Ex-Mas Page 2

  "Everyone knows what Santa looks like, Lila," Cooper said matter-of-factly, like he couldn't believe Lila had said something so moronic. "He's more famous than the president!"

  "You know this is Cooper's favorite time of year, Lila," her mother called from the other room. "You don't have to let him help you with your Christmas card, but maybe while we're away you can help him build one of those gingerbread houses he likes, or bake some Christmas cookies."

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  Cooper wriggled around in joy, a mess of freckles and suspiciously stained green sweatshirt and boy on the carpet in front of her. Now that the idea of gingerbread houses and cookies was implanted in his little brain, there would be no escaping it.

  "But let's make sure Cooper doesn't eat too many cookies, or too much candy," Mrs. Beckwith continued from the adjacent kitchen. "We have to watch his carbohydrate count. Too many carbs can cause digestion problems."

  "Don't worry, Mom." Lila tapped her fingertips on the sleek white top of her iBook. She made a mental note to give herself a manicure before people started showing up tonight. "I'll eat all the leftover carbs."

  "As long as Cooper doesn't!" her mother singsonged. Lila's digestive system, presumably, could sort itself out.

  Lila stared down at her ragged fingernails. Her parents' attitude certainly wasn't doing Cooper any favors. Lila knew, because she'd been almost as clueless about life at Cooper's age, and look what it had gotten her--years spent closely investigating extreme loserdom from the inside. She'd wandered through middle school with a selection of fuzzy ponytails on top of her head, Ugly Betty's fashion sense, and no idea how to make the right friends. She and Beau had been best friends growing up and had slid into boyfriend-girlfriend territory in the seventh grade, existing in a little cocoon of first kisses and music. Lila had had some Beau Hodges-induced fantasy about wanting

  17

  to be a professional singer someday--the kind of professional singer, apparently, who didn't care about her appearance, content to look like a frizzy-haired Labradoodle.

  It wasn't until high school that Lila woke up and smelled the Frederic Fekkai smoothing cream. She'd had the extraordinarily good fortune of being falsely accused of cheating on a test in a freshman history class. The other suspected culprit? Carly Hollander. Since nothing could be proven and both girls denied it, they'd escaped the school's harsher disciplinary measures, but had been forced to serve two weeks of detention together.

  Those had been the most educational two weeks of Lila's life. She had come out of those detentions with a coveted invitation to Carly's birthday party and a bone-deep determination to completely change her look and her life. Enough with Lila Beckwith, the starry-eyed loser who drifted around the fringes at North Valley High. It was time to grow up and stop hiding.

  Lila had invited Beau to the party. But he'd acted like she was personally betraying him by wanting to hang out with "the zombies," as he called the popular kids--Carly Hollander being the Queen Zombie of their class. Their blowup had ended with Lila going to the party newly single--and leaving the party with Erik as her new boyfriend. Just like that, she'd grown up.

  Something Cooper needed to do, stat.

  "I really want cookies and a gingerbread house," the little monster was saying now, digging his Heely sneaker into the

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  thick beige carpet. "Don't do that thing you do where you promise stuff because Mom's here and then don't do it. I hate that."

  Lila braced herself, expecting her mother to come charging in from the kitchen in a righteous fury, outraged that precious Cooper might suffer so much as one second of disappointment at Lila's hands.

  But somehow, it didn't happen. A Christmas miracle.

  "She went to the laundry room," Cooper explained. "But me and Tyler found this cool website that shows you how you can make any gingerbread house you want if you upload a picture, so we can take one of our house and make--"

  "Cooper, you need to shut up for five seconds," Lila snapped. Like she wanted to hear anything about Cooper and his dorky BFF, Tyler, who happened to be Beau's little brother. Cooper and Tyler had gone to preschool together--the same preschool Beau and Lila had attended, way back when. Back when she was too young to really know how to make friends.

  "But we could make it as a surprise for Mom and Dad--"

  "God!" Lila groaned, cutting him off again. "We'll bake cookies or something, but not if you're going to be this annoying, okay? It's my vacation, too. Go away."

  Cooper just stood there and stared at her, looking like he'd been kicked. With a steel-toed boot. Finally, he scampered off, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

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  Lila heaved a sigh. She didn't have time to worry about his little eight-year-old feelings--she had a party to plan. Her delivery of booze was supposed to come in an hour. She checked the delicate gold watch Erik had given her when he left for college. So you'll always know how long until we see each other again, he'd said. She felt herself calm down at the thought of his broad, confident smile.

  Twelve thirty-two.

  T-minus twenty-eight minutes to her parents' departure time.

  And then the games would begin. Finally.

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  Chapter 3

  *** BECKWITH HOUSE

  LOS ANGELES

  DECEMBER 22

  1:05 P.M.

  ****

  "And Cooper is not to bike over to Tyler's house alone. I'm leaving my car, and you'll give him rides if he wants to go over there. Is that clear?" Mrs. Beckwith paused in the act of wrapping a gray scarf around her neck to frown directly at Lila, as if the point needed extra emphasis. Lila shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, flexing her arches against the glossy hardwood floor of the front hall.

  "It's clear, Mom," Lila said, her eyes actually hurting from the effort of not rolling them to the back of her head. "I'll give Cooper rides." She was actually more than happy to give Cooper a ride to Tyler's--at least tonight, to get him out of the house. Sleepover for him, party for her.

  Her cell phone was vibrating like crazy in her pocket, with everyone no doubt wanting to confirm plans. Yet, her parents

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  were hanging around like they didn't have somewhere else to be. Come on, come on, come on, she chanted silently, urging them out the door.

  "That goes for you too, Lila," her father chimed in, frowning as he adjusted his Detroit Tigers baseball cap on his balding head. He'd grown up in the Midwest and still proudly supported his hometown sports teams. "Don't think this means you can have Erik up to your room. You know the rules."

  Her parents actually loved Erik, despite all the rules. They'd treated Beau like a ticking teenage time bomb. If they were still together, her room would probably be equipped with a nanny cam.

  "Erik isn't home from college yet," Lila assured her father, trying to sound trustworthy. She focused on the T-shirt he wore beneath his button-down, featuring a giant pi sign. God, her father was a dork. "So no need to worry about any of that."

  "Don't let Cooper stay up all night or gorge himself," Mrs. Beckwith continued. "You can have pizza or sugared cereal tomorrow, but not both. And do not let him watch scary movies! He'll have nightmares for weeks."

  "You guys, I live here," Lila pointed out. Her stomach tightened at the identical frozen glare her parents both aimed at her. She shrugged. "I mean, I know how to take care of Cooper. I'm going to be eighteen in, like, five minutes."

  "You are not eighteen yet," her father said. A smile played at

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  the corners of his mouth, like he found her funny. "Adulthood doesn't just happen because you want it to. And I'd mind your attitude if you ever want to see that car."

  Lila wanted that car. She could taste that car. She didn't care what it looked like or what kind it was--she only cared that it had four wheels, an engine, and locks to keep the rest of them out.

  And, okay, if it happened to be a shiny, black, convertible VW Beetle, that wo
uldn't suck, either.

  So, just like every other time they'd dangled this particular carrot in front of her, she pictured her pretty little dream car, and she caved.

  "Sorry," Lila said carefully, swallowing her seething resentment. "I just--he's going to be fine. We're going to be safe. Everything's under control. Okay?"

  Her parents exchanged a look, and Lila worried she'd blown it. But then her mother's face softened and she leaned over to kiss Lila's cheek, her floral perfume wafting through the air.

  "We'll check in from the road," she said.

  And then--miraculously!--her parents turned toward the door. Lila could actually see her perfect party materialize before her, like a montage scene in a movie. Carly would sweep inside the arched entryway with her favorite cupcakes from Sprinkles in Beverly Hills because, as she always said, nothing cried party more than a perfect cupcake. Yoon and

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  Rebecca would come next, arm in arm and giggling, determined to flirt outrageously with as many cute boys as possible in their ongoing battle for boy-domination. Jeannine would park herself near the door and offer a running commentary on everyone who entered, like North Valley High's very own Joan Rivers (minus the old age and multiple plastic surgeries). It was happening at last!

  And then Cooper ran into the front hall, heading straight to their mom. Lila thought he was going for an extra hug or a last whine. But instead of wrapping himself around their mother's waist like a barnacle, Cooper stretched up on his tiptoes and whispered into her ear.

  Lila felt a sinking sensation in her belly as her mother's face paled, and her cold blue eyes shot accusingly to Lila's.

  "A party?" she demanded, horrified. "In this house? Lila, tell me this isn't true!"

  Lila's heart plummeted through her body and slammed into her feet with a sickening thud. All feeling deserted her fingers and toes as her pulse pounded out her horror. The last time she'd felt this nauseated was in the seventh grade, when Beau had goaded her into riding that horrible Riddler coaster at Six Flags Magic Mountain.

  "What?" Lila asked weakly, but she'd never been much of a spontaneous liar. Give her some time and a good story and she could work an angle. But right now she was like Bambi, eye

  24

  to eye with a speeding Hummer. "I don't know what Cooper's talking about," she managed to say. Lame.

  "She was IMing her friends," Cooper piped up, his little voice sounding angelic. He even looked like a cherub, his cheeks rosy and his dark eyes sparkling. Lila wanted to murder him. Could angels be killed? "She said you were leaving and she wanted the party to start as soon as possible."

  Lila felt her mouth drop open, but no sound came out. Her mother's lips were pursed. Her father's face turned purplish-red with fury. Their tempers had officially entered the red zone.

  "Lila!" Mr. Beckwith boomed. He jabbed a finger at his daughter. "You can forget about that car! You'll be lucky if I give you a ride in my car!"

  "How could you think you could get away with this?" her mother cried, also at top volume. She threw her hands in the air. "How will we ever trust you again?"

  "I was just IMing Carly," Lila protested, thinking quickly. "We were talking about maybe watching a movie together, that's all. Not a real party!"

  But the word party was a bomb, dropped into the middle of her life. The damage was already done.

  "How can we go to Phoenix now?" Mr. Beckwith said. "We expect more from you than this, Lila."

  Well, that part was true. They expected her to be absolutely

  25

  100 percent perfect at all times, at school and at home and everywhere else. They expected her never to ask for help or make a mistake or even act like she might need a hug. She could write a whole book on their expectations.

  "Aunt Lucy is expecting us," Mrs. Beckwith replied, angrily. "She's had her thirtieth anniversary party planned for a year." She slashed a hand through the air as if she couldn't hold her temper inside. "This is outrageous, Lila! We trusted you!"

  Cooper just stood there with that smirk on his supposedly so innocent little face, without a care in the world, reveling in the scene unfolding in front of him. Lila wanted to smack that smirk into next week, sending Cooper right along with it

  "So, Cooper is obviously perfect and completely trustworthy no matter what, and no one trusts me at all. He could say I was a serial killer and you'd believe him." Lila sniffed, trying to cover her panic with bluster. "Good to know."

  "Don't you dare blame your brother!" Lila's mother cried. "If I hear of any retaliation, Lila, you will find yourself grounded for the rest of your senior year. I mean it. Behave perfectly for the rest of this weekend and I'll consider un-grounding you before spring break."

  That took a moment to sink in, and Lila crossed her arms over her chest to keep from hitting something. Or someone. Someone significantly shorter than her.

  "Meaning I'm already grounded," she translated, her voice

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  tight and strangled. "Because Cooper invaded my privacy and misinterpreted something he wasn't even supposed to read."

  "We will be calling," Mrs. Beckwith said, overenunciating each word. She gave Lila the steely stare she'd perfected at her law office, where her underlings raced to do her bidding. "I expect you to pick up when we do. That cell phone had better not be turned off. Are we clear?"

  Yes, they were clear. Clearly overreacting. You'd think she'd tried to drown Cooper in the La Brea Tar Pits.

  But Lila knew she couldn't say any of that. She'd lost, and it was time to suck it up.

  "You are clear," she replied, uncrossing her arms. "I didn't do anything, so please, call all you want."

  Cooper received hugs and kisses, Lila received glares and threats, and then the door thudded shut behind them. Finally, they were gone. But the party was dead.

  And so was Lila's social life.

  She turned very slowly and let her gaze fall on her little brother.

  "You can't take it out on me!" Cooper cried immediately, his brown eyes wide. "Mom said!"

  "What's the matter with you?" she asked him, her voice practically a whisper. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

  "I'll tell if you do anything to me!" he yelled. "And then you know they'll never give you a car!"

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  Lila's anger was like a burning flame in her gut. She could feel it searing through her, eating her alive. She didn't care that her brother had once been a preemie, or that their parents thought he needed special treatment for the rest of his life to make up for it. She wanted, needed, to retaliate. But she knew he was right--do anything to their beloved Cooper, and she'd be taking the bus to Stanford in the fall.

  But suddenly, she had an idea.

  Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked through the house. The light slap of bare feet on the blond wood floor told her Cooper was following.

  "What are you doing?" he asked nervously. Good. He should be nervous. Other older siblings, those not under direct threat from their parents, would be kicking his puny little ass right about now.

  Lila rooted around in her school bag and pulled out her earth science homework. Thank you, Mr. Geary, for this boring article. She glanced over the text, confirming that it said exactly what she thought it did: The North Pole was melting thanks to global warming. It even had a satisfyingly dramatic title, perfect for her current purposes: Who Will Save Santa?

  She reached over and dropped the article in front of Cooper on the coffee table. It landed soundlessly on the glass. She couldn't even be accused of handing the article to him. She had simply been doing her homework, she would say, and

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  how could she possibly control Cooper from reading things he shouldn't?

  Cooper's eyes fell to the article on the table in front of him. He looked at Lila warily.

  She folded her arms, silently daring him.

  Cooper snatched up the article, and started to read. Seconds later, his cherubic face fell, and
a look of horror settled over his features.

  True horror.

  Good. Lila felt triumph soar through her.

  Merry Christmas, you little brat, she thought smugly, and stormed out of the room.

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  Chapter 4

  *** BECKWITH HOUSE

  LOS ANGELES

  DECEMBER 22

  3:23 P.M.

  ***

  Damage control consisted of a few e-mails and a whole lot of unpleasant conversations as Lila called her party off--none more unpleasant than her parents' multiple check-in calls. At least she had some privacy for a change. Cooper had asked to go over to Tyler's house after the global-warming bomb she'd dropped on him. She hadn't even minded driving him over there in her mother's car--at this rate, Lila would be geriatric before she had a car of her own--because he'd looked so obviously dejected. It was exactly what he deserved for being a tattling little brat.

  "It sucks," Lila said into the phone now. She was sprawled across the daybed at the top of the stairs, peering out the window. Below, the grassy lawn stretched from the bright purple bougainvillea vines that crawled along the side of the house to

  30

  the street shaded with big oak trees out front. It was her favorite spot in the house.

  "This is just so lame," Yoon moaned. Again. "Why are your parents so freaking uptight?"

  "I wish I knew," Lila said sourly, though she wasn't 100 percent sure she liked Yoon criticizing her family. It was one thing when Carly did it--she and Lila were practically family themselves. But Yoon didn't get a free pass just because they were in the same clique.

  On the other hand, Lila couldn't deny the fact that her parents were pretty freaking uptight.

  She tilted her head back and scowled at the popcorn ceiling, switching the bulky white house phone from one shoulder to the other. Her cell phone got zero reception in this part of the house, and she'd decided she deserved some comfort while mopping up the sad remains of her abruptly canceled party. Yoon sighed heavily. "I refuse to accept that your annoying little brother can just ruin all your plans in three seconds!"