I grabbed my backpack, buttoned my coat, and sprinted as fast as my soon-to-be-seven-year-old legs could outside. Sure enough, within a few minutes, I saw four pairs of Ugg boots walking past me. Slowly I looked up. The matching ripped-up jeans below the same pink sweaters. It was Veronica and her clique of friends, just as I hoped. And it looks like today is their monthly “quadruplets day.” I sighed enviously, wishing I was a part of their circle. I crept behind them, clenched the white invitation in one hand, crossed my fingers for good luck on the other, and blurted out, “Would you guys like to come to my birthday party next Saturday?”

In order to understand my deep and unyielding wish to become Veronica’s friend, you have to understand her. Veronica was the queen of fashion, and larger than life in giggles, gossip, secrets, whispers, discreet smirks, apathy, and indifference.

“I sit across from you in class,” I offered quickly. If she refused the invitation, my life would be over.

I watched her nervously as she took the envelope from my hand, read the card that was inside, and turned away from me to talk with her friends. My breath seemed to freeze in my chest. I would do everything to make her come to my party. After an eternity, Veronica looked up.


“I can make it, but my friends are coming with me too,” she announced with a strange gleam in her eyes. “And also, you have to get a big, red velvet cake for your party. Make sure the message on the cake is in pink.”

I was surprised at first that Veronica bossed had just bossed me around. My family always baked a chocolate cake together for my birthday, and we never got frosted happy birthday messages on it. How can I explain this to my parents? Who cares about that, I chided myself, Veronica and her friends were coming to my birthday party. That’s all I cared about, right? I’ll figure something out about my parents eventually.

That day, if I had understood earlier why the glint in Veronica’s eyes was there when she accepted the invitation, if I had heard her ominous laugh after I ran to the school bus, then maybe I wouldn’t have ever thought of inviting her to my party.

The big day finally came, and I peeked at the store-bought cake that Veronica wanted so much. I breathed out, feeling relieved that the cake was still inside the refrigerator and the frosting on the cake was pink. Soon the guests began to arrive, but there was no sign of Veronica or her group. Did she forget? What if they were stuck in traffic and couldn’t come? Should I call the Wilkins? But I never asked Veronica for her phone number…

My mom raised her eyebrows at my worried expression. I paced around the living room impatiently. Finally, I spied the shiny, red SUV that belonged to the Wilkins parking outside the garage. Veronica hopped out, closely followed by Katie, Jetta, and Jackie. They came!!! I almost tripped over my stumbling feet as I ran outside to meet them.

“I thought you guys would never come! The others are downstairs. Would you like to go to my room? We can hang out there, just the five of us.”

Veronica made a face and glared at me. Feeling slightly hurt and bewildered, I showed them instead to the living room, where my friends were all playing games. Veronica and her friends huddled together in a circle, turning their backs from the pile of board games

What should I do? At this rate, I’ll never be friends with her. Right at this moment, my mom saved me and called from the dining room saying, “Who would like cake?”

“Come and sit next to me, Veronica,” I urged, relieved to have another opportunity to befriend her, “you can even help me blow the candles.” She shrugged, and unwillingly trailed after me to the dining room.

“Out of the way, out of the way!” my mother sang in a singsong way as she pretended to sway and wobble as she carried the beautiful red velvet cake. Veronica and her friends sniggered unpleasantly, mimicking my mom and shaking with their hand circled in front of them like unsteady ballerinas.

I felt a twitch of anger. How dare they mock my mom, especially when she was trying to be funny for the sake of my friends? I relaxed soon enough; Mom was acting like a little silly kid after all. The candles were placed, the fire lit, and I sat at the front of the table like a queen, with Veronica sitting beside me. Everything was perfect now, with my friends singing “Happy Birthday” to me and cheering when I closed my eyes, wished secretly that Veronica would like me, and blew out the candles. My mom cut the cake, and I pretended to nibble on my slice so that I could see how Veronica liked it.

“Didn’t I tell you I don’t like red velvet cake?” The table, which was full of chatter just before, became dead silent.

Tears of confusion welled up in my eyes. Trying to keep my voice steady, I quavered, “You t-t-old me to get-t the red-velvet cake. Wha-at’s wrong wi-ith….”

Ignoring my half-spoken sentence, Veronica turned to her friends, whispering and giggling about someone stupid who listened to her like a dumb baby.



They never really wanted to be friends with me. The cake was just a mean practical joke they played.

I would like the say I beared my humiliation with a stiff upper lip, but I didn’t. I would like to say that I stood up bravely to Veronica and gave her a piece of my mind, but I didn’t do that either. I would like to say that I eventually forgave Veronica’s mean trick and became friends with her that day, but I didn’t and we aren’t.

What I did do was run up the stairs into my bedroom. Then I cried. I cried because I was made a fool out of-----because I had sincerely believed I was able to become Veronica’s friend. So devastated was I of my mistake, so crushed was my hope that I could become friends with anyone and everyone, that one year later, I baked a chocolate cake, lit candles, and spent my birthday with me, myself, and I.