Birthday Vicious by Melissa de La Cruz

invitations at the Fillmore Starbucks that morning, while they were waiting to pick up their venti decaf soy lattes. Ashley’s favorite drink.
    Finally the teachers were filing off the stage and the other grades were beginning to disperse, headed to class or early lunch. But the seventh graders hung around, giggling and nudging one another, taking way too long to make their way out of the theater.
    And there was Ashley, standing smack-bang in the middle of things, like the eye of a hurricane, holding all the cards, so to speak, and acting as if she had no idea why anyone was making such a fuss.
    â€œMelody Myers!” Ashley had started calling out names. Those lucky enough to get an invitation simperedup to her, acting all surprised and honored. “Sheridan Riley!”
    The strange thing about the whole scene was that Ashley didn’t appear to be enjoying herself all that much. Usually she loved lording it over the rest of the grade, or having her status as the queen of cool dangled in front of other people’s noses.
    But today she was looking almost overwhelmed, as though she couldn’t quite believe how big a deal all this was. She didn’t even have all the Ashleys there to support her. Lili had managed to wriggle out of class for what she said was a doctor’s appointment, but Lauren knew what she was really doing: Lili and Max were meeting up to go shopping for more camping equipment. Apparently he had taken one look at her Nordstrom gear and deemed it all wrong. Max was taking her to a real sports shop.
    Lili and Ashley weren’t on the best of terms anyway right now, something Lauren was watching with interest. After their velvet-dress showdown in the store on Saturday afternoon, Lili was furious. When Lauren was paying for her clothes, Lili joined her at the counter, whispering that something was up with Ashley’s party. At the time, Lauren thought Lili was just suffering fromrobe rage. But the more she thought about it, the more she thought Lili might be onto something.
    Ashley called out another name. “Bethany Revson!”
    Lauren hung back by the stack of chairs, watching some girls’ faces get longer and longer as they realized they were doomed to be Cinderellas, not going to the ball.
    Daria Hart looked like she was about to cry. Even Guinevere Parker seemed disappointed, though she must have known she would never be invited to Ashley’s party, not in a million years, no matter how loudly she talked about wanting to write a style report on the party for Miss Gamble’s school newspaper. And there was poor Sadie, her nose in the air, pretending not to care.
    Sadie was still a little annoyed about being ditched abruptly the other day. “I’m not hanging around here,” she told Lauren. “This is stupid. Why does everyone care so much about a dumb party? I’m going to class.”
    â€œOkay.” Lauren nodded, nervously looking over her shoulder to see if any of the Ashleys noticed her talking to Sadie.
    â€œWhy do you keep doing that?” Sadie demanded, glaring at Lauren through her thick glasses.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLooking over your shoulder whenever you talk to me.”
    Lauren felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t realized she was so transparent.
    â€œAnyway, do you really think you have a shot at getting an invitation? Get real, Lauren!”
    Lauren didn’t know how to answer that—the force of Sadie’s vehemence surprised her. But she didn’t have to say anything, since Lili said it for her.
    Lili arrived at the Little Theater a bit out of breath. “Lauren! Do you have your invite? I think I left mine at Starbucks this morning, and I need to tell Max the date of the party.”
    Lauren rooted in her handbag and handed the precious invitation to Lili, while Sadie looked on with wide eyes. Lili flicked a curious glance in Sadie’s direction, then excused herself to finish her phone call with her