This year our theme was favorite vintage TV shows, and everyone was supposed to dress up as a character. We planned to have a lot of different games and contests that would revolve around the theme.
Since the party was at my house this year, it was my turn to make the invites. I had made a sample that looked just like a vintage TV. I brought it to show the girls in art so we could have time to really look it over and decide what needed to change. After Ms. Bailey called roll, I presented it with a flourish,
“Ta-da,” I exclaimed as I dramatically dropped my attempt at a TV-shaped invitation on the table.
Madison, Alyssa, and even Taylor leaned over to see it. The TV screen read:
Madison, Alyssa, & Chloe’s Annual Halloween Party
What’s On: Vintage TV shows
Show Time: Friday, October 29, 7:00 p.m.
Station: Chloe’s house
TV Directory: 4329 Meryton Street
Channel Diaclass="underline" 555-5467
Advert: RSVP to advertise you’re coming by the 19th
Alyssa gasped. “Wow, Chloe, that looks so awesome!”
“I love the way you used TV language instead of the ‘where,’ ‘when,’ and ‘at’ stuff,” Madison said.
“Okay, um, what is up with the grey bobby pin and the tin foil at the tips?” Taylor asked.
“That’s supposed to be a vintage TV antenna,” I said defensively. “Get it? See, the bobby pin is spread out like a V.”
Taylor chuckled. “I think it makes it look like a Martian.”
“Don’t listen to him, Chloe,” Madison said. “Taylor’s just jealous because he’s not invited.”
Surprisingly, Alyssa came to my defense too. “Yeah. He’s a boy anyway. His opinion doesn’t count. I think it looks fabulous.”
Both girls mock-glared at Taylor until he gave up.
“All right, all right.” He grinned as he raised his hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “I can see when I’m out numbered.” He turned to me and half bowed. “Chloe, I apologize. On second thought, it does look like a TV—Martian.”
If I hadn’t worked so hard on the invite I would’ve thrown it at him. It was easy to see that the grey cardstock and transparent vellum wouldn’t have held up against Taylor’s big head. I decided to ignore him instead.
“So, girls,” I said pointedly, “is there anything I need to change? Any glaring mistakes?”
“Nope. It’s awesome,” Madison said. “I’ve got volleyball practice until 4:00, but I can come over after if you need some help making the rest.”
“That would be great.”
“Yeah! Since its Friday we don’t have orchestra rehearsal today, so I’m free to help right after school. We could make a party out of it if you want,” Alyssa put in.
“Cool, I could totally use the help.”
“Don’t you have a hot date with Collin Farnsworth?” Taylor asked.
“No, I don’t have a date with him,” I grumbled. “I haven’t had a date with him since last month when you saw us.”
Taylor frowned. “Oops. I thought he would’ve been smart enough to ask you out again.”
I could have smacked him. “For your information I’m seeing someone.” I smiled smugly.
“Well, obviously you’re not seeing him tonight.” Why does Taylor make me want to resort to violence? “No, but he will most likely call me, which is just as good.” I turned to face Taylor. “Some guys work for a living, you know. They can’t spend every night on the town.”
“Oh . . . oh. So that’s why I’m not invited to your party, because I spend too much time on the town? Or wait! Is it because you think I don’t have a job?”
What? Where did that come from? I glanced at Madison and Alyssa, who both attempted to ignore us as they worked on their new charcoal-pencil assignments. Completely caught off guard, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and my art supplies before I answered Taylor.
Is he really jealous we’re not asking him to the party? I thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounded a tad hurt. That can’t be true. When has he ever wanted to hang out with us?
I looked over at Taylor. I guess he had decided to work on his project, too. The tense aura around him as he gathered his supplies proved he was still agitated and wanted an answer. But I didn’t know how to approach the subject.
“Taylor?” I said hesitantly.
“Yeah?” He stopped long enough to glance at me before he picked up his charcoal pencil and began to fill in the ears of a cat he had drawn yesterday.
Okay, so apparently this wasn’t going to be that easy. I tried again. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“About what?” Taylor answered without looking up.
Sheez. “About wanting an invite.”
“I didn’t say that. I just think it’s a little rude is all, talking about a big party that I’m not invited to, right in front of me.”
His eyes narrowed a bit. “So what’s the deal? Is there a reason you never include me or my friends?”
“Are you kidding me? Are you seriously saying you would want to come?”
“Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Taylor asked.
I tried to regain my composure and defend myself. There was no way he was leaving me speechless. “The whole reason we started these parties in the first place was because you and your friends never invited us to any of your parties. So why would we think you’d want to hang out with us? It’s not like you would feel comfortable anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
“Taylor, honestly, think about it. You and your friends at our party? They would freak out. Seriously. Not one of your friends would want to hang out with us.”
“What is up with you? Are you saying I’m a snob or something?”
“Taylor, this is a costume party. People are coming dressed up like something. This isn’t just a party where people hang out and drink and stuff.”
“I know. That’s what makes it sound so random and cool.”
“Maybe you don’t understand. If someone shows up not dressed in a costume they are shown the door, as in booted out of the party. This isn’t just like a thrown-together thing. We plan for months deciding on a theme and making the decorations. We spend money on this. The last thing we want is to invite someone that will make our guests feel uncomfortable.”
Taylor looked hurt. “You think I’m that guy? The one that’ll make everyone else uncomfortable?”
“No. I don’t.” I tried to smile. “You’re fine, Taylor. I mean everybody likes you. Seriously. But you’re asking us to include you and your friends. You definitely haven’t thought this through.”
“Sure I have,” he replied. “I’ve thought about it for three years.”
Why is this so hard for him to comprehend? “Let me try again.” I took a deep breath. “Kylie. You honestly think Kylie Russell would be happy dressing up and attending a party we have put together?”
“Yes.” He looked me right in the eyes.
“Really?” I stared back until he gave in.
“Okay. So probably not. But why wouldn’t you ask us—at least give us the opportunity to go?”