My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century by Harris Rachel

Author:Harris, Rachel [Harris, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Perseus Books Group
Published: 2012-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Girls, once you have eaten your fill, please join me in the atrium,” Aunt Francesca says, her eyes glistening. She gets up from the breakfast table and bounces to the door, entirely too energetic for the early hour. Before she steps into the hall, she turns back and wiggles her eyebrows excitedly. “The day of merriment has commenced!”

Actually, it commenced at the break of dawn, when the house became a flutter of ball-related commotion. Servants have been pouring out of the woodwork, dusting and polishing already-gleaming furniture and bussing in candles and linens by the cartful. The kitchen staff has been a frenzy of culinary activity, bringing a crazy amount of food up the three long flights of stairs where it’s supposedly more convenient to prepare it.

As for what my aunt has up her sleeve now, I have no clue, but I can only assume it also involves tonight’s dreaded gala, or perhaps yet another surprise I don’t want.

Alessandra turns to me and waves her arms happily. Then she takes in my lack of enthusiasm and sighs.

“Why the sullen face, Cat?” Hearing my real name in her sweet voice is about the only thing that can make me smile at this point. She grabs both of my hands and hauls me to my feet. “You heard Mama. Today is a day of merriment, all in honor of you, but you do not appear sufficiently joyous. Do they not have balls in your time?”

“Oh, they have balls, all right,” I tell her as she links her arm around mine and drags me down the hall. “One in particular that I thought I’d traveled five hundred years to avoid.”

Her forehead crinkles, and I lean my head on her shoulder. I exhale forcefully and explain. “In four days, I turn sixteen. Besides getting my driver’s permit, nothing much is gonna change when I hit that magic number. Maybe it’s different in the past, but in the United States circa twenty-first century, it really is just another year. Or at least it should be.”

I stop next to an open window overlooking the myriad of servants scurrying back and forth across the courtyard like happy little vessels of glee. I’ve learned that holding a ball in one’s home is a big deal, and the servants take great pride in preparing everything. Each house staff strives to outdo, outshine, and out-feed the last, letting the town’s rumor mill act as judge.

Clearly I’m the only one in this joint not in the mood to party.

“Unfortunately, it’s become extremely popular in the future for girls my age to host big parties celebrating their sixteenth birthday. And that’s all fine and good—I’ve even gone to a few and had an okay time. But I never wanted to have one myself.”

I sigh, slither down the plastered wall, and plop onto the floor. Alessandra glances both ways to ensure we’re alone, then demurely settles beside me, straightening her skirts around her. She catches me smiling at her ever-proper mannerisms, and I shake my head.

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