Free Birthday Girls by Jean Stone Page A

wear nylons and lipstick.” Thirteen, after all, was the magical year at Arbor Brook when young girls were expected to be transformed into young ladies.
    “Grandfather lets me wear lipstick already,” Abigail said. Poising her pen with the shocking pink ink over her slip of paper, she added, “I’m going to wish that Grandfather will take me to Venice. I want to see the gondolas.” So far, she’d not accompanied Grandfather on any of his business trips. She hoped that would change, now that she’d be thirteen, almost an adult.
    “I thought we weren’t supposed to know each other’s wishes until next year. Until we see if they came true,” Maddie said.
    “Let’s make this year an exception,” Abigail said. “Because we’ll be teenagers.”
    Kris chewed the tip of her pencil. “And no ranking on each other if we think our wishes are stupid?”
    “No ranking,” Abigail agreed.
    Maddie nodded. “Okay. So I’m going to wish that my father gets well.”
    The room grew silent. They all knew Maddie’s father had that dreaded disease … the one that began with a “c” … the one no one talked about. Maddie looked away. “What are you going to wish for, Kris?”
    Her black eyes sparkled. “A boyfriend. Definitely a boyfriend.”
    “Oh, no,” Betty Ann whined.
    “What’s wrong with that? It’s time I had one.”
    Betty Ann frowned. “You wouldn’t be in such a hurry to have a boyfriend if you had five brothers.”
    “All of whom,” Kris commented, “I’ve yet to meet.”
    “It’s because they’re stupid. All they do is ride bikes and punch each other.”
    Maddie laughed. “Okay, so we know what Kris wants. What about you, Betty Ann? What’s your important wish for when you’ll be a teenager?”
    Lowering her head, Betty Ann shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll wish for a boyfriend, too. As long as he doesn’t ride a bike.”
    Abigail folded the paper, dropped it into the bottle, and wondered why Betty Ann was wasting a perfectly good wish on something she obviously didn’t want.
    1962
    “She’s late,” Abigail said, peering out through the lace draperies, looking for Kris. “Maybe we should eat the cake without her.”
    “I can’t believe she’s riding in a car with a boy,” Betty Ann said.
    “Jack’s not just a boy,” Maddie replied. “He’s her boyfriend. Remember when you wanted one?”
    Betty Ann blinked but did not answer.
    • • •
    She liked the way Jack was rubbing her breast, liked the way her nipple got stiff and the way she felt warm and wet between her legs, just like when she put her pillow there and moved back and forth against it. Kris wondered how it would feel if his fingers slid beneath her panties—if it would feel as good when he rubbed her down
there
, as good as it felt when she did it to herself.
    She knew she was going to be late to the party, but it didn’t matter. They were fourteen now, and it seemed sort of dumb that they kept doing this little-girl stuff anyway. Maybe she should have suggested that they forget it this year, but then, Maddie’s father had died last month and Kris didn’t have the heart to say she wouldn’t be part of their birthday celebration, even though it was apparent that Betty Ann’s long-ago idea of making birthday wishes, and sealing them in a bottle so they would come true, had certainly not worked. Not for Maddie, anyway.
    Jack ran his tongue around the outside of her ear. Kris felt herself getting warmer, wetter. Then he took her hand and pulled it to his lap. The hard bulge beneath his jeans told Kris that this was what it was all about; maybe Maddie’s wish had not come true, but hers was, here and now.
    Besides, there was no way she was going to leave before she saw a penis. A live, in-the-flesh penis—
erect
, as the magazines she’d read had called it.
    When he unzipped his zipper, Kris thought she would die from impatience. And suddenly it was there. Big and shiny and wet. She reached out and