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Authors: Jen Malone

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YOU'RE INVITED

I do declare! Miss Molly Campbell, daughter of Jeremy and Christina Campbell, cordially invites you to her ninth birthday tea party—with a killer surprise twist!

The festivities shall take place at two o'clock on Saturday, June 27, at the Poinsettia Plantation House, 10370 Poinsettia Road, Sandpiper Beach (mainland).

Refreshments shall be provided. Formal dress encouraged.

Kindly RSVP to Sadie Pleffer at (910) 555-0110 or [email protected]

Sadie

TODAY'S TO-DO LIST

■
 leave Mom reminder to come to Poinsettia Plantation House in her day planner

■
 finish taping paper fans

■
 pack fake blood

B
ecs, are you kidding me with that dress right now?”

I love the girl to death, but who arrives to set up an event in petticoats? Even if it
is
at an old Southern plantation.

“But I swish when I walk.” Becca's lower lip juts out in a perfectly lip-glossed pout, making it impossible to be mad. I puff my bangs out of my eyes.

“You look and
sound
fantastic, Swishy Girl. But I need you sweating, not
swishing
right now. There's
a change of clothes in the emergency kit in the first upstairs bedroom. Top of the stairs, turn left,” I tell her, pointing the way.

She gives me a grin and heads for the elaborate staircase. Halfway up she pauses and sweeps a hand across her forehead.

“Oh, Rhett, darling. Don't leave me.”

“BECCA!” I place one hand on my hip and use my other to point more forcefully at the top of the stairs. I hope she's half as convincing later, when she has to be in character as a belle. I'm counting on her to help me make today extra perfect. I told Mrs. Campbell she'd be able to kick back and put her feet up because we'd handle everything and she'd seemed pretty into that. More importantly, I need Mom to witness the amazingness that is Party Planner Sadie so she'll realize she can't function without me, and that particular feat is going to take all our combined efforts. It has to be perfect by the time she arrives for her “surprise.”

“Sadie, where do these go?” Vi is at my side, holding a stack of tablecloths.

At least I don't have to worry about Vi showing up in a hoop skirt. It's going to take a ton of coaxing to get her to change out of her flip-flops and board shorts into
a Southern gentleman bachelor outfit as it is. She
claims
she's just happy she doesn't have to wear the cotton-candy dress, but we'll see when the time comes to get changed.

“The two rectangular ones are for the setups inside, then the round ones go on the tables on the porch,” I answer, checking my clipboard.

“I'll do the outside ones,” Lauren says. She probably wants to be alone out there so she can work math problems in her head as she sets up. I notice both of her feet are planted in the doorway.

“What are you, a vampire? Do you need an invitation to enter?” Vi grins as she teases Lauren.

“I'm not setting foot inside this . . .
unearthly
house if I can help it.” Lauren gives an all-over body shudder.

Vi rolls her eyes and passes the tablecloths to Lauren, who pivots and strides across the deep porch. Lauren might find this house creepy, but I think it's pretty amazing. The ceilings in the entryway have to be like twenty feet tall. I bet I could stack all three of my friends on my shoulders and they still wouldn't touch the ceiling. Actually, though, it would probably need to be Vi on the bottom. She plays enough beach volleyball to have awesome shoulder muscles.

A staircase, wide enough for two girls wearing hoop
skirts to go up side by side, curves around as it reaches the second floor. The whole place is decorated super fancy, with enormous crystal chandeliers and green-and-gold magnolia-flower wallpaper covering every wall. There are more paintings of old-fashioned-looking people than I bet even Hogwarts has.

I guess if you stare at the portraits long enough, it does sort of look like the eyes are following you. Well, whatever. Most of the action will take place on the porch anyway. And that's completely amazing too. It wraps around the whole house and is big enough to ride bikes on.

Speaking of bikes . . .

I catch movement out the window and step closer to see a boy pedaling furiously up the tree-lined driveway. I'm just reaching the porch steps when he skids to a halt in front of them.

“Am I late?” He's gasping for breath. Although . . .
nice accent
. I'm wondering if he rode all the way from the island. It's kind of a long bike ride. Lauren somehow guilted Zach into driving us and all our stuff out here, and Becca had her dad drop her off.

“Late for what?” I ask, but just then Vi appears behind me.


Hey, Ryan, you made it! Sadie, this is Ryan.”

Ooooo-
kay
. Am I missing something? I have every second of today mapped out in my event binder and I don't remember anything about any Ryan.

“Ryan just joined my beach volleyball team. I hired him to play the bachelor.” Vi looks oh-so-proud of herself. “He's an actor, and I thought this would be the perfect gig for him.”

Ryan bows at the waist, grinning. “I'm keen to put my skills to use. It's not quite drama camp, but it
is
an actual paid job, and a struggling actor never turns down a role.”

Paid?
I mouth to Vi, careful to angle myself so Ryan can't see my lips moving.

Just ten bucks,
she mouths back, with a shrug. To Ryan she says, “We're really excited to have you here. I was supposed to play the bachelor, but I think it will be
much
more believable if he's actually, well, a
he
. You know, I sure hope you're better at acting than you are at volleyball.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at him. “If you lied about that, I'll make your life miserable.”

Ryan smiles again and swings a leg over his bike so he's now standing next to it. “I promise I'm better at acting than I am at any sport.”

I give Vi an uneasy look. “You know, Becca's been rehearsing that role with you like crazy. I hope she isn't too—”

“Well now, I do declare. Is that a real live gentleman I see?” Becca's green eyes are twinkling like a Christmas tree as she crosses the porch, still wearing, I might add, her swishy dress.

“—disappointed,” I mumble. What was I thinking? Becca would never mind any change of plans, as long as a boy is involved.

“I daren't believe I caught your name the other day, fine sir,” Becca says to Ryan, still using her over-the-top Southern drawl. Of course, on her it sounds adorable.

Too bad Ryan doesn't seem to think so. His grin fades a little as he mumbles, “Ryan.”

Poor Becca. Looks like this guy isn't falling for her charms.

Although, what am I doing? I don't have time to worry about Becca's love life, or lack of one, because I have a party to prepare for. And it has to be the best, the most over-the-top, without-a-hitch Murder-Mystery/Southern-Tea-Party Birthday that's ever been thrown. Especially because Mom will be here to witness it.

I clap my hands. “We have thirty minutes before the guests arrive. Everyone back to work!”

Becca drops one hand onto the handlebar of Ryan's bike. “Let me show you where you can store this, Ryan.” She swishes off with Ryan trailing her.

Vi giggles. “I'd hate to be that poor guy right now. Too bad he's not playing the corpse.”

I glance at her and lift my eyebrows.

She smiles. “I have a feeling by the time we get to the murder part, he'll be begging for someone to shoot him.”

• • •


Psst
, Sadie! You can't tell, can you?” Vi motions at her long skirt, which she's pulled up just slightly to reveal blue plastic flip-flops.

Oh, Vi. And she's still wearing the ponytail too, which I really doubt was a popular hairstyle in eighteen-hundred-whatever. Thing is, though, when she drops the skirt again, you really
can't
tell what's on her feet, and besides, how can I be annoyed when my friends are crazy awesome to be here helping me? Obviously, Vi would be way happier at the beach and Lauren probably has flash cards to fill out, and Becca . . . well, actually I'm sure Becca's perfectly content right here. But still.
I should be grateful to have friends who will sacrifice their day just so I can fix everything with my mom and get things back to normal.

I smile at Vi and give her a “whatever” shrug, then go back to filling a glass with pink lemonade for one of the guests on the porch. Tires crunch up the gravel drive and I jerk my head up to see if it's Mom's Volvo. It's not.

“Hey!” squeaks the girl I'm pouring a drink for, and I snap my attention back just before I overfill her cup.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

Get your head in the game, Sadie. She'll be here.
Besides, Mom showing up to see me dumping sugary beverages all over my guests won't exactly inspire her confidence in my ability to handle any party task she could throw at me. Which is what I have to prove today.

Lauren leans over my shoulder. “That's the last of the guests, by my head count. Any time you're ready.”

As much as I want to wait for Mom to get here to begin, that wouldn't be fair to the birthday girl. I set the pitcher down gently and clap my hands together.

“Girls, if I could have everyone's attention.”

Unfortunately, the group of nine-year-olds are so busy squealing over how fancy they all look in their
dresses that no one pays me the slightest bit of attention. I try clapping again, but not one person looks my way.

The loudest whistle I've ever heard pierces the air. I swing my head towards Vi in time to see her remove two fingers from her mouth.

“Hi, y'all. This girl over here needs your attention for a few seconds before we can get back to the fun.”

She points to me, and I barely manage to stop gaping at her and face the guests before they all turn their heads toward me.

“Um, hi. Hi, everyone. So, uh, we have a really fun afternoon planned for you, but, um, first we're going to start with some refreshments on the porch. So if the rest of you will please have a seat, we'll begin our tea service.”

I don't know why I'm so nervous. I guess because when I help Mom my job is to mainly blend into the background as much as possible, but now I have to run the whole show. Talk about pressure. And just WHERE is my mother?

Forty-five minutes later, there's still no sign of her. But at least everything else is going smoothly. The tiny crustless finger sandwiches were a giant success (especially since I skipped traditional cucumber and made
them peanut butter and jelly instead), and so was the sweet tea. The girls are fanning themselves with the folded paper fans Becca, Lauren, Vi, and I made the other night, and Molly and her mom both seem to be into the whole tea-on-the-porch thing.

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