Ten Read Free

have an adopted cat named Sweet Pea, who wasn’t mine and didn’t live at my house, but whom I got to share. It would be dreadful.
    Chantelle showed up next. While Amanda and I had been friends since forever, Chantelle had come onto the scene in third grade, and she’d quickly become our second-best friend. She loved things like clothes and purses and makeup, even though she wasn’t allowed to wear any yet except in her own house, just for fun. For me, clothes and makeup had nothing to do with fun, and purses were downright antifun. Blech! Even the word purse made me grimace.
    But Chantelle was more than a purse-lover. She was funny and feisty, and when she disapproved of something, she cocked her hip and said, “Oh, nuh- uh .” She also said, “How rude ,” if someone was being rude, and she huffed out the rude part with extreme huffiness. It made me giggle, even if I was the one who was supposedly being rude.
    Maxine arrived soon after Chantelle, followed by Louise and Karen. Karen was supposedly Louise’s best friend, but she was more like Louise’s pet, kind of. Even though she was a real live girl like the rest of us.
    The last girl to be dropped off was Dinah Devine. Dinah was round and oatmealy and never got a tan, even in the summer. I didn’t say that to be mean. Unless, yikes . Was it mean? I didn’t dislike Dinah. She was just nervous a lot of the time. Sometimes I worried that she might . . . break. Or cry. Or smile really big with her mouth, but not her eyes.
    But I had to invite her to my parties whether I wanted to or not, because Mom made me. Dad and Mr. Devine worked together, that’s why.
    Everyone deposited their presents in the TV room, and while they were there, they stopped by the tattoo station, which Dad was in charge of. He used a wet paper towel to apply either a tiny skull, a spider, or a black cat on each girl’s cheek—or, in Louise’s case, all three. That was Louise in a nutshell. She was the sort of girl who wanted it all.
    Then again, I made Dad put all three designs on me as well. I got him to do me early, since I was the birthday girl, and actually I sort of ended up with multiple tattoos of each, including ten spiders (because I was ten!) marching up my arm in a line.
    Like I said, I was the birthday girl.
    After tattoos, I led everyone to the top of the basement staircase. I glanced around and hollered, “Amanda, your presence is required!”
    I wanted her up front with me. It was another best-friend thing.
    â€œBurst my eardrum next time,” Louise complained.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    Amanda weaved her way to me, and I took her hand. Even without additional party spookiness, the basement was already plenty spooky because of how old and unmodern our house was. The stairs were creaky and clompish, and sometimes there were dead roaches on them. Built into the wall along the side of the staircase was a hidden trapdoor, and if you opened it, all you saw was dirt . It was like peeking into a coffin . . . or peeking out of a coffin. Shudder .
    â€œIs everyone ready?” I said. “If you’re not, this is the time to speak up, especially if you have high blood pressure, extreme scaredy-cat-ness, or a tendency to faint. And if you’re pregnant, or think you may be pregnant, you’ll need to consult with your doctor before proceeding.”
    â€œWinnie,” Amanda said, hip-bumping me.
    â€œWhat?” I said. That’s what the signs said at the rides at Six Flags. If only I owned a wooden cutout of a person holding up his hand to measure how tall kids were—that would have been hilarious! I could have placed it at the top of the staircase and made everyone get checked!
    Oh, well. Next time.
    Louise raised her hand.
    â€œYes, Louise?” I said.
    â€œFirst of all, no, I’m not pregnant.”
    â€œThank you, Louise,” I said. “Thank you for clearing that up, even though