Melissa's Party

Melissa's Party

Prompt 6/17

I was on the outside&;#8230; looking in. Or so it felt. I was never
part of the "in-crowd" but I usually managed to get close enough to get
a good look at what it could be like if I was. The popular girls never
seemed to hate me enough to push me away, instead they tolerated me, a
bit like a poor relative. Occasionally, when they were short in
numbers, they even allowed me to join in some of their activities. I
got invited to the odd parties, not, as I might have thought, because I
managed to win their approval, but more because someone couldn't make
it at short notice. I was delighted, of course, to be part of them. I
made myself believe that I didn't know I never really was.

Melissa Goodall's sixteenth birthday party was such an occasion. It was
one of the most publicised events of the year, and those who had
received an invite, on cream parchment, designed by Mrs. Goodall, made
it known that they would be there.

I hadn't received one, much to my disappointment. Hadn't Melissa spoken
to me in the corridor not a week before she sent out the invites? She
had inquired if I would share my maths homework with her since for some
inexplicable reason she couldn't find hers, and I had been certain that
I would be at her party. But no expensive parchment invite made its way
into my letterbox, and I cried myself to sleep for a few days.

The day of the party came, and the classroom was half empty. A sudden
virus, perhaps, maybe something wrong with the school dinner, who knew.
Most of Melissa's friends had complained of an upset stomach, and their
mothers had found it wise to keep them at home for the day. Melissa was
distraught. Her birthday party had to be a success, she would never
live it down if it was anything less than perfect and talked about at
least until half term. What was she to do?

I was sitting with my best friend Clare, a lanky girl with mousy brown
hair and braces, when Melissa approached me. "Umm, Teresa?" She sounded
almost shy, which was unusual for her, and got my attention.

"Hi Melissa," I said and managed a smile, even though I felt like I had
butterflies in my stomach. For a moment I almost regretted that not
many of her friends were there to see her talking to me. "Are you
looking forward to your party tonight?"

Melissa looked uncomfortable. She might have been shallow and sometimes
cruel to those who she considered unworthy of her presence, but lying
still didn't come easy to her. "You&;#8230; umm&;#8230; you never
replied to the party invite I sent you," she said and blushed deeply.
"My mother needs to know the final numbers, for the cake, you know, and
I said I'd find out if you are coming."

I tried to look surprised. "You never got my letter of reply?" I
asked.

Melissa blinked. At that moment it was clear to both of us that we knew
exactly what was going on, but Melissa couldn't back out any more than
I could not accept the invite to the party. Melissa's look of
embarrassment changed to one of anger, while I smiled triumphantly. "Of
course I'm coming," I said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world!" As
Melissa was still struggling for words, I added, "Please tell your
mother I apologise for not letting her know sooner. The letter must
have got lost in the post."

Melissa looked like she was about to explode. With an effort she
composed herself and looked at Clare. "I suppose your letter got lost
too?"

I elbowed Clare, who was gaping at Melissa like she was an alien. She
nodded silently, and Melissa turned back to me. "See you tonight then,"
she said, and with that she turned around and was gone.

"Looks like we are going to a party tonight, girl," I said to
Clare.

"Cool," she whispered, and then, still speaking quietly, "how did you
manage that?"

"Manage what?" I asked innocently. To give half the class an upset
stomach on the day of the party hadn't been easy, one of my best
strikes ever, and I wasn't about to disclose my secret.

Needless to say, the party was a bit of a disappointment, but Clare and
I still had a splendid time, and talked about it until way after half
term.