Sweet Thirteen Read online

  Charlotte could hear whispers around the room. People were asking, “Who’s Sophie?” and “Why is Sophie coming?”

  The Queens of Mean even moved in closer to listen. They loved juicy gossip. If Charlotte knew them at all, they probably wanted to be the ones to tell everyone exactly who Sophie was and why she was coming to town.

  The first one to recover, Katani squealed, “I can’t believe this! Mega-awesomicity!”

  “You’ve been trying to tell us about Sophie since you arrived tonight, haven’t you?” Isabel realized. “Sorry we haven’t been listening.”

  “Yeah, we can’t wait to meet her!” Avery added.

  “Tell us more!” Maeve gushed. “We need details.”

  “Okay.” Charlotte told her friends . . . and the whole crowd of random people gathered around! “I got a call from Sophie in Paris right before I was about to leave tonight. This trip was a surprise for her thirteenth birthday, so I guess my dad and her dad have been planning this for months, and we didn’t find out until now. But it’s definitely happening. Sophie is flying in Monday night! That’s in, like, two days! Isn’t that amazing?”

  “Who’s Sophie?” Dillon asked, confused.

  “Yeah. What’s the deal with her? Is she famous?” Henry Yurt looked completely baffled at why this was such big news.

  The Beacon Street Girls all knew exactly who Sophie Morel was.

  “She was Charlotte’s BFF when she lived in Paris,” Avery explained.

  “Charlotte went to visit Sophie last year to look for her missing cat, Orangina,” Isabel added.

  “Cool,” Henry said. “Can’t wait to meet Frenchie!” He smiled enthusiastically, then the Yurtmeister grabbed Dillon and his other buddies and went back to the dance floor.

  “I’m glad your friend is coming,” Nick whispered to Charlotte before running off with the guys. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  The Queens of Mean looked truly disappointed. “Who cares that some French snob is coming to town?” Anna remarked.

  “Big, fat deal,” Joline agreed as the QOM wandered off to find more interesting gossip. The rest of the crowd, also realizing that this news didn’t seem to involve them, went back to their dinner, drinks, and dancing.

  When the BSG were finally alone, they huddled around Charlotte.

  “This is thrilling news!” Maeve exclaimed.

  “We simply must make a list of everything to show her in Boston,” Katani added.

  “We should start right here!” Avery suggested. “Even on a regular day, the Museum of Science is pretty cool.”

  “Oh, how about a visit to the ICA?” Isabel hadn’t lived in Boston as long as the other girls, but she’d already found her favorite place: the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston’s modern art museum.

  “Or the New England Aquarium!” Avery loved watching the penguins.

  “Another day we could go horseback riding,” Katani said. “How long will Sophie be here?” There were so many places to go, like Montoya’s Bakery and the Movie House and Irving’s Toy and Card Shop.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Charlotte admitted. “I only just found out this was Sophie’s surprise birthday present, like, an hour ago!”

  “I hope Sophie’ll stay long enough to come to my Bat Mitzvah,” Maeve pondered. She was now so excited that she started talking a mile a minute. “She can come with me to Think Pink to shop!” The BSG all knew that the slightly eccentric owner of the store, Ms. Razzberry Pink, used to live in Paris. Maeve chattered on, “Ms. Pink and Sophie could totally bond about French things, like the Eiffel Tower and baguettes and—”

  “Slow down, Maeve,” Katani interrupted. “You’re going so fast, even I can’t keep up! Also, I had another idea. She should come by my house. We can design and sew French fashions together!”

  “Sophie is going to LOVE the BSG!” Charlotte exclaimed, overwhelmed by her friends’ exuberant reactions. “I’ll e-mail her when I get home tonight and tell her all our ideas.”

  The DJ’s voice interrupted their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special surprise for you tonight! In honor of Henry Yurt’s Bar Mitzvah, I want to introduce to you”—a drumroll started building up in the background—“the third runner-up from everyone’s favorite reality contest Rock and Roll Survivor . . .” The swell of drums from the speakers grew as the crowd hushed. “I give you . . . John Thomas!!!!!”

  From behind the DJ a shower of fireworks rained down and gray smoke slithered across the stage. The DJ moved aside just as John Thomas, teen singing sensation, burst through the fireworks curtain. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a neon skull on the front, and tight black leather pants.

  JT, as he was known by his fans, shouted out, “Mazel Tov to the Yurtmeister!” and then broke into his number-one hit song. It was a fast and catchy pop tune that he’d recorded the day after he was booted off Rock and Roll Survivor, the only reality TV show where contestants had to sing and perform daredevil stunts at the same time.

  “You make my heart spin! Yeah, yeah, yeah! You make my fears fly away on wings of light. Without you the day faaaaades to night!” JT sang.

  The BSG and everyone else at the party rushed the dance floor. This was huge! A Bar Mitzvah party moment no one would ever forget.

  “Check out Dillon.” Isabel pointed over Maeve’s shoulder. True to form, Dillon was flirting with Henry Yurt’s twin girl cousins, in from New York. Even from this far away they could tell he was talking sports. He moved his arms, as if he were hitting a baseball, then flexed his muscles.

  “Probably retelling every moment of the last game,” Katani said, rolling her eyes. “Hope he doesn’t bore them to death with the details.”

  “Hey—don’t knock it! That game was amazing! Dillon’s double in the seventh inning won us the game,” Avery remarked. She and Dillon had been sports buddies since preschool.

  Nick grabbed Charlotte’s hand and spun her around the floor. Charlotte had no idea where he’d learned his moves and was just glad she didn’t fall. But then when he dipped her, she started to stumble and put her hand on the floor to steady herself. Great, I can’t even keep up with a simple dip without a major klutz moment!Charlotte thought, mortified. But Nick didn’t seem to notice. He just swept her back up and spun her around again.

  “You must be psyched that Sophie’s coming!” Nick shouted over the music. “We should go hiking sometime while she’s here.”

  “Great!” Charlotte exclaimed as the song came to an end. “I’d love to. Umm, I mean she’d love to!” It was a little difficult, actually, to imagine proper city girl Sophie Morel out in the woods, but Charlotte couldn’t say no to spending a whole day with her crush. I’m sure Sophie will understand!Charlotte thought as JT moved into his next song, “I’m the Apple of My Own Eye,” and Nick once again took her hand.

  Walk of Fame

  As the girls danced and sang along with JT, Maeve was on a mission. She boogied over to Henry Yurt and told him, “You know, I’m having a party too! I hope you can come.”

  “Sick! Can’t wait,” the Yurtmeister said.

  Riley told her nothing could keep him away. Nick said he’d be there. Danny, Betsy, Chelsea, and the Trentini twins promised to come. Soon, the entire dance floor was buzzing about Maeve’s big bash.

  “Watch for invitations in the mail,” Maeve told them all.

  “I was thinking about your party,” Isabel said when Maeve returned. “We should have a walk of fame, like in Hollywood,” Isabel continued. “I could cut stars out of cardboard and paint our names on them!”

  “Oooh! And you should have an arcade and game room, too,” Avery suggested. “Just like this party.”

  “What about mannequins in movie costumes?” Charlotte mused. “Like how Henry has those ice sculptures of famous scientists around the dance floor. Your dad could probably help us get real props from the Movie House!”

  Maeve’s head was crowded full of ideas. In her mind she saw a limo driving her to the bash
. Slowly I step out of the limo, wearing the dress of my dreams, matching sparkly shoes, the pinkest of pink nail polish, glitter lipstick, and a diamond tiara! Riley is walking next to me, carrying a new, silver guitar as we walk down the red carpet. Inside, there’s a towering Hollywood-style cake and little Oscars for the party favors. . . .It was a Maeve fantasy times ten!

  No one noticed the worried look on Katani’s face.

  “We heard you’re having a Bat Mitzvah party,” Anna, QOM #1, interrupted Maeve’s daydream.

  “Why haven’t we been invited?” Joline, QOM #2, asked. “I mean, it is only two weeks away, isn’t it?”

  “Normal people send invitations at least a month in advance,” Anna added. “It’s common knowledge that that is proper etiquette.”

  Maeve just shrugged, still in heavenly bliss from her fantasy. “Everyone’s invited, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” she jested.

  “Where’s this big bash going to be, anyway?” Anna asked, stepping in closer and digging for information. “In your tiny apartment?”

  “And what’s on the menu?” Joline said, following Anna’s lead. “We don’t eat red meat. Or french fries.”

  “I—” Maeve shook her head, backing away slightly. She didn’t know all the details. Not yet anyway. “It’s all a mystery.” She brushed their questions off, too excited about her planning to let even these two get her down. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  The girls snorted and walked away.

  Maeve rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at their retreating backs. “They are sooo annoying sometimes,” she said with a sigh.

  “Not just sometimes,” Avery remarked. “Those two are annoying all the time.”

  “Hey, look at Dillon,” Isabel exclaimed. “Wow!”

  “Is he still flirting with the twins?” Katani asked.

  “Not anymore!” Isabel pointed over to where Dillon was riding around the dance floor on a bicycle. It was a brand-new bike, the kind that Maeve had seen A-list celebrities posing with in her favorite magazines. In fact, Maeve could tell that it was the exact same model that her favorite Hollywood director, Ozmond, had given to his crew at the wrap party for his latest film. The same color even.

  Dillon rode the bike across the floor and straight up to Henry. “Thanks, Dillon, for your help,” Henry’s dad announced. “This bicycle is from Grandma and Grandpa Yurt. They are sorry they couldn’t be here tonight, but send their best from the deck of their cruise ship in Spain!”

  A cruise ship! Maeve’s fantasy doubled and tripled as she moved her red carpet party to the deck of a ship in the Boston harbor . . . then a yacht off the coast of France.

  Dillon high-fived Henry before turning the bike over to the Yurtmeister, who then took it for a spin around the dance floor, trying out some crazy moves and nearly running over his twin cousins.

  “After this last tune,” JT announced, putting a temporary halt to the bike fun, “everyone head on over to the Omni Theater for a photomontage presentation about Henry, class president of AAJH and today’s Bar Mitzvah boy! Congrats, kid.”

  After a flurry of applause, JT assured everyone, “Party’s not over yet,” and launched into a new song he’d written with that exact same name.

  Party Planning

  While the crowd was distracted by the music, Katani sidled up next to Maeve. “Hey,” she whispered in Maeve’s ear. “Can we talk for a sec?”

  Maeve nodded, and the two of them moved to the side of the dance floor.

  Katani sighed, then unloaded. “Although I hate to admit it, I think that the QOM might be right about a few things,” she began. “The plans for your Bat Mitzvah party are growing bigger and bigger by the moment, and until tonight I thought you weren’t having a party at all.”

  “Of course I’m having a party!” Maeve replied with a wide-eyed, innocent look on her face. Inside Maeve was forced to admit to herself that Katani had a point. But with a little planning it’ll all be perfect and come together like a dream,Maeve thought.

  “All I know is that for the last month you’ve been moaning and groaning about how your parents say they can’t give you a big party now that they’re separated and all. And how you were only having a family luncheon. Even the BSG weren’t going to be invited.”

  “I know,” Maeve said with an elegant wave of her hand. “But that’s all changed.”

  “When did it change?” Katani asked pointedly. “I mean, you are talking about the kind of party where things need to be done in advance . . . like mailing out printed invitations, choosing a menu, ordering personalized party favors, and even picking a DJ.”

  “Don’t worry so much, Katani,” Maeve told her, rocking back on her heels, ready to return to the dance floor. “It will all work out, and I’ll have the party of my dreams.” She paused, then smiled her award-winning grin. “I’m talking to my mom about it tonight!”

  CHAPTER

  3

  One Perfect Pink Dress

  The BSG left the party loaded down with goodies and giveaways. Maeve wore a baseball cap she’d won in a limbo contest. Isabel and Charlotte had hand-painted shirts, Katani looked stylish in a brand-new pair of huge sunglasses and a glowing necklace, and Avery had some hilarious photos the BSG took in one of those booths where you all squish onto one seat. Oh, and then there were the “Henry Yurt Bar Mitzvah” tote bags that all the guests received to fill with their stuff.

  “Looks like you five made off with all the loot,” Charlotte’s dad remarked. He’d volunteered to meet the girls at the museum and ride the subway home with them.

  “Oh, Dad! It was amazing,” Charlotte gushed. “But I’ll tell you later.”

  “We want all the details about Sophie’s visit!” Katani added.

  No one seemed to notice that Maeve just sat there, preoccupied with her own thoughts while the others planned Sophie’s Boston visit day by day.

  When they reached their stop in Brookline, Maeve had a whole speech to her mom worked out in her head. My dream party has to come true! It just has to! she told herself.

  “Call me tomorrow.” Isabel stuck her thumb and pinky out like a phone as she headed for her aunt Lourdes’s car.

  “I’ll be on IM,” Avery announced.

  Charlotte waved. “And I’ll send an e-mail as soon as I hear back from Sophie!”

  Katani leaned over and whispered in Maeve’s ear, “Good luck with your mom tonight.”

  Maeve nodded, then she straightened her new Henry Yurt baseball cap and started walking the short distance to her family’s home above the Brookline Movie House. I wonder what kinds of gifts I should hand out at my party. Maybe faux jewelry and movie gift cards and boxes of theater-style candies—

  Suddenly Maeve stopped in her tracks. Her head turned, slowly, until she was gazing over her shoulder into the darkened windows of Think Pink. Did I just see what I think I saw? She put it in reverse, stared into her favorite boutique, and gasped.

  Ms. Pink must have changed the window display that very afternoon! The party favors were completely forgotten as Maeve stood, jaw dropped, looking up at the most perfect pink dress she’d ever seen. This is the most amazing, glorious gown in the history of the world!

  The top of the raspberry pink dress swooped slightly off the mannequin’s shoulders. A satin sash with just the right amount of shine adorned the empire waist, and the soft fabric trailed down to the floor in a shimmering cascade. The simple elegance of the gown was totally movie star glam and beyond perfect, but it was the sequins that sold it for Maeve.

  Sewn into the fabric, all over the dress, top to bottom, were tiny sparkles. They cast rainbows even in the faint glow of the street lamps, and Maeve could only begin to imagine how the sequins would flash as she entered the brightly lit ballroom of her party. Maeve saw herself parading down the red carpet, her Hollywood gown sparkling as she moved. She’d glow and glimmer, as if she were wearing a thousand stars.

  Maeve was breathless. I have to have that
dress. Have to. Have to. Have to.

  The Battleground

  Maeve sprinted the short distance remaining to her home and hustled up the stairs at top speed.

  “Mom! I’m home,” she announced, bursting through the door of their apartment.

  “Shhh. You’ll wake Sam,” Maeve’s mom called in a soft voice from the kitchen. “Come have a glass of milk and tell me about the party.”

  Maeve was too jazzed to drink anything, but if her mom was sitting down, that was a good sign. Carol Kaplan was always easier to talk to when she was relaxed.

  “Coming,” Maeve called quietly, setting her tote of favors in the hallway and taking off her shoes. When she passed the hall mirror, she frowned at her boring, lavender dress. Hopefully she’d never have to wear it again. Because I’ll have a gown worthy of a star!

  “Careful of Gettysburg,” Carol warned, poking her head out of the kitchen and motioning to the mess on the floor in the living room.

  But it was too late. Maeve’s bare foot landed solidly on a blue plastic soldier carrying a bayonet. “Owww,” she yelped. After confirming that she wasn’t bleeding, Maeve stood the soldier up again. Honestly, Maeve thought, It’s creepy how much Sam knows about war. Her brother loved historic battles and was always reenacting them. Messing up the battle right before an incredibly important talk with her mom was not a good idea.

  Maeve carefully navigated the rest of the way through Sam’s mini military encampment, noting that the Confederates were holding their own. There were a lot of dead Union soldiers piled up in a shoebox cemetery.

  In the kitchen her mom sat at the little table, a coffee mug in one hand, book in the other.

  “Whatcha reading?” Maeve plopped down in a seat across the table.