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23: Princess

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23: Princess

"You have to come to my house after school," Selena said, appearing next to me as I walked to EAST alongside Emmett. He shrank away and gave me a grin.

"Why?"

"Because it's Friday night, you're leaving for who knows how long in three days, and that means we have to have a sleepover with all of us. Plus some."

"Who is 'some?'" I asked suspiciously, remembering Emmett's words about a party for my birthday today.

"Just some people I know that I know you'll like because I like them and you like who I like," she said with a smile.

I sighed anxiously. "Nothing too extravagant, okay?"

She grinned. "No promises." With that, both of us made it into the classroom and I took my seat next to Emmett.

"Selena's planning something big," I groaned.

"I should know. I'm a part of it," he said sheepishly.

I scoffed and ran a hand through my hair. It was awfully hot since I was wearing a sweatshirt and leggings. I pulled it into a bun, loose and floppy because I didn't care but still effectively keeping my hair off my neck.

"It's okay. I know what she's planning, and it is something you'll like. She knows you too well to throw a big party with alcohol and possible drugs like some idiotic high school party some people at our school throw."

"Okay." I was fairly reassured by that, because I knew she did know me well enough not to do that.

"Besides, both of you kind of have a little anxiety of those after Halloween. You haven't come to any of mine since."

"That was the first party like that I'd ever been to and it didn't turn out well. I bet most parties are like that. We are just smarter than you."

"Shame," he sighed, shaking his head. "Well, you'll have fun. It's not going to be a girls night, just a hopefully small get together."

"A get together," I repeated in amusement. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that."

He shrugged with a grin.

Throughout the rest of the day, I stressed over the party. Really, I'd never had a big birthday party—at least, not since my ninth or tenth—so I didn't know what was in store.

I figured it wasn't princesses, or anything childish like I'd had. Because of the foster homes, they hadn't celebrated. There were so many kids in a few, it would have been a major pain to celebrate each of them.

In the foster parents' eyes, it wasn't in their paycheck to have birthday parties. So we got a cupcake here and there and a happy birthday.

But I won't complain much about it. I was always a "stick to the shadows, hope you aren't noticed" type of kid, so I was more than happy to be overlooked when it was my turn to be in the spotlight.

The only one who celebrated my birthday was Mr. Bole, and he was probably one of the creepiest guys I'd ever met. He was so strict, telling me how I'd get hurt if I did something wrong.

He celebrated, because there was only me and two other kids and our birthdays were fairly spaced out. I actually had a cookie cake that day. It made my entire week.

But that was shattered when Mr. Bole screamed at me for getting a C on my Geometry quiz. I still had that scar.

Most of my "parents" didn't care about grades. I had been to five or six. They kind of blurred together after a while. Almost each year, I was taken to a new one.