Page 62 of Kissing is the Easy Part
Sean’s eyes widen. “You want to charge me? There’s no way I can afford you.”
As Joker says, if you’re good at something, never do it for free. But there’s no point in taking advantage of Sean’s measly budget. Before I can answer, a student trips nearby, sending a pile of books and documents flying. Sean steps back as a pencil rolls toward him. I bend down, gather the scattered papers, and hand them back. The girl hurries off.
Straightening, I smooth the front of my skirt and face Sean. “I want . . . three wishes. You have to do whatever I ask. No objections.”
He studies my face to see if I’m kidding. When he sees I’m not, he says, “You can getone.”
“Then ask someone else. Raymond throws a banger too.”
He flinches. I wonder why. Ray’s parties are legendary, and they’re also the only ones Sean ever goes to. He exhales and says, “Fine, you get two wishes. Take it or leave it. I don’t want to throw Lindsey a party that badly.”
“Deal.” I hold out my hand to shake on it, but he keeps his at his side.
“No loophole wishes that multiply into a thousand ones, like I have to do whatever you say for the rest of the senior year.”
“It goes without saying.”
“And no illegal stuff or anything that’ll get me expelled. Also, nothing embarrassing like asking me to wear a costume. I’d like to keep the five fans I have.”
“Honestly, Sean, if there’sthislittle trust between us, why are you even asking me for help?”
He grabs my hand and gives it a quick shake. “Forgive me for being wary. I tend to be cautious when I’m making deals with the devil.”
* * *
At lunch the next day Sean and I take the corner table. I unveil the master plan—my vision: the ultimate birthday bash, not only an event, but anexperience.
Guest List: Carmen got Lindsey’s list of favorite people by pretending it was for a sociology project. Genius.
Event Coverage: Daniel, Madison’s boyfriend (newly onboarded and fresh off his ninety-day probation), will take photos of Lindsey under the excuse of a photography contest. Let’s hope he understands the assignment and meets management expectations.
Theme and Dress Code: Winter Wonderland, because it’s easy. Light blue, white, and silver. Not the most original, but I like fairies in snow, and that’s enough reason.
Venue and Logistics: Sean’s house. His parents will be conveniently busy that night because I got them tickets to a jazz concert. My parentshappenedto have these, buttragicallycan’t go, so the Fosters—being the kind, selfless people they are—agreed to take them off my hands. Genius, again.
Décor and Atmosphere: Ice sculptures on the back patio, silver streamers, white and blue balloons, a disco ball, lanterns, and a projector casting snowflakes and stars.
Entertainment: Josie’s band, Fishnets, will be performing live. We’ll also have a Polaroid station because nothing sayselitepartylike instant-film proof you were there.
Food and Drink: A white-chocolate fountain, designer cupcakes with sprinkles, cookies with frosting, some light-blue drinks like Calpis and sparkling soda water, and maybe a cotton candy machine.
Signature Mocktail: A stunning, elegant, one-of-a-kind creation called The Arctic Kiss of a Frostbitten Celestial Goddess (or Arctic Kiss for short). It’s basically blue lemonade with edible glitter, but branding is everything.
“I kind of want pizza at the party.” Sean glances at the cafeteria line, but he takes one look at me and clears his throat. “Never mind. Doesn’t go with the theme colors.”
“Now we’re on the same page.” Scanning the room, I take in the glorious display of high-school cohabitation. Plastic chairs scrape against the floor and people shuffle in and out. “I’m breaking stereotype cliques and including everyone, regardless of race, religious beliefs, and whether they look good in khakis. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like there’s going to be a lot of people.” Sean dips a potato wedge in ketchup. “How many are we talking?”
“Oh,” I say airily, “around a hundred.”
He stops midbite. “I said thirty, max!”
I wave a hand. “Please. A tight dance floor is crucial. Otherwise, people won’t let loose without alcohol. Thirty people staring at each other from across the room won’t cut it. We need density. Flow. Energy.”
He takes a long sip from his apple juice. “How can you keep this a secret with a hundred people involved? And you seriously know a hundred people well enough to invite them?”
“You have to know someonewellbefore you can invite them to a party?”
