... and this time it's not because of his monster truck body and booming voice. I glance at Matt out of the corner of my eye. This makes my heart pound even louder. I've never asked a guy out before ... Well, at least not since Bobby Brynmar in second grade. His rejection morphed me into elementary hermit-hood for nearly three months. But I can't think about that now. I have to think happy thoughts ... thoughts that will enhance my inner seductress. Thoughts like Mr. Hottie-Body on a—
"Scooter!" Mr. Stuart sneers. "What did I tell you about that crap in your mouth?"
He stomps to the varsity football jock in the back of homeroom. Holding out a Styrofoam cup, he orders, "Spit!"
I watch as Ryan "Scooter" Bryce spews out a chunky wad of dark brown nastiness. Mr. Stuart holds the cup in place for the remaining speckled saliva that's hanging from Scooter's lips to slowly ooze into the cup.
"And if anyone else decides that chewin' tobacco is cool," he barks, "I'm going to introduce you to my chinless uncle Steve!"
The class quivers in terror as he shakes the floor with his heavy walk back to the front desk. I hear my brother gulp from a few rows back. I can recognize his gulp from anywhere, as it's the same gulp he's gulped every time he's been caught in a lie—which, it turns out, is pretty often. While everyone else is cowering in fear, I smile. I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows Mr. Stuart was once a football.
I'm shaking with nerves as I walk with Matt down the hallway. I know he can sense I'm nervous ... which makes me even more nervous.
"Somethin' up?" he asks, giving a curious expression that's completely adorable.
I gander up at the ceiling; trying to be witty, I say, "Just the ugly fluorescent lights."