When the party broke up, the girls went upstairs to Honey's room. They spent most of the rest of the night giggling and gossiping. The sleepover had been planned ages ago, but that was before she had any idea how the evening would turn out.
Alone with her friends in Honey's bedroom, Trixie started to have second thoughts about the evening's progression.
"I don't know what I thought I was proving," she admitted ruefully. "I just wanted to get his attention away from all those girls. Of course, if I throw myself at him, he's going to take it."
Di looked unconvinced. "Trixie, I think he probably could have found another girl. I'm pretty sure you weren't the only person there willing to kiss Jim Frayne. I don't think it's throwing yourself at him that made him focus on his chances with you."
Her eyes glimmered with hope for a second but then fell. "But he already told me he doesn't want to be my boyfriend. He told me to date other people. All that. You remember? He even said it again last night before I threw myself at him. You should be able to do whatever you want," she said, echoing his words.
Honey rubbed Trixie's arm sympathetically. "I think Di has a point. Everything Jim says indicates this isn't about you. He obviously wants to be with you. It's like he's just really convinced that he can't be your boyfriend right now, even if he wants to be." She paused then added hesitantly, "No offense, but is he right?"
Trixie was confused. "Right about what?"
Di and Honey looked at each other for a moment, then Di finished the thought. "Well, I mean, you are kind of…independent. We love it, we love YOU, don't get us wrong," Di added hurriedly. "But you definitely give off, like, "don't tell me what to do" vibes. I can see where Jim would think that being your boyfriend might kind of smother you. And then you'd feel like he was the boss of you, and we all know how you like that." She shrugged a little. "I'm not saying any of it's true. I'm just saying that he's not totally off base, thinking that you might resent having limits put on you. Especially if he isn't even around most of the time."
Trixie bit her lip, thinking this over. After a moment she simply said, "Do you ever think Jim knows me better than I know myself?"
"Yes," Honey and Di both answered in unison.
Trixie scrunched her face at both of them, then changed the subject. She picked up a bottle, waving it around. "What's this for? Skin lightening cream?" she read from the bottle. "For the removal of uneven skin tones, such as freckles and sunspots." She stared at Honey, wide-eyed. "There's a cream that gets rid of freckles? Are you freakin' kidding me, Madeline Wheeler? No wonder I look the way I do, no one's ever explained the rules to me! I didn't know I was supposed to have a cream," she accused.
Honey giggled. "There's nothing wrong with your freckles, Trixie. Besides, it kind of burns."
"Do not let application set longer than 15 minutes," she read aloud from the back of the bottle. "Test for sensitivity before use. Come on, it can't be that bad," she cajoled them. "Let's try it."
"I don't even have freckles," Di protested.
"It says skin lightening," Trixie argued. "I thought our skin was always supposed to be lighter. Isn't that girly? I mean, I'm not the expert here."
Di sighed. "Fine, I'll do it."
Trixie was already smearing the concoction onto her face, then tossed the bottle to Diana. "15 minutes. And, go."
Di quickly applied the cream, then handed the bottle to Honey. "So what now? Cards? Tea leaves? A movie?"
Honey thought about it while she rubbed the mixture in. "What about candles? We haven't done that in a while."
Di clapped her hands. "Oh, right! Candles," she agreed. "Candles are my favorite. Remember when they predicted a big trip and a missing person before we went to Idaho?" she exclaimed. "And they're easier to read than tea. Whenever we do tea leaves, it's like a weird inkblot test. Everything kind of looks like the same nothing."
Trixie gestured aimlessly at her face. "This stuff smells weird," she complained.
Honey and Di both ignored her. "I'll be right back," Honey announced, scurrying out of the room.
Di started rifling through the makeup on Honey's dresser, though Trixie couldn't imagine she hadn't seen it a million times before. "Any news on Hallie's visit in August?" she questioned. Di and Hallie had become fast friends when Hallie visited in the past. Trixie wasn't surprised that Diana was asking for
Trixie nodded. "I think her flight comes in on August 6. Is that a Tuesday? Whatever Tuesday is. She's gonna stay for two weeks and go back that Wednesday. School starts that Monday for her, so it gives her a chance to visit and still be ready for school."
Di gave Trixie a sideways look, but before she could say anything else, Honey opened the door. Honey called, "Heads up," and tossed the candle into the room. Trixie caught it, setting it on the dresser. Then she faced Di directly. "What?" she asked bluntly, knowing Diana had something on her mind.
Di shrugged. "I guess I'm just wondering what your plans are for Hallie. Are you glad she's coming? Mad? She's not always your favorite."
Trixie laughed. "That's putting it mildly! No, I think it will be okay. I know she used to drive me batty, but now she's not so bad. I think she got more mature."
Di nodded sarcastically. "Oh, right, mature. It's hard to keep up with the advanced sophistication of Miss Beatrix Belden," she teased good-naturedly.
Trixie threw a pillow at her. "Shut up, Di. You know what I mean. We get along all right now. She's not as annoying as she was when we were kids. She just wants to hang out, then she goes home. No big deal. I don't know if we could be roommates, but I can deal with her for 2 weeks. Plus I should have a license by then, so I can always leave if she bugs me," she finished with a grin.
Honey came in just then with a big bowl of ice water and a lighter. The girls quickly light the candles, and Di went first.
She sat with the lit candle, eyes closed and concentrating. After a few minutes, she let the wax start to drip into the water.
"What did you ask?" Trixie demanded. "I was just thinking about my future," Di admitted. "What I can expect in the next few years."
The girls stared into the bowl of water, as the wax dripped and formed shapes. Honey was the first to see something, squealing. "That one looks like a paintbrush!"
Trixie giggled. "I see a heart there and a D there. Who is he?" she teased. Di pushed her shoulder gently. "Maybe it's a D for Diana," she pointed out.
Trixie just rolled her eyes. "What, because you love yourself? Maybe it's D for Dan. You know he's kind of a hunk, Di. Just admit it."
Diana giggled now too. "Me and Dan?"
"Maybe," Trixie insisted stubbornly. "He's cute, right?"
Di just giggled again. "He's not Mart, but he is cute. We would have beautiful babies," she paused as if actually considering it. "Can you imagine? Like magazine ad babies."
"You would," Honey agreed. "Who breaks the news to Mart, that he's been tossed aside for beautiful babies?" she teased.
"No," Di argued playfully. "I'll keep Mart. He appreciates my cooking. I don't think Dan's homey enough for me. Gorgeous can only go so far when he's out on the street all night as a police officer, you know. I couldn't live like that."
Honey took the candle, up next. The girls scooped out the cold bits of wax from Di's reading, preparing to start over. Honey closed her eyes and concentrated. She was asking the wax who she would marry. Still, when Trixie asked her the question, she was a little embarrassed. "Like Di," she lied instead. "The future of Honey Wheeler."
She let the wax drip into the bowl for a while, then blew out the candle. The girls all leaned over, peering into the images. "I see a bunch of dots," Trixie pointed out. "4-6-7," she counted. "7 dots, in a group. Then 2 more, over here."
"There are 7 Bob-Whites," Di pointed out.
"Then what about the other two dots?" Trixie demanded.
Di shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't make the future, I just read it."
Trixie stared into the bowl a while longer. "I see a B! 2, actually!" she exclaimed, pointing.
"Brian Belden," Di gasped.
Honey shook her head. "I don't think it's Brian," she objected.
Di looked at her wide-eyed. "Honey, you can't doubt the wax."
Trixie wrinkled her brow. "I think that one's not a B, anyway," she admitted. "They were pushed together. Now it looks like an M."
"Why did you get my M?" Di accused. Honey put her hands up defensively. "It doesn't have to be M for Mart!" she protested. "I don't want Mart!"
"What's wrong with Mart?"
"Nothing!" Honey tried to assure her. "Nothing's wrong with him, he's just not my type. It could be M for anything. M for Mangan," she pointed out.
Di shrieked. "Mangan! Oh, it would be adorable. You can have his beautiful babies! Can't you picture it, the poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks with the heiress? It's like a novel. It's so Uptown Girl," Di gushed. "The princess and the stable boy."
Trixie snorted. "First of all, that's the opening of a dirty movie, not a novel. Second of all, Regan would be the stable boy."
Honey flushed and hid her face with one hand. With the other, she shoved the candle toward Trixie. "Gross, Trixie."
Trixie just shrugged, taking the candle. "What? Regan's kind of hot. You could do worse, Miss Wheeler," she teased.
"You just say that because he has red hair," Di pointed out.
"I do not," Trixie flushed. "Honey's dad has red hair, too."
Honey yelped. "Gross, Trixie," she protested again.
"I never said your dad was hot, I said Regan was hot! Di's the one that – oh, never mind," she huffed. She instead lit the candle. Di pulled out the old wax so that Trixie could have her turn. She closed her eyes, thinking, then let the wax drip into the bowl.
"I see an ax," Di said after a moment. Honey and Di's gaze met and they shrieked together, "Dan!"
Trixie looked annoyed. "You and Honey can take turns for all I care, but I am NOT having Dan's beautiful babies!" she retorted emphatically. "Dan and I would have a ton of fun, for like, a week. It would be a total blast. But in the end, I'd eat him alive."
Di opened her mouth to protest but stopped. "Yeah," she agreed reluctantly. "You probably would. He's better off with Honey. She'd protect his sensitive, brooding side."
"I asked the wax what my career would be, not about dumb boys," Trixie informed her. "Keep your eyes peeled for C-I-A."
After a few minutes of silence, Honey hesitantly offered, "That one might be an F…"
Di agreed. "F for Frayne."
Trixie sighed. "Dammit, Di, stop thinking about boyfriends. The question was careers. F for FBI?" she offered, looking at both of them.
They just sort of shrugged indifferently, and Honey patted her face. "I think it's time to wash this off," she changed the subject, walking into her bathroom.
Trixie and Di gazed into the wax again. "Is that a rainbow?" Trix pointed. "Or maybe a bridge?" she suggested. "Upside down U?" Di offered, trying to be helpful.
"What about that one?" Trixie gestured again. Di studied it for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "It sort of looks like a tooth." Trixie just shook her head, officially over the nonsense.
"Oh my God, Honey, hurry up," Trixie complained. "This stuff burns!"
"It's only been 11 minutes," Di pointed out, looking at her watch. "Beauty is pain. Besides, this was your idea."
"Well, why would you listen to me? I'm insane," Trixie retorted. "I'm going to find another bathroom to wash my face. I can't take this any longer."
"It's not that bad, Trixie," Di called after her. But Trixie was already out of the room, and Di just rolled her eyes.
Jim could hear the girls giggling most of the night, from his own room just across the hall. He was used to it, the noise and commotion when they had a sleepover. He didn't mind, usually. It always took him a little while to adjust, but eventually, he could sort of tune it out as background noise.
Tonight, though, after the crazy night he already had, it was harder to detach. To separate from the sound of fun and laughter in the other room, to not wonder – what were they doing and why was it so funny?
Every time he'd start to get comfortable, ready to fall asleep, he'd hear a giggle and wish he was part of the party in Honey's room. Not in a creepy way, it just sounded so much more interesting on that side of the wall.
He heard Trixie open the door of Honey's room, even though he'd never admit it. Admitting that he head her would be admitting that he was listening – a fact he'd deny till the day he died. But he did hear her. He slid out of his bed, following her. He never even stopped to wonder why.
But he did, at least, stop to think that if he didn't stop spending every spare moment with her, it was going to be awfully difficult to go back to college in the fall alone.
He chased her footsteps in the hallway, downstairs, and finally "bumped" into her in the staff kitchen.
He flicked on the light in the kitchen, knowing she was standing by the sink. She turned to face him, one hand under the running tap water, waiting for the water to warm up.
"What happened to your face?" Jim couldn't help but blurt out. Smooth, man, real smooth. "What is that?"
Trixie scrubbed at her face roughly. "It's for freckles," she admitted. "You should probably be wearing it," she continued, her eyes lighting up. "You have more freckles than anybody."
Jim eyed her warily. "What's wrong with freckles?"
Trixie just shrugged. "I don't know. Ask the makeup people. This gets rid of freckles." She wiped some of the cream from her face, countering Jim. "Here. Let me help."
He grabbed her wrist. "Trixie, don't put that crap on me. My freckles are fine. I'll keep them."
She eyed him in disapproval. "Are you saying mine aren't?"
He laughed. "Don't turn this on me! I never told you to get rid of your freckles!"
She giggled, chasing him as he backed away carefully. "We can't waste it, Jim. It's for freckles, and you have freckles."
He could feel himself losing the upper hand. She moved closer, closing in on him. There was nowhere to go and he would soon be trapped. His mind reached for a way out of this, especially quietly, at this late hour.
She leaned closer when he deftly grabbed her waist and spun her. Now she was against the counter, and he had his freedom. He moved so that she was pinned in, grabbing the hand with the cream that she kept threatening him with.
It was ridiculously immature, but he just couldn't help it. He smashed her hand against her own face. "Why are you hitting yourself?" he whispered in a low voice. "Why are you hitting yourself, Trixie?! Stop! Stop hitting yourself!" Then, with his index finger, he traced an "L" on her forehead. Finally, with an almost maniacal laugh, he darted back up the stairs.
He ran into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He waited a moment. There was silence. Just when he had given up, assumed she left, he finally heard her. The sound of her sliding down the door and sitting on the hallway floor. "Jim?" she called in a low voice.
"Go to bed," he whispered back.
"Good night, Jim."
"Good night. Trixie."
It wasn't much later, maybe a day or two, when the guys stopped in at Wimpy's. Brian and Jim missed the food when they were at school. Mart, of course, was always ready for food. And they were hitting a movie anyway.
But when they walked in, they were surprised by the crowd. For a Tuesday night during summer break, there were a lot of people there. Most of them were high school kids. Jim and Brian grabbed a small table, trying to ignore the boisterous high school boys. Mart and Dan waved a bit, calling a few hellos, but sat with their friends quickly.
That is, until Mike Larson slimed his way up to their table. Mike was a peer to Dan and Mart, though they didn't exactly call him a friend. Brian and Jim straight up found him detestable. Neither of them had ever liked Mike, though Brian hid it better than Jim. He sat down next to Jim, leaning across the table for one of Brian's fries. Apparently, even Mike knew Brian was the more tolerant one.
"Hey, college men!" he greeted, but it sounded weirdly passive-aggressive. Like it was supposed to be an insult, even if no one else understood why. "How's it going, guys? Finally out of little old Sleepyside, huh? What's that like, right? How's Trixie, you guys still together?" he asked Jim.
A million thoughts entered Jim's head, all at once. We were never together. Yes. No. She's fine. She's mine. She's not. I have a bracelet to prove it. But finally, he looked awkwardly at Brian and just said, "We're not dating." It was weird because it was the most honest, simple answer. But it felt like a lie, as soon as it came out of his mouth.
Mike's eyebrows shot up, clearly at least a little surprised. "Yeah? Well, you and Honey?" he directed this part at Brian. "You guys done too?"
Brian shifted uncomfortably, then looked up at Jim. He was clearly uneasy, and like Jim, not sure what to say to such a blunt question. Finally, he just answered, "We're not dating, no."
Mike looked even more shocked. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "I mean, not Trixie, really," he admitted. "I get it. I feel like her whole thing….that would get to be a lot. I get it." Jim's teeth clenched and could feel his hand ball into a fist, dying to just clock Mike but good. What the hell did that even mean? Her whole thing! Screw that guy, seriously.
"But Honey!" Mike continued. "I can't believe you didn't lock that down. That's some prime meat, there. In fact," he raised his voice loudly, for his friends nearby to hear. "I call dibs on Honey, okay, Brian? Dibs!"
Brian's face was screwed up tight, his lips pursed. Stiffly, he replied, "No, you don't. Leave her alone, Mike."
"I thought you just said you were done," Mike queried, confused.
"I don't care," Brian retorted, his face starting to turn red with anger. "You don't call dibs on her. No one calls dibs on her. She's a person, who can pick who she wants to date. And who she doesn't. She's not a goddamn car seat. Take your dibs and shove it up your ass."
As disturbed as Jim was, even he was a little surprised to hear Brian so angry. But Mike just leaned over, passively threatening and smug. "So what if she wants to date me? I have a lot to offer, you know."
"She can do what she wants," Brian replied, uncomfortably.
"Anything?" Mike was openly taunting him now. "So if I can make her beg for it, it's cool if I pop her cherry? Give it to her good? I mean, if that's what she wants, right?"
Brian and Jim both stood up, but Mart and Dan intervened. Honey wasn't going to appreciate anyone defending her honor, and Trixie would straight up eat them alive.
"Leave her alone," Dan warned before they left. "She's too good for you, and she knows it. You're wasting your time."
Mike just smiled, cocky as ever. "I guess we'll see," he countered.
Di and Mart were deep in conversation when Trixie entered the living room. Di looked disturbed, a strained look in her eye. Her head was resting in Mart's lap, laying across the couch. When she saw Trixie, she cried out loudly, "Trix! Oh, thank goodness you're here! I need your help! I'm in trouble!"
Trixie was used to Di's over-dramatic nature. She just looked, first from Di to Mart. But Mart looked serious, too, and she paused. "You're not…" she trailed off for a minute. "You're in trouble? Seriously?" she asked incredulously. "Martin Andrew Belden, how could you?!"
Mart and Di looked at each other, first, in confusion. Then Di yanked her head up, off his lap. "Oh my God, Trixie, no. Not that kind of trouble."
Trixie sighed. "Well, good. Geez, you guys,"
Mart and Di looked at each other again, now both sitting up. Then they talked, over each other.
"You thought I-" Di looked horrified.
"You thought she-" Mart waved a hand between him and Diana, but he looked smug.
Di smacked him on the shoulder. Trixie rolled her eyes. "Mart, shut up. If Di has a problem, I don't think this is the time to rub your ego and tell you what a lady killer you are. By the way, if you killed anyone, It's because you don't use enough deodorant."
Di giggled and he shot an evil look at her. She straightened, trying to cover her laugh with a cough.
Trixie facepalmed Mart, pushing him abruptly out of her way, and sat down. He scrambled, making room before she sat on him.
"What's wrong, Diana?" she asked.
"My birthday," she admitted sadly. "My mom is convinced that, because I'm turning 16, she needs to have a party. A big, elaborate thing. After all, Daddy has money now, so how can they not throw a sweet 16 party? It's what rich people do," she scoffed. Diana had never adjusted well to her family's money – she was born into a poor family. When her dad came into wealth, her mother had seen it as an opportunity. All the silly things, the dreams they had shared for years when they struggled to pay bills, were finally possible. Diana's mother had jumped in, full force, into acting like "one of the rich ones" even though she had no idea how to actually do it. And Diana hated it.
"Well," Trixie began haltingly, "Mrs. Wheeler had a party for Honey and it wasn't so bad. What's wrong with a party, Di?"
Di rubbed her forehead. "She's not throwing a sane party," she argued. "You know, the kind of party normal people throw. No, we're rich now. We have to have a rich people party," she continued, bitterness seeping out of her voice. "Rich people do crazy stuff, apparently," she sat up, staring at Trixie, imploring her to understand. "She's trying to get a sloth. A sloth, Trixie. Because we have enough money to be the kind of rich people that have a SLOTH at their BIRTHDAY."
Trixie stared at her, not blinking for a long time. Finally, she stood up, looking uncertainly between Di and Mart. "Should I get Honey? This feels like a Honey problem, to me."