When I walked in, Blaire and Elise were already packing up their things. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said. “Are you done already?”
“Late would’ve been an hour and a half ago,” Blaire said. “But it’s fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
Blaire looked up after zipping her backpack and her mouth dropped open.
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“No … your hair.”
“Oh.” I reached up and touched it. “I got it cut.”
“You look … ”
“Is it bad?” Trina had said it looked great, but Blaire’s reaction was scaring me.
“No. You just look so different. Like you could walk out of a magazine.” Why did her expression make that seem like a bad thing?
“It looks amazing!” Elise said.
I smiled. “Yeah, Trina took me shopping today.”
“Trina,” Blaire said, like it now all made sense.
“Trina?” Elise asked. “Was it just you and Trina or did she bring her other friends?”
“Just Trina. It took way longer than I thought it would.” I didn’t mention that was because we drove all the way to L.A.
“Did you get lots of outfits?” Elise asked.
“I thought we were going shopping,” Blaire said.
“What?” I asked.
“That night we went dorm room shopping, I asked you if we could go makeover shopping later, too, and you said yes.”
“You did? I did? I’m so sorry. I forgot.” I wasn’t sure that was exactly how the conversation had gone, but I’d obviously hurt her feelings and I hadn’t meant to. I should’ve asked Blaire and Elise to come with me, too. I honestly didn’t think they would want to.
“No big deal,” Blaire said.
“You guys should come over Friday before the party and I’ll let you borrow something to wear,” I said.
Elise smiled big. “Okay.”
Blaire nodded. “I’ll come to your house, but I’m bringing my own clothes in case I hate what you bought.”
I shoved her arm playfully. “Deal.”
I looked at Blaire’s bag that she had now shifted to her shoulder. “Are you guys really done studying?”
“Yes.” Blaire gave me a once-over, then attempted to look around me. “Did you even bring your books?”
I stared at my empty hands for a moment, just now realizing I hadn’t. “I ran out of the house too fast.”
Blaire shook her head with a smile. “You’re losing your mind, Maddie.”
“Never. My mind is the strongest muscle I have.”
Blaire laughed a little. “Keep saying stuff like that and you won’t fit in with the cool kids no matter how much money you have.”
“I’m not trying to fit in with the cool kids,” I said.
Blaire put her arm around my shoulder as she walked us toward the door, but didn’t respond.
At home, in my bedroom, a stack of mail sat on my desk waiting for me. Seeing a big envelope there made my heart sputter. Was it finally my UCLA letter? But it didn’t have the logo. I opened it to discover it wasn’t a college acceptance at all. It was paperwork from my great-uncle.
I flipped through each page that detailed the house we were purchasing. After Barry had called the other day, I’d done research on him. He was a very successful real estate investor. So I had all the confidence in the world as I reviewed the papers in front of me. I was proud that I was making my first investment. My first step to helping my money work for me. It was easy to spend money but I knew I wanted to grow my money, too.
I signed my name on all the highlighted lines, stuck the papers back into an addressed envelope he provided, and then followed the directions he’d given me to wire him the five hundred thousand.
The rest of the mail was mainly junk. Somehow I’d gotten on a zillion mailing lists and I now received advertising on a daily basis. I flipped through each and every piece though, making sure no other mail had gotten wedged between the folds. Where was my UCLA letter? It had to come soon.
The house was quiet around me Thursday night, so when my phone chimed, it made me jump. I looked at the screen to see a calendar notification. Date with Blaire to go over Stanford packet. I had almost forgotten. I wondered if she remembered. I sent her off a quick confirmation text and got her answer back almost immediately: Just got my reminder. Do you want to pick me up?
Yes. See you in a sec.
I stood from my desk and made my way down the hall, listening intently. The television was on in the living room, but I heard my parents’ low voices on top of it. My mom laughed at something my dad said. I leaned against the wall with a smile. This was good. So good.
I walked into the living room. “I’m going out with Blaire. Is that okay?” I glanced back and forth between the two of them. They sat close on the couch.
Dad looked at Mom and some silent message was communicated in that look. Then she said, “That’s fine.”
“Thanks.” I lingered for a few moments, not wanting to leave the rare scene.
“Was there something else?” my dad asked.
“No. I just … ” I bent down and hugged them, one arm around my dad and the other around my mom. “Thanks.”
They both laughed and hugged me back.
I showed up at Blaire’s front door with a pack of Sour Patch Watermelons and the Stanford package she’d put together. I knocked. Her mom answered.
“Hi, Maddie. Let me grab Blaire for you. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I know. I’ve been busy.”
“You girls are always so busy. Congratulations on the lottery win, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Was I supposed to say something more after that line? I still had no idea how to respond to that. Thank you made it seem like I had earned it somehow.
She ushered me inside, then left me standing in the entryway.
Blaire arrived a few minutes later. “I’m still not used to your hair like that.”
I ran a hand through it. “Me neither.”
She pointed at the pack of candy I held. “Are those for me?”
“Yes. I’m bribing you because I was a flake last night.”
She smiled. “You don’t need to bribe me, Maddie. You’re my best friend.”
I handed her the candy, anyway. “I know.”
She freed a sweater from the hook beside us and slid on a pair of flip-flops. “Let’s go.”
In the car, Blaire pulled the seat belt across her chest. “Wow, fancy.”
“It’s just a seat belt.”
“No, I mean the car. There are so many lights and buttons.”
“I know, I feel like it’s spying on me sometimes and is going to take over my life.”
Blaire was quiet for three counts, then she let out a burst of laughter. “You are still the biggest nerd.”
“I know!” I picked up her Stanford pack and fanned her with it. “So where are we doing this?”
“Starbucks?”
I tried to mentally calculate how many classmates would be at Starbucks.
“Oh, right,” Blaire said, reading my mind like she always seemed to do. “My friend has become famous.”
“Have not.”
“If not now, surely after your big yacht party tomorrow.”
“Our big yacht party,” I said.
“I’ve done all of nothing.”
“You gave me almost all the ideas for food to serve.”
“True. Those are pretty awesome ideas, too.” She watched street signs as we passed by. “Go to the one on Seventeeth. You’re right, we won’t get anything done at ours.”
The one she was referring to was only a few miles farther, but it would make a difference.
I pulled into the parking lot and we got out of the car.
After ordering, we sat at a small table in the corner while we waited for our drinks to be called.
“So,” I said, placing both palms flat on the table. “Do you have talking points?”
She smiled. “You know I do. Open to page one, please.”