It's the talk of the town: party. This Friday. Caroline's house.
"Who?"
Perhaps.
"Or Cori." Annabel simply shrugs in response to her friend. "Whatever."
It's the young girl's first time doing something like this, something quite daring. Coraline considers her parents have had it relatively good. Besides conquering the Beldam and destroying the Other World at the ripe young age of thirteen, she hasn't done anything spectacular since.
"Remember there's frozen lasagna in the freezer," Mrs. Jones repeats for the umpteenth time from the wheezing Volkswagen as it backs out of the driveway. "I told Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible to check on you and Mr. Bobinsky should have our number!"
There's a gardening convention in the city over, which just so happens to coincidentally fall on the same exact date that Coraline may have slipped to a few people at school that she'll be hosting a spring party. More coincidentally enough, it also seems to be the same day of her sixteenth birthday: the second Friday of April.
The Cat stares at her intently, blue eyes almost glowing, as she gives a distracted wave. "Stop looking at me like that. It's not like the first time they've forgotten. No big deal."
Because, quite honestly, Coraline's okay. Absitively posolutely okay. Thus, she repeats this mantra, in her head (where she always is), as she bustles around the house, hanging Japanese lanterns, lighting incense, and riffling through cassettes to drown the noise of Mr. Bobinsky practicing upstairs with the jumping mice. At least the young girl can count on other people to have fun with. Be silly with. Coraline runs upstairs, Cat twirling around her mustard yellow socks, as she makes her way to her room, cluttered with old books and unfinished homework. It's reaching 7 o'clock.
"Aha!" Digging through her closet, she finds the bag of food she bought earlier particularly for this special occasion: chips, dip, cookies, and some beer a few friends snagged for her.
A Cheshire grin curls her mouth at the thought. The young girl's glad she can use the plural form of friends now. It had been a somewhat difficult adjustment to gain some friends in Ashland, a place in which there seemed to be only one other kid in existence: Wybie. Yet, school had introduced her to Ross, Stanley, and Arthur. Eventually, Annabel Lee didn't seem all too horrible after a while. So, she didn't need Wybie as much. Didn't need to go exploring as much. And Coraline Jones definitely didn't need her parents as much.
7:16.
"Yo! It's Cori. Just checking to see if you're on your way or not..." She wraps the cord around her finger as she lay upside down on the couch, leaving a message for Ross. "So, yeah, just let me know!"
7:24.
"Oh, that's today?" Arthur's voice crackles on the other end. "I thought it was next week?"
Coraline scowls. "No, it's tonight. Duh. Wait, who's that in the background? Is Stanley with you?"
"Huh? Wait, give me a second. Man, I can barely hear you." There's music in the background and his voice sounds too distant.
"Art, you're starting to sound like a robot." She presses the phone close to her ear. "Art?"
But the signal is quickly dropped.
7:46.
"Cori, I'm totally sick! Like really sick. It's totally bogus." Annabel coughs again.
She closes her eyes and stifles a sigh. "No, it's okay. Yeah. Just get some rest. Hope you feel better."
8:06.
Coraline swings on the front porch with Cat curled beside her. A light breeze flutters through her, tickling her purple streaked hair. She brushes the strands aside and takes a sip of beer as she listens to the crickets singing in the starry night. But, just as quickly, the young girl spits it out, face contorted in pure disgust.
"Tastes like shit, huh?"
The can flies from her hand, clanking on the mahogany wood and spilling the dark liquid at the sound of his voice. Wybie freezes in the front yard, hands stuffed in a well-worn army jacket. His green eyes appear to glow in the moonlight.
"S-sorry. I didn't mean to" –
"It's fine." Coraline wipes her mouth. "Whatever."
The boy stands there silently, shuffling his boots in the grass until Cat runs to him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Coraline watches as Wybie crouches, petting Cat behind the ears with a lopsided grin. She barely speaks to him these days and isn't exactly sure what possessed her to invite the old friend. Or, better yet, have Annabel ask Lunette to tell Gary to invite him.
"The party's already over. It ended pretty early actually." Coraline picks up the beer can and chucks it into the yard. She isn't quite sure if he can still read her like a book, sensing her obvious lies, but needs a distraction regardless.
"Oh. Should I…should I go?"
She shrugs, sitting back as he picks up Cat and ambles up the creaky steps. "There's leftover chips and dip if you want. I don't really care."
This isn't particularly how the young girl envisioned her sixteenth birthday. So many other girls make it such a grand day – lavish parties, Arabic dancers, and Chinese fireworks. True, she never wanted anything that extreme but even a card would simply do now. A mere slap on the back.
"I guess I should get going then. But, uh…" Wybie runs a hand through his messy hair. "Here. This is for you."
Coraline's eyebrow shoots up as she watches Wybie drop Cat and pull a thin package from under his jacket. She bites her lip as she holds the gift and taps her foot as she begins unwrapping it.
"Oh…"
"I remember it's your birthday and I wasn't sure if this was, like, a party for it or whatever but…but I just guessed…"
Flying Monstrous Wonders. Book 91.
"I'm not sure if you still read them or not but I saw it at a garage sale so" –
"Thanks." She gives a tiny, fleeting smile in contrast to the loud, thud, thud, thumping of her touched heart. "A lot. Really, Wybie."
"No problem…Jonesy."
The young boy sits down next to her – not too close, she notices – and twiddles his thumbs. Her fingers graze the binding of the book as the two sit silently, listening to the crickets, until 10pm.
A/N: Thanks to my guest review! (I changed the eye colors!) Sorry these "snippets" are getting longer by the minute...