“Hey, leave those gal pals alone,” Lupe says before she winks at me. My whole face feels like it catches on fire. I know they are just messing with me, but I’m still embarrassed that we got caught being so obvious.
“I’m serious. Just friends,” I say.
“Yeah, for now,” Marci mutters.
“We’re just giving you a hard time, kid,” Lupe says. “Besides, the best way to get started in anything is with help from some friends.”
31
Heaven
The party actually goes really well. For me at least. It’s a lot of chaos, but Mrs.Ford is really on top of it. She splits the kids into groups to get their pictures taken, decorate a T-shirt, and get a tattoo from me.
They sit like champs while I draw on their arms. Some of them are chatty and ask me questions like how old I am. Some of the kids don’t say anything, and that works out just fine for me. Only one girl’s dad refused to let her get a beach day kitten tattoo even if it’s temporary, so I give her the flash sheet to take home. She wants me to sign it, which I do, and then all the kids want their T-shirts signed by me, Marci, and Lupe. It’s silly, but we have fun.
Saylor checks on me a bunch of times, but she’s helping her parents wrangle tweens. Mrs.Ford is running around the whole time, camera in hand. We all agreed to be filmed and be in whatever content she makes, but I have to admit having her recording is my least favorite part of the event. It’s distracting and kind of intrusive, even if I get that she’s just trying to document her kids’ party. It’s hard to forgetshe’s not documenting it for the kids, but for her millions of followers. I keep my head down and work. Kittens frolicking in the sand are serious business.
The next portion of the night is dinner and a movie. Mrs.Ford pays me and tips me a little more for being such a good sport with the kids. I think about taking off and dragging Saylor with me down the street, even if it’s just for ten minutes of quiet, but Mrs.Ford offers to feed me, Marci, and Lupe, and the focaccia bread pizza she has brought in looks pretty dang good.
Marci and Lupe decline. They were only hired for the backyard portion of things. They get right to heading out while Saylor and I load up our plates and go sit on the front steps and eat.
The sun is going down and taking a lot of the heat with it.
“What do you think of your first Cristine Ford event?”
“Second. I did come by for winter formal,” I remind her. “Even if I didn’t come inside.”
“Yeah, and you never came back.” Saylor laughs.
“Well, it was fun and terrifying, kinda like this.”
“My mom knows she does the absolute most, but she said she never wants us to feel like she isn’t celebrating us at every chance.”
“I can see that. Do you feel celebrated?”
“Not really. I feel used most of the time, but we always have good pictures and who doesn’t love a goodie bag.”
“Getting paid is nice too,” I add, trying not to react too hard to the idea that she feels used.
“What are you gonna do with all that money in your pocket?”
“The usual. More art supplies, a bit in my savings so I can trick my parents into thinking I’m responsible. Might buy a new pair of Jordans. Treat you to some Mountain Dew.”
“Now that’s romantic.” Saylor laughs.
“I’m sorry I didn’t check with you about sleeping over.”
Her smile softens, and she bumps her knee with mine. “It’s okay. I told her I didn’t want to sleep here because my sisters’ friends will be cool for like five seconds and then at three a.m. they’ll be outside my bedroom door playing pranks or just trying to get me to tell them what older boys are like. I don’t know—I mean I do know—it just irritates me that she asked you to stay over without telling me. But what can I do? My mom always gets her way, and I don’t know why I thought it would be any different when it came to you.”
“Not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Welcome to my world.”
I glance down at my phone and remember what my mom said. Come home if things get weird. Nothing life threatening has happened, but things do feel weird.
“Do you want to go back to my house?” I ask.
“Yes!” Saylor says, letting out a deep sigh. I shoot my mom a quick text telling her the change in plans. She never looks at her phone in the theater, but she’ll get the heads-up when she checks it in the car.