By Carrie Karasyov
-- A brand-new cloth wardrobe from Saks -- a personal jet to Holland to pick the fitting tulip -- A visitor checklist that opponents red-carpet after-parties -- And a birthday bash that blows all others thoroughly out of the water ok, it is not your usual birthday want checklist, yet Whitney Blake and Sophie Mitchum are whatever yet typical. i am Laura Finnegan -- thrift-store junkie and scholarship scholar at Tate, our posh all-girls highschool in big apple. keep in mind that, i am not like Whit and Soph -- lovely, well known, and wealthy -- yet that does not cease us from being BFFs. Sophomore yr was once going nice, till they begun tuning in to the all-Sweet 16, all-the-time channel. Now tempers are flaring, Prada luggage are flying, and men are being tossed round in vicious tug-of-war battles. All this, simply to see whose candy 16 reigns ideal?
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Extra info for Bittersweet Sixteen
Way,” answered Sophie. “I just asked Daddy this morning if I could bring you guys and he said yes! ” squealed Whitney. “I am so trying on this cutie frock,” she said, marching into the dressing room. “Laura,” said Sophie, turning my way before hitting the dress ing room herself. “Aren’t you gonna try anything on? ” “Oh, no, I’m all set,” I said, somewhat self-consciously, as my two pals tore off their outfits behind the deep-purple curtains. Ninety minutes and God knows how much dough later, we were out on Avenue A and I was helping Whitney and Sophie find a cab to share uptown; we were all sleeping over at Whitney’s house that night, and I had to stop home to pack my bag.
The 38 Bradley boys called. They want to hang as soon as possible. I told them that we were, like, busy with the St. Peter’s boys tonight but maybe next week. ” “Good idea,” I said, sitting on the bench. Bradley and St. Peter’s were the boys school equivalents of Tate, and our Bradley guy group was made up of Max, Josh, Bobby—and Jake Watkins. There was ST (sexual tension) and little flirtfests here and there, but so far, it was nothing heavy—except for Kaitlin, who seemed to have hit it off with Max.
I was thrilled to have engineered a happy ending. 50 The next week brought passed notes with brainstorm lists of potential favors, color schemes, tablecloth materials, and music, all with my input, which was fun to give. Since they were eager to have another opinion on everything, I figured since I wasn’t having a bash I could help with the fun parts of theirs—all the creative stuff and none of the stress! Or the bills. After school we hit the newsstand and hoarded every mag, clipped pages of party looks from Vogue, and bought binders from Blacker and Kooby to start files on each aspect of the party.