Read Online Birthday Vicious by Melissa de La Cruz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melissa de La Cruz
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Lauren was twelve now, not nine. She didnât want to do all those things they used to do. Lauren thought longingly of the shopping trip she was currently missing. So maybe the whole time Ashley would hog all the best clothes and monopolize the salesclerks, but they were sure to all get coordinated outfits for the party, and she would be left out again.
Oh well. Too late now. This afternoon was all about Sadie.
âSadie! Welcome back!â Trudy Page stood at the front double doors, a glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice in each hand. It would have been better if Laurenâs mother hadnât coordinated her Cavalli outfit to match the pomegranate juice, because Sadie looked a little afraid of the vision in bright red waiting for them when they walked up the stone slab steps.
Not for the first time since sheâd been allowed to join the Ashleys, Lauren felt an unwelcome twinge of embarrassment about her motherâs fashion sense, followed by a flood of guilt. Her mother meant so well and only wanted Lauren to be happy. Trudy just hadnât gottenover the thrill of being super rich yet; it wasnât her fault, really. All she needed was a few friends like the Ashleys to get her on track and tell her what not to buy.
Oops. Did Lauren actually think of the Ashleys as her friends? This double-agent thing was getting a little more complicated than sheâd thought.
âSweetie, itâs so good to see you again,â Trudy said, ushering an openmouthed Sadie into their vast, airy house. It was all giant panes of glass and minimalist midcentury modern furniture in front, but Mediterranean-style in the back, complete with a pillared courtyard, where the house faced the cityâs most exclusive marina.
Sergei, her ex-academic father, had requested a traditional den-slash-library, and her mother had the brainwave of decorating it like a Scottish baronial lodge, using old (i.e., last seasonâs) beige Burberry trenches for the curtains and disks cut from two-hundred-year-old Scotch bottles to build a stained-glass coffee table. But Laurenâs favorite room was the chill-out zone at the top of the house, just beneath the helipad, where the walls were white, the only furniture was oversize chocolate leather beanbags, and the controls for the Bose stereo system were hidden in the bleached ash floor planks.
She led her old friend along three of the houseâs long, slate-floored corridors to her bedroom, Sadie trailing behind like an eager puppy.
âIâve never seen a house like this,â Sadie gushed, her green plaid uniform looking more awkward and ill-fitting than ever. Really, Sadie was as awkward and ill-fitting as her clothes. âYou guys really hit it big!â
Lauren cringed a little and wished Sadie wasnât so blunt.
Sadie wandered around Laurenâs two-story bedroom with her pale blue eyes almost bulging out of her head. She plopped onto Laurenâs king-size feather bed, bouncing up and down like a little kid and then springing up again to run over to the mirrored closets that lined the roomâs long back wall.
âItâs like a . . . itâs like a palace!â she squealed, gazing at her reflection in one of the mirrored doors. âWhatâs upstairs?â
âOh, just . . . you know.â Lauren shrugged. She liked her room and was still kind of amazed by it herself, but there was something seriously uncool about Sadieâs kid-in-the-candy-store reaction.
âYou could have a whole family living up here!â Sadie had clomped up the circular staircase to the loftsleep-and-play area. âOmigod! You really couldâthere are, like, four beds up here!â
Lauren decided it wasnât time to tell Sadie about the all-Ashley sleepover earlier in the semester, the reason Trudy had had the four red-cedar bunks specially built. Anyway, Sadie was distracted by the matching cubbies packed with books, toys,
Oh well. Too late now. This afternoon was all about Sadie.
âSadie! Welcome back!â Trudy Page stood at the front double doors, a glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice in each hand. It would have been better if Laurenâs mother hadnât coordinated her Cavalli outfit to match the pomegranate juice, because Sadie looked a little afraid of the vision in bright red waiting for them when they walked up the stone slab steps.
Not for the first time since sheâd been allowed to join the Ashleys, Lauren felt an unwelcome twinge of embarrassment about her motherâs fashion sense, followed by a flood of guilt. Her mother meant so well and only wanted Lauren to be happy. Trudy just hadnât gottenover the thrill of being super rich yet; it wasnât her fault, really. All she needed was a few friends like the Ashleys to get her on track and tell her what not to buy.
Oops. Did Lauren actually think of the Ashleys as her friends? This double-agent thing was getting a little more complicated than sheâd thought.
âSweetie, itâs so good to see you again,â Trudy said, ushering an openmouthed Sadie into their vast, airy house. It was all giant panes of glass and minimalist midcentury modern furniture in front, but Mediterranean-style in the back, complete with a pillared courtyard, where the house faced the cityâs most exclusive marina.
Sergei, her ex-academic father, had requested a traditional den-slash-library, and her mother had the brainwave of decorating it like a Scottish baronial lodge, using old (i.e., last seasonâs) beige Burberry trenches for the curtains and disks cut from two-hundred-year-old Scotch bottles to build a stained-glass coffee table. But Laurenâs favorite room was the chill-out zone at the top of the house, just beneath the helipad, where the walls were white, the only furniture was oversize chocolate leather beanbags, and the controls for the Bose stereo system were hidden in the bleached ash floor planks.
She led her old friend along three of the houseâs long, slate-floored corridors to her bedroom, Sadie trailing behind like an eager puppy.
âIâve never seen a house like this,â Sadie gushed, her green plaid uniform looking more awkward and ill-fitting than ever. Really, Sadie was as awkward and ill-fitting as her clothes. âYou guys really hit it big!â
Lauren cringed a little and wished Sadie wasnât so blunt.
Sadie wandered around Laurenâs two-story bedroom with her pale blue eyes almost bulging out of her head. She plopped onto Laurenâs king-size feather bed, bouncing up and down like a little kid and then springing up again to run over to the mirrored closets that lined the roomâs long back wall.
âItâs like a . . . itâs like a palace!â she squealed, gazing at her reflection in one of the mirrored doors. âWhatâs upstairs?â
âOh, just . . . you know.â Lauren shrugged. She liked her room and was still kind of amazed by it herself, but there was something seriously uncool about Sadieâs kid-in-the-candy-store reaction.
âYou could have a whole family living up here!â Sadie had clomped up the circular staircase to the loftsleep-and-play area. âOmigod! You really couldâthere are, like, four beds up here!â
Lauren decided it wasnât time to tell Sadie about the all-Ashley sleepover earlier in the semester, the reason Trudy had had the four red-cedar bunks specially built. Anyway, Sadie was distracted by the matching cubbies packed with books, toys,
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