“Wait a minute,” Elena narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “We can’t be having your party here, right?”

“We are, actually!” Tabitha laughed. “What, bad choice?”

The building was a large, rather nondescript single-story edifice with a big parking lot, with a Florence Fundome sign the only indication that it might be anything other than an office building of some kind.

“A… roller-skating rink?” Alicia blinked. “I mean, not a bad choice, but—Tabitha can you even skate? I mean with you recovering from surgery and all that?”

“Nope!” Tabitha answered with a bright voice. “I both can’t skate and can’t skate. I don’t know how to yet, and also, I’m prohibited from physical activities until I get a doctor’s all-clear.”

“Then, why…?” Elena made a face.

“That’s what I said!” Mrs. Macintire shook her head in dismay. “Karen and I were pushing for the bowling alley instead, but—well, this is what Tabitha wanted.”

“Roller-skating sounds more fun for everybody!” Tabitha explained. “I want everyone to have fun, even if I can’t, just yet. I can watch and still have a good time. Bowling sounded a bit too dull for Hannah or my cousins, and… yeah. My choice. Since it’s December, that rules out almost all of the good outside party ideas, and since I can’t do anything active anyways, there isn’t much left that’s good for a party.”

“Can you girls skate?” Mrs. Macintire turned her bemused smile to the pair sitting in the back.

“Yeah, I mean, I think so,” Alicia confirmed. “Never roller-skated, but I’ve been ice-skating with my mom before, at least? Basically the same.”

“I have roller blades at home,” Elena nodded as well. “I can skate.”

“Then, when we come back here sometime this spring, both of you can teach me,” Tabitha said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “In the meantime, it won’t even just be skating—Mrs. Williams said there’s another little arcade, there’ll be pizza, there’s a DJ, apparently. It’ll be cool?”

“It’s one of the places Karen has marked in her little book for our church’s youth group and all the trips they go on,” Mrs. Macintire said. “She always picks out good stuff.”

The girls disembarked, stepping out into the parking lot and stretching again in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Olivia’s mother—Mrs. Moreno—drove a Toyota Corolla that was just pulling into the lot. From a quick glance through the windows, Olivia and Clarissa seemed to be talking and socializing with one another at the very least, though Ashlee appeared to glower in silence. The third car wasn’t in sight yet, but with Officer Williams and the two teenage boys all heckling each other and laughing like idiots before even leaving the theater, Mrs. Williams had dubbed her Taurus the clown car—who knows what detour had delayed them.

Before leaving the Acura behind, Mrs. Macintire popped open the trunk and Tabitha watched in bemused embarrassment as Sandra, Elena, and Alicia each grabbed a different box wrapped up in gift paper. Alicia cradled hers against her chest as if its contents were fragile, Elena casually propped up the present she carried against one hip as she walked as if it definitely wasn’t fragile, and the one Mrs. Macintire carried was slimmer but appeared to be heavier than the other two. Tabitha very honestly had no idea what to expect or what anyone would even give her.

I mean. I asked my parents for A BUCKET for my birthday. Just so I could have one for composting. I don’t think I’ve ever really had much in the way of expectations, there. Part of it just goes in hand with having a birthday so close to Christmas, part of it’s just growing up poor.

The trunk door was slammed shut, and the girls began to meander towards the Fundome entrance.

“But, still,” Elena couldn’t help but criticize. “You should’ve picked some place where you’re not—I dunno, what are you even going to do? Sit off to the side and watch everyone else skate? For your birthday?”

“Tthpphphhh!” Tabitha blew a raspberry at her friend. “It’s my birthday, I can pick whatever I want.”

“It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to—cry if I want to—!” Alicia sang out.

“Very funny,” Tabitha sniffed and put on her most imperious voice. “I get to sit and be comfortable with cake and pizza and presents, while I watch all of you plebians roll around for my amusement. Crashing into each other and falling down and whatnot, I imagine.”

“Oh, it’s that kind of party, is it?” Mrs. Macintire teased. “C’mon, let’s head in.”

The inside of the Florence Fundome, in Tabitha’s opinion, looked like a bowling alley which had all of its lanes removed and simply replaced with an enormous flat expanse of polished hardwood flooring. It was a little bit of a letdown right after visiting the more grandiose Sandboro Theaters complex, but there was also a certain simplicity to the Fundome that gave it plenty of charm. Several dozen skaters were whirling giant loops around the rink, the aroma of fresh pizza hung in the air, and No Doubt could be heard blasting from speakers—Tabitha recognized Gwen Stefani’s voice and the jaunty ska meets punk rock melody, but couldn’t quite recall which song this was.

“It’s pretty nice!” Tabitha remarked. “I like it.”

“Golly, yeah,” Alicia grinned. “It’s just the keenest!”

“Would you stop that already,” Elena rolled her eyes. “Made me gag already in the movie, let’s not just keep revisiting it.”

“We’ve got a reservation,” Mrs. Macintire said. “They’ll give us a whole little section of booths to ourselves, and you’re all covered for your skates—we’re under the name TEAM TABBY, you should be able to just go up and tell them what size you need. I’m gonna get us some pizzas ordered and in the oven, I am absolutely famished.”

“Team Tabby?” Tabitha laughed. “I think I see—yep, we’re right over there.”

A quartet of booths taking up an entire corner of the dining area was roped off with caution tape, but a paper printout taped to one of the dangling lines read TEAM TABBY, and featured a rudimentary cartoon cat likely summoned from the clip art collection of some archaic version of Microsoft Word. Wow, just—wow. That whole printout brings me back. I haven’t even seen anyone using comic sans in years and years, and the last time I DID see anyone using that font, it was only in memes specifically making fun of comic sans!

They ducked beneath the caution tape and claimed a table, setting down the presents just as Olivia, Clarissa, and Ashlee trooped in. Tabitha had silently volunteered to hold down their group of tables while the other girls went to the rental counter to get fitted for skates, but to her surprise Olivia joined her, scooching into the opposite bench. It was easy to feel like she’d been remiss in getting to know the dark-haired teen, and likewise during the movie Tabitha hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to Clarissa, either.

“Heeeyyy,” Olivia said, clutching at her stomach. “Gawd, I’m starving.”

“She’s ordering already,” Tabitha said with an apologetic wince.

“It’s cool!” Olivia flashed a smile. “I’m totally exaggerating.”

It was hard for Tabitha not to feel relieved—Olivia possessed pretty but unforgiving features, and until the girl actively put on a smile, she looked like an exceptionally pissed off Aubrey Plaza. Without knowing the teen better, her first assumption would have always been that Olivia was upset or angry, and the gap between the impression from her appearance and how nice she actually seemed to be was still something Tabitha struggled with.

By comparison, Clarissa over there waiting behind Elena in line at the counter looked somehow… dull. Not dull as in appearing bored or dull as in less interesting, exactly. Rather, she gave off the impression of someone who had been a sharp, lively and vivacious personality, and in the time since then dulled or blunted herself. It was as if someone had taken Clarissa’s Clarissa dial and then turned it down by twenty or thirty percent.

It’s probably weirder that Elena went through similar circumstances and just immediately hard-pivoted her life in another direction, Tabitha blinked as the girls added presents to the pile. What’s going on with Clarissa seems like a more normal sort of teen struggle. At the very least, I relate to what Clarissa’s going through a lot more. I’ve definitely been there. Not only have I been there—I friggin’ STAYED THERE, for most of a lifetime.

Tabitha didn’t know what to make of Ashlee at all. Ashlee stared out across the roller rink in silence. Probably wondering why she’s here.

Unlike the clean slate Tabitha had enjoyed with her other teen friends, with Ashlee there was a definite chasm between them that needed to be carefully addressed before she could even begin making overtures to bridge a new friendship across. To Ashlee, Tabitha wasn’t simply a stranger or a girl she didn’t know well, Tabitha was a usurper, an imposter, a foreign existence with a personality and appearance that were completely alien to her, implausibly masquerading in the identity of someone she’d known well.

It’s almost funny. Elena just doesn’t believe I’m from the future—Ashlee doesn’t even believe I’m TABITHA MOORE. Again, I don’t know that I can even say that it’s strange she doesn’t believe it. It might be more bizarre that everyone else does.

The Williams arrived with Michael and Bobby, right when two large pizzas were served up at their section of tables. Both pizzas disappeared almost instantly—before the Macarena had even reached its second chorus on the Fundome’s sound system, everyone was staring at empty serving platters in disbelief.

“Well,” Mrs. Macintire cleared her throat in embarrassment. “Okay, I underestimated hungry teenagers? Hannah can barely eat two slices before she’s stuffed!”

“Rookie mistake,” Officer Williams laughed. “Matthew’s not even here yet, and he can just about polish off a large pizza by himself!”

“Sandy—Hannah is seven,” Mrs. Williams shook her head in amusement. “I’ll go put an order in for four more, to get us started.”

“Won’t that be too much?” Mrs. Macintire still managed to look skeptical. “That seems like a lot.”

“Not even close,” Mrs. Williams snorted. “Once everyone’s here, it’ll be five adults, five children, and ten teenagers. Ten teenagers, Sandy. Even if they had a big buffet here, we’d still clean them out!”

“Well,” Mrs. Macintire put her hands on her hips. “Shit.”

“Ma’am—I, for one, greatly appreciate your foresight and generosity,” Bobby put his thumb and forefinger together in the universal ‘okay’ gesture. “Haven’t eaten in like, three days, practically, and—”

“—Bobby you just had a whole thing of popcorn—” Clarissa called him out.

“—thanks to you, now I’ll have the strength to be able to skate—”

“—like, an hour ago!”

“Bobby you’re so full of bullshit—”

“Olivia, you didn’t even eat the crusts from yours!”

“Alright, alright guys—ease up on the swearing. Goes for you too, Sandy.”

“Oh—Michael always eats my pizza crusts.”

“Thank you for the pizza anyways, Mrs. Macintire. Your timing was great!”

“No, you see… popcorn doesn’t count as food, technically.”

“Yeah, we do really appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Thank Mrs. Macintire, you heathens.”

“Thank you Mrs. Macintire!”

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Gross Olivia, don’t share food your mouth has been on.”

“Thank you Missus Macintire!”

“Yeah, I thought you guys weren’t dating anymore? Right?”

“Elena, how do you make such a big deal over basically nothing?!”

“Crusts don’t count as food! It’s like the rind part on a watermelon.”

“Wait, Macintire? I thought she was Tabitha’s mom.”

“I’m with Olivia, crust is just bready carbs. Doesn’t even count. Same as popcorn.”

“Shut up, Bobby, don’t agree with me—now everyone’ll think my argument is dumb!”

“Sshh, don’t be weird, damn. She’s just staying with the Macintires.”

“—What’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know I have great arguments—”

“Shut up, Bobby.”

“—I’m a master debater—”

“Gross. Shut up, Bobby.”

“Alright, alright—clear out, you lot,” Officer Williams shooed them all away from the tables. “Go skate, ya bunch of locusts. We’ll have more pizza out for you in a bit.”

“Sir?” Bobby asked, giving the officer a quick jerk of his head as if to indicate something.

“Yeah, I know—I think we’re probably good right this second. Olivia and her mother’re here. They can uh, watch the tables for us, for now. Go get your skates, that’s all paid for already.”

“Yessir.”

Tabitha found herself to be blushing furiously—being part of a group of friends when everyone was having fun and talking over each other was exhilarating. She’d barely got in a word or two, but at the same time she didn’t feel left out at all. With the exception of Tabitha and Olivia, all of the other teens dispersed, with the teenage girls heading right out to the rink and the two boys walking over to the counter to pick up their rental skates.

“Are you not skating?” Tabitha asked Olivia.

“I can’t, really,” Olivia smirked. “Twisted my one ankle real bad back in eighth grade, now it resprains itself like, every three months. I’ll do a lap or two around the thing with Michael later, just so I can say I did. Besides, you’re the birthday girl, can’t just have everyone run off, right?”

“Oh,” Tabitha said. “Thank you. And, sorry to hear about your ankle.”

“Can you not skate ‘cause of your cast?” Olivia gestured towards Tabitha’s hand. “My ankle’s not even that bad right now, just—you know, don’t wanna tempt fate and be stuck with the dumb brace again for weeks.”

“For me it’s the skull fracture and blood clot in brain thing,” Tabitha gave a small shrug. “From Halloween. Doctor’s orders: no physical activity for six weeks. I’ve got two to go on that, still.”

“No shit?” Olivia’s eyebrows went up. “Like, I was there and saw it, but I thought you just got knocked out cold, and that was it. No one really knew how bad it was, at school it’s all either kept hush hush, or it’s all these wild stories from people who weren’t even there. You know, on top of all the old wild stories ‘bout you.”

“Ahh. Yeah,” Tabitha winced. “All the rumors. Ugh.”

“Does it bother you?” Olivia asked.

“The recovery?” Tabitha let out a wistful sigh. “Or, the rumors?”

“The rumors, I guess,” Olivia said. “I first heard about you like, in the first couple weeks of school. New girl in town; she’s rich. Or poor. She’s a lesbo. She’s secretly dating so-and-so. Interested in so-and-so. She got plastic surgery. Liposuction—”

“I’m actually,” Tabitha had to stop a moment to laugh. “I’m actually not new in town, though? I grew up here. I went to Laurel Middle with Elena!”

“Eh, you know what I mean,” Olivia laughed. “Everyone who didn’t go to Springton Middle might as well be from outer space, and all that. God, that’s all so stupid—all the forced rivalry and shit. That stupid billboard they put up by the one little league field. Springton Bulldogs versus the Laurel Lions! As if podunk town middle school athletics really matters to anyone.”

“I haven’t seen that one,” Tabitha chuckled. “But, I have heard about it? I think they have the high school art club paint that up, and then there’s another wall mural thing they do every year over at one of the elementaries. Alicia, Casey, and Matthew—they’re all in art club together.”

“Right, right,” Olivia nodded. “I’m goin’ for student gov myself, but next year. It’ll be cool. Are you coming back to Springton High?”

“I am!” Tabitha answered. “I really want to, I’m excited to go back and, well. Try again. Since I somehow made such a mess of it the first time.”

“Ho boy,” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Well, it’ll give everyone somethin’ to talk about, that’s for sure.”

“I just never understood it,” Tabitha shook her head. “Why me?”

“Trust me, it’s always someone, and it’s always stupid nonsense,” Olivia said. “Every year it’s like this. Ma said it’s always been like this, like the whole way back to her time. Right, Ma? Ma.”

“Hm?”

Mrs. Moreno had been so quiet this whole time that Tabitha hadn’t even registered her presence—the dark haired woman was sitting alone in one of the booths just outside their Team Tabby area, with a novel. Olivia’s mother looked up at her daughter’s voice and turned towards them, the book in her hands now visible as a steamy romance, complete with a long-haired scoundrel with oiled up muscles clutching a woman in his arms upon the cover.

Hah! Nice. Just readin’ a bodice ripper out in public—I like her already. If I had to guess from her looks, Mrs. Moreno is maybe of Spanish Portuguese or Spanish and Jewish descent? While Olivia’s dad must probably be white.

“Mom, wasn’t the high school rumor mill all crazy back in your days, too?”

“In ‘79?” Mrs. Moreno laughed. “Springton High? It was downright Biblical, always has been. We had a suicide my senior year, and there must have been at least three or four real bad accidents—drunk driving, of course. Girls were getting pregnant, but just swearing up and down they were virgins. History teacher got caught shacking up with a student, he got fired. Amanda Fisher, the student from that? Married him at seventeen, now she teaches history at Springton High. Hah!

“That’s not even the half of it. Bunch of seniors beat the gay kid near to death, with all these parents were swearing up and down the gay kid needs kicked out, he was gonna give everyone AIDS—but, the gay kid’s mom was some well-connected IRS tax lawyer, so surprise! All the local businesses got audited. Total bloodbath. Ask your parents sometime why the Main Street Diner disappeared, they’ll tell you.”

“Springton secrets!” Olivia’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Oh my,” Tabitha was stunned. “I had no idea.”

“Tabitha here got the brunt of it this year,” Olivia explained to her mother. “Showed up shy and pretty and—yeah, I guess that’s all it took?”

“It was mostly some private issues,” Tabitha winced. “Between me and one of the sophomore girls.”

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Moreno shook her head. “No such thing as private issues in a small town like this. Everybody knows everybody, everyone hates each other’s guts, and sometimes? This stuff can go back generations. Grudges over the pettiest, most unbelievable nonsense just sorta sticks around forever. But, heck—I shouldn’t have to tell you that, if you’re seein’ it all first hand.”

“Hah, I um,” Tabitha swallowed. “I kind of just stumbled into it all blind? My parents, they’re local, but… there’s all sorts of issues between them and I as well. Would you happen to recognize the name Shannon Delain?”

“Shannon Delain?” Mrs. Moreno’s mouth fell open and she dropped the book she’d been holding up with a thumb flat on the table. “Jesus Christ. I thought there was something familiar about you—you’re just about the spitting image of her! ‘Tabitha got the brunt of it this year,’ hah, yeah no kidding!”

“Was she that bad?!” Tabitha squeaked out.

“Was who bad?” Mrs. Williams asked as she returned to the tables. “Pizza’s ordered! Ten minutes or so, the guy said. Where’d my husband run off to?”

“This is Shannon Delain’s kid?” Mrs. Moreno turned a curious smile towards Mrs. Williams. “I had no idea!”

“Oh, you stop that,” Mrs. Williams swatted the woman’s shoulder. “All of that was forever ago, and I don’t think a word of it was true. And anyways, Tabitha’s nothing like her mother!”

“Did you—” Tabitha felt floored. “Mrs. Williams, did you go to school with my mother?!”

“Of course not, I grew up in West Point,” Karen Williams shook her head in amusement. “West Point Kentucky, not the big New York West Point. I do hear all the Springton gossip, though—and none of that malarkey about your mother’s fit to be repeated to you. It’s all nonsense, anyways. Your mother was very pretty and popular, lots of girls were jealous of her, and your mother wasn’t shy about burning bridges. End of story!”

“I… yes, I did gather that, somewhat,” Tabitha said. “My mother doesn’t like to talk about any of it, though.”

“Then, let’s just leave it at that,” Mrs. Williams gave Mrs. Moreno a warning glance.

“No, no, I didn’t have any problems with her,” Mrs. Moreno held up her hands. “Shannon’s brother was in my grade, but Shannon herself was two years younger than us. Olivia was just talking about how crazy high school nonsense is these days. I guess nothing much has changed, hah!”

“My mother has a brother?” Tabitha asked, eyes going wide. “I… I had no idea. My whole life that side of my family has just been, well. Absent? I’ve never met or even heard about any of the Delains.”

“Good Lord,” Mrs. Moreno said. “Did—”

“Shh shh shh,” Mrs. Williams cut her off. “None of our business, and some of that’s sensitive! Tabitha, it’s something you can bring up with your parents if you want, when we have dinner with them. Okay hon?”

“Okay, of course,” Tabitha said, exchanging glances with Olivia.

“Right! Staying out of it,” Mrs. Moreno said. “Happy birthday, Tabitha. You do look just like your mother—and I really do mean it when I say your mother, she was absolutely beautiful.”

The two older women then settled in for their own conversation at the more distant table, leaving Tabitha and Olivia to stare at each other in surprise for a moment.

“Wow,” Olivia finally said. “I guess all the bullshit flying around about you makes more sense, now?”

“No,” Tabitha shook her head with a smile. “I doubt it. From what I can tell, none of the people that had beef with my mother even knew she was still in Springton. She’s been… very low profile. Never leaves the house, really.”

“Huh. Well, anyways—back to what we were talking about earlier,” Olivia grinned. “You’re coming back to Springton High, so. What do you think about student government?”

“I can’t,” Tabitha said with a sheepish smile. “I really can’t. My mother wants me in theater, my friends want me in art club. I might do both. I might do both and some literature programs, and, look into track, actually. I want to try so many things.”

“Ugh, art club,” Olivia made a face. “I don’t really picture you as a drama club kid, either, honestly. Literature as in like, poetry? I know there’s a poetry club thing. Did you know Elena’s going for cheerleading?”

“She is?” Tabitha blinked. “Really?”

“Yep,” Olivia nodded. “For the spring tryouts. I think it’s twenty pushups without stopping, and running a ten minute mile, or something like that.”

“I’m just… surprised,” Tabitha admitted. “I thought she was trying to steer clear of all that kind of culture, now.”

“Oh, I think she’s out to prove some kind of point,” Olivia said. “There’s already some fuss about that. One goth cheerleader, in the sea of blonde. Since Springton Cheer is this stupid monolith of sorority solidarity or whatever they think they are. If she makes the team, then… well, that’ll be the new thing that everybody can’t shut up about.”

“Then—” Tabitha paused. “Then, I can drop track and theater and everything but art club, and sign up with her. I can meet whatever physical requirements they have by Spring for sure.”

“Are you into cheerleading at all?”

“Not even a little bit!” Tabitha laughed, looking up Alicia and Elena began to approach. “But. My friends, they’ve done everything for me, and it always feels like I don’t do anything at all for them. I want to. To be there with them, support them however I can.”

“Tabs!” Alicia called out, carefully clomping her way back across the carpet to them from the rink. “You were right, Elena’s dumb. This is an awesome birthday party thing.”

“Did you just call me dumb?!” Elena strode past Alicia with casual confidence. “You, who doesn’t even know you can just walk normally, on the toe stops? Like this.”

“The toe brake things? I…” Alicia trailed off as she carefully maneuvered her weight onto the rubber nubs protruding from the front of her roller skates. “Wow, I am dumb. I halfway thought these were for like, protecting the skates, or making them last longer or something. I tried braking with one, and ‘bout fell on my face.”

“Clarissa fell once already,” Elena turned to report to Tabitha. “Don’t know if you were watching. She’s okay, we got her back up. Ashlee doesn’t skate with us, she just goes around alone.”

“Mrs. Macintire can skate backwards,” Alicia revealed. “And she’s like, fast. Who knew?”

“Where are the chuckleheads?” Olivia asked, peering out across the mass of people out on the rink.

“Bobby’s out there already, Michael’s still messing around with his skates over at the benches, I think,” Elena pointed.

“Probably doing his stupid relacing thing,” Olivia sighed, rising up out of her seat. “I’ll go see.”

“Are you okay here?” Elena asked, taking Olivia’s spot while Alicia staggered around the bench to take the other side. “Tabitha, this is fun, but it’s absolutely not a good birthday thing. Not with everyone out there, and you sitting here.”

“Elena,” Tabitha said in a calm voice, quirking her lip. “Olivia just told me you were signing up for cheerleading?”

“That rotten bitch,” Elena swore.

“What?!” Alicia exclaimed. “Are you going back to blonde?”

“No, and I wish everyone would quit asking that,” Elena huffed. “If I want to do cheerleading, I’ll do cheerleading. The cliques and subcultures have nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t they?” Alicia wondered out loud. “I mean, they kinda do?”

“You don’t have to be cheery to cheer,” Elena sniffed, crossing her arms. “That’s so dumb.”

“I actually thought you did,” Alicia shrugged. “Annnd, I think both the coach and all the girls already in cheer might agree with me?”

“Well,” Tabitha took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Alicia, I’m joining the art club for sure when I come back to Springton High. So—”

“Yessss!”

“—So, Alicia, how do you feel about signing up for varsity cheer with us?”

“Wait, what?” Alicia froze.

“Tabitha… you don’t have to do that,” Elena said slowly. “Neither of you do. I know you’re not really interested in varsity cheer, because I asked you way back when. Remember?”

“I’m not interested in cheerleading,” Tabitha said. “I’m very interested in doing things together with my best friends, no matter what form that takes. For that, I’ll be the one art club chick who can’t draw, or the one misfit cheerleader who sucks at cheerleading. I don’t care. Last lifetime I just didn’t try to do much of anything at all, and I really do regret it.”

“It’s not just drawing,” Alicia put on a mock-affronted look. “You could pose for us and be our model, or you could get a sewing machine in there and do that redesigning dresses-into-blouses fashion stuff you’re into. Duh—fashion is art?”

“She’s… got a really good point,” Elena nodded. “We could do that and do extremely well with it. And also—Tabitha you wouldn’t suck at cheerleading. Carrie’s going to suck at cheerleading, there’s almost no chance she can pass the physical requirements. I can. You can, for sure. Alicia… maybe can.”

“I, uh…” Alicia blanched. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I do not want to be in cheerleading or parade around in front of a big crowd, ever. Sorry, guys. I love you both, buuut…”

“That’s okay, too,” Tabitha reassured her. “I just wanted to ask. If we do pass tryouts and make it, will you come watch us perform?”

“Hell yeah?” Alicia agreed. “I can definitely do that. In fact, once—”

“We’re back!” Olivia announced in a sing-song voice, helping steady Michael as he clomped along beside her in roller skates.

“You know, you can walk normally,” Alicia pointed out with a smug look. “You’re supposed to use the toe brakes, you just use those to walk like you normally would.”

“Toe stops,” Elena corrected, rolling her eyes dramatically at her friend.

“Hah!” Olivia’s face lit up and she tugged at Michael’s arm. “...You know what I think they mean?”

“What?”

“Toe pick!” Olivia taunted, leaning in to give Michael a little kiss on the cheek. “Toe pick! Toe pick!”

“Oh God no don’t start that again,” Michael groaned in horror. “Please. No.”

“Toe pick!”

“Um…?” Tabitha was completely lost.

“From that movie with the figure skater lady teaching the hockey player how to skate,” Alicia smirked. “I guess hockey skates don’t have toe picks?”

“Toe pick!” Olivia said one last time with glee, giving Michael another small peck. “Alright. Go have fun, get out of here. Don’t want Ma to see me kissing you, if you’re not my boyfriend!”

The girls all turned to see Mrs. Moreno give Michael a flirtatious teasing wave with wiggling fingers.

“Guys,” Alicia deadpanned. “I think she knows.”

Cotton-eye Joe and Lump gave way to Insane in the Membrane and then Barbie Girl as her friends eventually returned to the rink.

The DJ here has some pretty err—ECLECTIC?—taste in music?! From Tabitha’s occasional bemused glances in the direction of the audiovisual equipment stand on the opposite side of the skating area, he appeared to be some mid-twenties guy in a polo and enormous sunglasses.

When the sun began to set and the rays were shining nearly horizontal through the glass of the entrance doors, the Fundome’s interior lighting dimmed, and colored spotlights projected bright shapes in pink and blue and green across the floor. A disco ball suspended above the rink lit up, casting hundreds of little lights that lazily spun around the room. The Williams parents wound up retiring to the rear booth where the presents were piled for private conversation, Mrs. Moreno returned to her novel, and Tabitha sat at the booth seat nearest the skate area so that she could watch the revolving mass of people roller skating around.

To her surprise, Tabitha didn’t find herself bored or put out at all, because at regular intervals someone or other she knew would get tired of skating and join her for a bit to chat. Clarissa seemed to attach herself to Alicia and Elena and become a mostly quiet third wheel whenever they stopped by, and Tabitha helped Clarissa wrestle her skates off when the girl needed to use the restroom for a bit—the Fundome wisely prohibited skates in the restrooms. When Tabitha and Olivia decided to wander around exploring the attached arcade area Bobby joined them, towering over the other two girls by an additional inch extra than usual because of the rental skates.

“We can get you a whole bunch of quarters, just say the word,” Bobby offered. “So you’re not bored, or anything. I mean, it’s your birthday.”

“Yeah,” Olivia said. “You wanna play air hockey or anything Tabby—I’m terrible at it, so you’ll have some easy wins there.”

“Maybe a little later, when my little cousins are here,” Tabitha smiled. “I’ll go for a little bit of skee ball with them, make sure they’re having lots of fun.”

Only Mrs. Macintire and Ashlee never took a break back at their booth section or visited—Mrs. Macintire seemed to be having a blast and getting into her groove. The woman was grinning and clearly in her element, crossing one skate behind the other when she made turns in a rather elegant fashion and occasionally doing tight spins or switching to casually reverse so that she could skate backwards while exchanging teasing words with the teens in their group. Ashlee, on the other hand, simply skated alone, not making eye-contact with Tabitha or anyone else as she made wide circles around the rink.

Eventually Tabitha helped Olivia put on rentals and saw her off at the edge of the carpet, handing her over to Michael so that he could lead her around the very outer periphery of the floor where everyone moved more slowly. Tabitha settled back into her seat, nibbled away at a slice of pizza, and listened with a wry smile as MMm-bop transitioned into Love Shack and then Can’t Touch This and, rather absurdly—the Mortal Combat theme.

The past month or so she’d spent in relative isolation compared to the camaraderie and abject chaos of spending time with a peer group of teenagers, and the sudden juxtaposition of these experiences seemed to shed new light on the evolving shape of Tabitha’s goals and ambitions. She would be returning to high school soon enough, and this time she was prepared to be part of everything rather than consigning herself to be the loner outcast. In just a few months her first few uneasy friendships had become deep, meaningful friendships, Tabitha was meeting new people, and her hopes and dreams for what she wanted to accomplish in this life were growing less abstract and more clearly defined.

I… really want to be popular.

It wasn’t an easy thing for her to admit, and even now, large parts of her psyche cringed away from the idea. Wasn’t vying for popularity one of the most shallow and self-aggrandizing pursuits imaginable? Didn’t she, of all people, have the perspective and wisdom to acknowledge how farcical and illusory the teenage ‘in-crowd’ was? Just a scant month or two ago, hadn’t she looked at Springton High’s absurdly convoluted social hierarchy in total face-palming bafflement? Popularity—it was ultimately the pointless indulgence of sheer egotism! Tabitha had always thought that, always known that, but in spite of her own sensibility, she always came back to the hard truth; deep down, she thought all of that, but wanted it anyways.

She wanted to be popular.

It just… well, it is what it is, Tabitha sighed to herself. It’s a shortcoming. It’s embarrassing, and maybe even a little bit awful. But, when I dwell on it, everything that’s happened—or everything that DIDN’T happen, all the things I wanted to happen, that I wished for, that I LONGED FOR? When I really search my soul, I think maybe my honest desire really is just that kind of superficial. I want to be popular. I don’t like it. But. There it is. Deep down, past all the overthinking I do, trying to reason things out and JUSTIFY everything… the crude emotion-driven animal Tabitha at my center just kinda wants to be popular. Always has, I guess.

She wanted to be important, she wanted to be included, loved, accepted, she craved the kind of easy confidence certain social rules seemed to exude. Having shucked off certain misconceptions and learned some hard lessons, Tabitha knew now that it took more than being thin and pretty to magically become popular with people. Some bitter and naive part of her had somehow assumed that once you had the right look, you simply fell into the role of being popular. That people would be drawn to her on the merit of her appearance alone, and that her dream high school experience would then develop naturally from there.

The first friend I made here? It wasn’t my stupid obsessive personal makeover that helped connect me to Alicia. In fact, I think being the pretty girl there actually worked AGAINST me, put her on guard, at first. We became friends because I REACHED OUT and tried to be friends with her. Even though it was super awkward and embarrassing. Maybe especially because of that!. At the time, I told myself it was just because I wanted to take advantage of her skills in the future, to have her artwork complement my GOBLIN PRINCESS trilogy.

Was I just being opportunistic? Sure. That doesn’t invalidate the genuine friendship that came out of that—Elena was likewise just kind of being opportunistic, when she approached me. Now we’ve actually grown close. Of course, that doesn’t mean things will ALWAYS work out so neatly. Elena’s a gem. I’m sure for every Elena I meet, there’ll be a half dozen Carries who would backstab me the moment doing that gave them any sort of advantage.

A skater near Tabitha side of the floor wobbled after a misstep, threw their arms out in an attempt to regain their balance, and then fell, nearly causing a collision with the people who’d been behind him. Alicia happened to be rolling nearby and the girl made eye contact with Tabitha to exaggerate a wincing grimace and then a grin at the shared sight. Then Alicia followed the curve and resumed on past to skate on by.

Isn’t that ironic? I reached out and made a first friend here to satisfy my fixation on GOBLIN PRINCESS. And, why was I always so stuck on GOBLIN PRINCESS? Because accidentally stumbling into writing communities with it brought me to Julie. My story was just this stupid self-therapy attempt at mediating that whole LIFETIME of bitterness and personal issues, but even that was just this pointless hobby thing I did, this HUSK, until Julie started commenting on it like crazy.

Julie actually loved it. She’d FELT it. The struggles and feels and emotions I poured into that fiction connected with her, and that just—well, it shocked me. Someone finally CARED. After I’d already all but given up on that. It really woke me up. Goblin Princess didn’t originally even HAVE a planned ending or anything. It was just supposed to be me finding clever ways to vent out all my grievances. But, once Julie was reading it, suddenly she had to know what happened next—and I think what kept me writing was me wanting to give that to her. The books began as this cry into the dark, and then when they unexpectedly got a response, they became about giving my answer to that response. To her.

What started off as rather basic, plodding webfiction gained momentum from that, and once Tabitha was investing her entire self into it, her writing improved beyond her wildest expectations. Goblin Princess began to gain a following as other people fell in love with it, it achieved minor success in one of the fiction site’s toplists. Tabitha eventually published, collecting the chapters into a volume after she signing with an indie publisher. The project wasn’t perfect, but it was hers, it gave her purpose, and the words poured out of her with succinction and wit she never realized she possessed, and she was almost there to completing Goblin Princess as an entire trilogy!

Then, Tabitha’s most ardent and supportive fan Julia B. Brittlestar took her own life, and all of the words—they stopped.

I’m going to finish this last book, for Julie, Tabitha had always told herself.

Then she would set herself up at her computer, close out any tabs and sign out of her chats so that there were no distractions, she would open up that blank document, and her fingertips would poise over the keyboard.

For hours.

Fingers at ready position, waiting for the words that never come out. Tabitha knew how the story went, Goblin Princess was outlined in her head. Clever phrasings came to mind, the hooks to draw readers in were ready, and the twists and turns along the way were all there. The words just had no reason to type themselves into existence anymore. There was no point.

That wasn’t writer’s BLOCK, that was… that was writer’s STOP, Tabitha hunched her shoulders in at the bitter memories. It was over. Goblin Princess. It wasn’t just a fiction, it was like a conversation, it was me communicating everything I’ve ever felt with someone important to me. When she left, it was—there was—what else was there to say? The person I was saying it to was already gone. The conversation was over.

Tabitha of course didn’t simply stare at a blank document for three months, but the document always wound up returning to its blank state. Words were painfully punched letter by letter into the blank document with heavy keystrokes, and then inevitably Tabitha would stare at the sheer pointless futility of each written section with wet, furious eyes for an hour or two. And then hit backspace and hold it down until every last bit deleted itself again.

Because what was the fucking point? What was she supposed to do, finish the stupid last book and feel happy about it? Accomplished? Tabitha had fallen in love with writing because of Julia, but maybe if she’d spent a little more time checking in on her friend instead of ignorantly plowing on ahead with her stupid wordcount, Julia would still be alive. Maybe not. Perhaps Tabitha simply wanted to believe that—because while Julie was Tabitha’s only real friend, Julie herself had friends everywhere and drama in spades. Friends, enemies, boyfriends, girlfriends, she’d been cheated on and she’d cheated, Julia was an intensely damaged person who carelessly threw herself into everything, determined to try out every painful mistake life had to offer, and then die.

Those were Julie’s own words, and Tabitha had always admired the dark humor sort of bravado they contained. Right up until Julie actually just went through with that for real—words can’t express how much that INFURIATED Tabitha now, VOLUMES of words would be unable to convey the cataclysmic vehemence she felt even remembering that stupid fucking joke.

That’s when I lost the narrative, last time through, Tabitha blew out a slow breath of frustration, trying to put herself back in the moment of a birthday night at a roller rink and failing.

I got within a horizon of my own core story that defines me, but was just content to hunker down out there in the periphery, and not get further entangled too much in it all. I’d just live my writer hermit quiet life having a fan who meant the world to me, and that would be fine. Wouldn’t need family. Didn’t need lovers, or intimacy. Had no use for self improvement, or self worth. I took the little bits that meant something to me, and kind of just idly put them out there, and when someone validated me, and that was enough.

Then Julie was just suddenly GONE, and that made me realize how little the scraps of feeling I’d been writing about even meant in the big greater scheme of things. The story of everything I ever gave a damn about was just abruptly over. And, the worst part about that? I never really grasped much of it, let alone committed much to it. Was just content way out there at that safe distance from everyone, not getting too involved.

Her bittersweet musings were mercifully interrupted by a procession of familiar faces walking towards her from the entrance area between the fitting area with its cubbyholes for shoes and the rental counter—the arrival of the second half of their group. Matthew and Casey were on either side of Hannah, holding the little girl’s hands, and just behind them grandma Laurie and Tabitha’s four cousins followed. It was exactly the interrupting intervention she needed right now to bring her mind back to the moment, and Tabitha gave her friends and family a big wave as her eyes went moist.

“Tabitha! Tabitha!” Hannah broke free of her chaperones and raced forward to climb directly into Tabitha’s lap. “Tabitha. Where does an eight-hundred pound gorilla sit?”

“Oof,” Tabitha groaned, taking the seven year old by the sides and better situating her on one knee. “Wherever she wants, it looks like?”

“It—no, not me!” Hannah giggled. “An eight-hundred pound gorilla sits wherever it feels like.”

“Yeah I can tell, she sure does,” Tabitha teased. “That’s what I said!”

“Tabitha!” Hannah was exasperated at the delivery of her joke being ruined. “You just don’t get it. You went and saw the boring movie.”

“Hmm,” Tabitha bounced Hannah on her knee. “So, Mighty Joe Young was pretty good?”

“Yeah, it was good,” Hannah nodded. “The gorilla Joe, he was really big.”

“Hi, Casey. Matthew. Boys,” Tabitha gave them all a smile and another little wave as they crowded in around the Team Tabby booths. “Hi grandma. Restrooms are just past the arcade, we can get some pizza ordered for the boys while they try on skates.”

“Hi Tabby.”

“Hey!”

“Happy birthday!”

“Yesss, pizza!”

“Did you like your movie?” Casey asked, sliding into the booth seat across from Tabitha and Hannah. “The Pleasantville one?”

“I did!” Tabitha beamed. “I think we all really enjoyed it.”

“Eeghhh,” Casey made a noise. “All that old timey stuff just really isn’t for me. My mom’s this real big fan of I Love Lucy, and just—bleggh. Not a fan.”

“Me either,” Hannah agreed. “Black and white stuff is all boring.”

“Mighty Joe Young was pretty good, though,” Matthew said, grabbing the edge of the table and swiveling into a partial crouch so that he could use his hip to push Casey further into the booth and have room to sit.

“‘Ey! ’Ey!” Casey protested with a laugh, trying to force him back out for a moment before relenting and letting her boyfriend occupy the outside of the bench. “Woooow.”

“Whoever all did the effects, they did really good,” Matthew continued. “Was just as good as the T-rex parts in Jurassic Park. Maybe even better.”

“Yeah, he looked really real,” Hannah agreed with a smug look. “Your cousins thought Joe was real. But he’s not really, he was just special effects.”

“Well, that’s movie magic for you,” Tabitha said. “Are you guys renting skates?”

“Nope! We brought our own, and we have Hannah’s, too,” Casey revealed. “Uhhh, we’ll grab ‘em change into ‘em after we eat though—I’m starvin.’”

“Yeah, same here,” Matthew said. “Hannah, are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” Hannah remembered. “I could eat a whole entire pizza. Where’s my Mom?”

“She’s over there skating,” Tabitha said. “I’ve been watching, she’s really good!”

“I know,” Hannah said. “We’ve roller skated before, she’s even better than dad. Do your cousins know how to roller skate?”

“Hannah,” Tabitha enveloped the competitive little girl in a hug. “I don’t even know how to skate.”

“Really?” Hannah lit up. “C’mon, I can teach you. It’s easy. I’ll show you how.”

“I can’t!” Tabitha shook her head. “Doctor said two more weeks.”

“Yeah,” Hannah frowned, visibly parsing that remembered restriction and then just as quickly discarding it. “But—it’s your birthday. So, you can skate some.”

“I can’t this time,” Tabitha shook her head again. “I’m sorry, Hannah. If I fell and hurt my head, it would be very, very bad.”

“Like back to the hospital bad?” Hannah asked.

“Back to the hospital bad,” Tabitha confirmed. “Or worse.”

“Okay,” Hannah pouted. “We don’t have to skate anyways. There’s an arcade?”

“I want you to skate and have fun,” Tabitha said. “I’m having lots of fun just having everyone here. You can teach my cousins how to skate, if they don’t know how.”

“Tabitha,” Hannah paused, as if unsure if she really had to spell out the obvious. “They’re boys.”

“They are,” Tabitha said. “But, they’re my boys. I used to go and look after them a little every now and then, and then when I got hurt, they looked after me a little.”

“Okay,” Hannah stared in the direction of the cousins. “Then, that’s different. They are still boys, though.”

“I held hands with a boy during the movie we went to see!” Tabitha said. “A cute boy.”

“Really? Who?” Hannah blinked. “Did you kiss?”

“No I didn’t kiss! Just held hands. Did those two kiss?” Tabitha nodded in the direction of Matthew and Casey.

“Yeah,” Hannah said. “But, only after the movie, when we all came out. ‘Cause I sat in the middle for the movie. They still bought me Skittles though.”

“Wait, cute boy—what cute boy?” Casey grinned. “Who’d you hold hands with? Michael?”

“Bobby.”

“Bobby’s not cute, he’s Bobby,” Casey groaned. “You held hands with Bobby?!”

“She’s exaggerating—all of us were holdin’ hands during the movie, it wasn’t romantic or anything,” Olivia chimed in, crossing back into the area to sit with them. “I grabbed Elena’s hand, Alicia grabbed Tabitha’s hand, Clarissa and Bobby were holding hands. It was all of us.”

“So, these other girls were all holding Michael’s hand?” Casey arched an eyebrow at Olivia.

“No, he was on the far side of us, so he could sadly only hold my hand,” Olivia smirked.

“Yeah, sadly.”

“Tragically.”

“Who’s Michael?” Hannah asked.

“He’s my friend,” Olivia answered. “We’re just friends. We held hands, but just like with Tabitha and them it was just this group thing. We definitely didn’t kiss.”

“Hmhbbullshit,” Mrs. Moreno coughed loudly into her fist, not even looking up from her novel.

“Gesundheit!”

“Oh, thank you hon. My, excuse me.”

“They wouldn’t stop kissing, it was disgusting,” Elena arrived just in time to sneer at Olivia. “They were mashing their faces together and tongue wrestling like, the whole damn movie, I was stuck next to them.”

“Oh my God ewww—Olivia, what the hell?!” Casey burst into laughter. “Did you really?”

“It was not the whole movie, it was only whenever there was color on screen!” Olivia blushed. “Pleasantville was mostly all in black and white!”

With some difficulty all of the skaters in their group were recalled back to the Team Tabby booths, where a birthday cake was revealed and a third set of pizzas due to arrive. Gathering a group this sizeable back up again would be difficult, so a rousing—if cringe-inducing—round of Happy Birthday was sung while Tabitha tried to hide a wince by plastering a rigid smile overtop of it, and then Mrs. Williams insisted Tabitha begin opening presents.

“Open mine first,” Elena insisted. “Then you can do Alicia’s, and go through everyone else’s.”

“Save mine for last, actually,” Alicia grinned. “Mine’s—leave mine for like, the finale. I actually don’t even know if you’ll love it or hate it.”

The gift from Elena appeared to be stored in a shoebox, and as Tabitha tore the wrapping paper and then opened the box—she realized that it wasn’t something else simply stored in a shoebox that happened to be handy. This was really a shoebox. A snazzy brand new pair of women’s Nike Air Maxes were nestled inside. They were blue with wavy white lines somewhat reminiscent of stylized water ripples, radiating back from the toe of the shoe up its sides. Tabitha loved them immediately! She would be running soon again, and her old sneakers were falling apart despite her re-gluing the tread on them and careful attempts to clean them.

“They’re beautiful!” Tabitha beamed, pulling one out of the stuffing paper to examine it in her hands.

“Oh, wow!” Mrs. Williams gushed. “Those look so nice!”

“Nice! Nikes,” Alicia approved, turning to explain for the benefit of the rest of the crowd. “Tabitha’s a runner, she used to run like, all the time.”

“Really? Sweet,” Casey exclaimed. “You ever wanna go running some morning, I’m your gal. Those are super nice, too. Wow.”

The athletic shoe was still a bit stiff, but it was pristine and even had that new shoe smell. Tabitha had of course owned running shoes late in life, but those weren’t the same at all, and they certainly hadn’t been cute high-end ones from a name brand, either.

“I love them,” Tabitha turned to Elena. “Thank you! I love them. I promise I’ll use them just for running, and wear my old gross shoes for on the playground.”

“Use them wherever you like,” Elena said. “I’m glad you like them. Whenever you’re cleared for physical activity again, I want to run with you too, if that’s okay. It can be you, me, and Casey?”

“Hell yeah!” Casey leaned past Matthew to give Elena a high five. “Damn, awesome.”

“Alright—mine next, c’mon,” Bobby insisted, passing Tabitha a small oblong box wrapped in newspaper.

“Okay,” Tabitha flashed him a smile. “And, thank you. You really didn’t have to get me anything!”

“Might not be the biggest or most expensive or anything, but it’s definitely the coolest present,” Bobby said with confidence.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Alicia challenged. “We’ll see about that.”

The video tape wasn’t well-wrapped, so rather than tear it open Tabitha simply slipped a finger beneath a piece of tape and unfolded it out to reveal a VHS copy of Willow, a sword and sorcery movie from the eighties she vaguely remembered seeing bits of on TV once. The box art was in tasteful white and red, with the painted renditions of the main cast featured on the front, and to Tabitha’s surprise—the tape was still sealed in plastic, apparently in mint condition.

“It’s Willow—like, one of my favorite movies of all time,” Bobby explained at seeing her curious look. “Has Madmartigan, has Sorsha, this super badass redhead chick who—

“Ahem, I think you mean ‘kick-butt’ redhead chick,” Mrs. Williams corrected his swear with a wry glance at all the children present.

“He said a bad word,” Hannah observed, shaking her little head in dismay at the apparent lack of decorum teenagers possessed these days.

“Uhhh yeah right, this kick-butt redhead chick, and—yeah, I really hope you like it,” Bobby nodded. “My brother and I have the VHS copy we grew up with, I had to buy this one when I found it. S’been perched on top of the TV in my room since then, just kinda on display. But, you’re a uh, kick-butt redhead, so. Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Tabitha flipped it over in her hands again. “We’ll… have to watch it together sometime.”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Olivia jeered.

“Nice,” Casey offered a high five.

“You guys’ll all love it too, trust me,” Bobby addressed Tabitha’s cousins. “We seriously should all watch it sometime. It’s one of the best movies ever.”

“That sounds good,” Tabitha said, setting the video down on the table so she could return Casey’s high five with her good hand. “We’ll have to make a date sometime.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh!!” This time Alicia, Michael, and two of the cousins all joined in on Olivia’s heckling.

“Very funny, guys,” Tabitha blushed. “Thank you, Bobby.”

“Who’s next?” Mrs. Macintire asked.

“Me me me!” Olivia jumped in with a larger flat box. “This is from Michael and I. So. I want to say—first of all, thank you for inviting us. I know we don’t know you super well, yet, but we’d like to, you seem super cool. Ever since that night at the Halloween party, we talk about you all the time, annnd, yeah. I want to count you among my friends. Thank you.”

“Ey ey ey, no speeches!” Alicia griped. “Now the rest of us’ll have to figure out stuff to say!”

“No, thank you for coming, Olivia! Michael,” Tabitha gratefully accepted the box. “Both of you. And, thank you so much for saving me.”

“Should’ve jumped up sooner,” Michael winced. “It just—it all happened so fast…”

“No—thank you,” Tabitha shook her head. “You probably saved my life.”

“Open it up, Tabby!” Hannah was exasperated with all of their pontificating at each other.

“It’s—” Tabitha began to tear the wrapping. “A lotion set? Oh, Burt’s Bees—thank you!”

“I should have guessed,” Elena shot Olivia an accusing look.

“Yeah, it’s just. I fell in love with their lotion, skin gets dry in December, and… yeah. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!”

“Clarissa?” Olivia prompted.

“Uh, yeah,” Clarissa put forward a wrapped disk case. “Happy birthday, Tabitha.”

“Thank you,” Tabitha leaned over the table to accept it.

Unlike the others thus far, this CD case was wrapped extremely securely, with every remaining edge of wrapping paper taped down. After an embarrassing moment trying to find enough purchase to create slack in the paper to tear, Tabitha sheepishly gave up and allowed Hannah to come forward to assist her in opening it. She was getting better and better at using the slightly exposed digits of her cast hand over the months, but some things were still too difficult to manage for her.

“Jesus, Clarissa,” Alicia pursed her lips.

“Sorry, sorry—if you want, I can get it,” Clarissa apologized. “I’m always afraid it’ll come open accidentally and I uh, I used too much tape. Sorry.”

“We did the same thing for Matthew’s Christmas presents last year,” Officer Williams chimed in. “Went nuts on the one with duct tape, just so he’d have a time gettin’ it open.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Matthew rolled his eyes. “Just you wait ‘til Christmas this year.”

“I got it!” Hannah announced, quickly ripping the paper away and passing the gift back to Tabitha.

“Oh, thank you Hannah Banana!” Tabitha praised, taking a look at the CD case.

“What is it?” Alicia prodded.

“Oh, wow,” Tabitha’s eyebrows went up and she flashed a smile. “This is… Britney Spears?”

“She’s really popular,” Clarissa hurried to explain. “She’s already on the radio a lot. I really like her, and uh, and I thought—”

“I’ve never heard of her,” Alicia remarked.

“What does she sing?” Olivia asked.

“Well, okay she’s not that popular yet, but she’s going to be,” Clarissa conceded. “The one she sings is, is um—”

“Britney Spears?” Bobby repeated.

“I’ve heard of her, yeah,” Elena said.

“Thank you, Clarissa,” Tabitha reassured the girl. “I’m surprised! I just didn’t recognize her from this picture at first, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her with bangs. And, I thought her album wasn’t out until sometime next year!”

“You know Britney Spears?!” Clarissa sagged with relief. “Cool! Awesome. And uh, yeah, you’re right, sorry. Her actual album isn’t out until January, this is just her first single. It’s got an extra song on it though, if you um, if you flip the CD over, there’s a B side. I thought that was cool.”

“What does she sing?” Olivia asked again. “She’s on the radio?”

“Baby One More Time is on this one,” Tabitha tapped the CD case. “That’s her real big hit, right now. But, Britney’s great—she also sings Toxic, and Oops I did it again. She sings Lucky,—that one’s my favorite—she sings You Drive Me Crazy. She’s the princess of pop music; Britney Spears.”

“Uh, wow,” Clarissa froze, her brows furrowing for a second at unfamiliar song titles. “Had no idea you were already a big fan! Do you have this single already?”

“Okay, she does that hit me baby one more time one,” Bobby nodded. “Yeah, that does play all the time, now.”

“Right, okay,” Olivia nodded in understanding. “Everyone’s heard that one. Britney Spears, I knew that.”

“I don’t already have it!” Tabitha answered Clarissa. “I, uh, I actually don’t even have a CD player just yet—”

“Aha!” Mrs. Macintire interrupted with a triumphant fist-pump. “I knew it, perfect timing! Hannah Manana, if you would do the honors?”

“This one, this one!” Hannah exclaimed, foisting a much larger present as well as another CD-shaped gift towards Tabitha. “This one and this one, these two are from mom and me!”

“Aw, thank you both,” Tabitha said. “Let’s see—oh, this one opened much easier.”

“Sorry,” Clarissa winced.

“I’ve got… Classic Disney Volume Five!” Tabitha chuckled.

“Yeah—sorry,” Mrs. Macintire winced too.

“It’s got the Mulan songs on it,” Hannah jumped up and down. “And, a buncha other good ones too, though. We went through the list and checked. They’re all really good.”

“Thank you, Hannah,” Tabitha set it aside so that she could open up her arms for a hug. “Hug, hug.”

“Happy birthday!” Hannah cried out, lunging in for a hug that was more of a tackle. “Happy birthday.”

“We’ll listen to it together as soon as I can find a CD player,” Tabitha promised with a knowing smile.

“Really?” Hannah lit up, dropping back out of the hug and grabbing up the larger gift again and pushing it into Tabitha’s lap. “This one next, this one next!”

“Hmm, I wonder what this could be?” Tabitha pondered out loud, cradling the box on her knees so that she could tear the gift wrapping open along one side. “It’s! A Sony Discman personal CD player with mega bass!”

“And, it comes with headphones!” Hannah reported, helping peel back the paper to point at the image on the box. “So, you can listen to it even when you’re out somewhere. Anywhere!”

“Thank you so much, Hannah,” Tabitha struggled to give the girl another hug over the box situated in her lap. “Thank you, Mrs. Macintire. Was it… expensive?”

“Not at all!” Sandra answered with a smirk. “Cheaper than me gettin’ a new husband.”

“Hah!” Officer Williams barked out, actually slapping his thigh at hearing that.

“Oh, stop,” Mrs. Williams scolded him, then turning to purse her lips at the other mother. “Sandy, that’s not even funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Hannah raised a shrug.

“It is not!”

“I thought it was funny,” Matthew said.

“You’re all just awful,” Mrs. Williams smiled and shook her head in dismay. “Tabitha honey, here—this one’s from me.”

“Ahem ahem,” Officer Williams fake-coughed.

“This one’s from me ‘and my husband,’” Mrs. Williams corrected herself with a roll of her eyes and air quotation marks with her fingers.

“Right—it’s from both of us,” Officer Williams laughed. “Happy birthday.”

Tabitha unwrapped this one to discover it was a book; Message in a Bottle, by Nicholas Sparks. Though she recognized the author as the one who’d written The Notebook, Tabitha had somehow never even heard of this one, and her interest was piqued.

“I just finished my copy myself, I hope you like it, dear,” Mrs. Williams said. “I picked it out, my awful husband just paid for it—as if that deserves any credit.”

“Yes, good book, good book,” Officer Williams nodded to himself in a self-satisfied way. “Great book, even. Loved it. Couldn’t put it down.”

“Oh, stop,” M