Birthday Surprise By Dianna Maring Rated: PG Submitted: October 2001 "Please tell me, CJ, please?" "No way, Larkie. It's a big surprise and I'm not gonna spill it." "You better or I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad you put a dent in the car." "I don't care." "Yes, you do." My brother was driving me home from school yesterday when he made googoo eyes at a girl and crashed into a fire hydrant. For 16 he sure is immature. "I can't tell you, it's a big secret," he said. "So?" "I really can't tell you what you're getting for your 13th birthday tomorrow, Larkie." "You know I hate being called Larkie; my name is Lark." "So?" he said, mimicking me. CJ can be a real jerk sometimes. Someday I'll call him by his full name. I know that drives him crazy. "Clark Jerome Kent, Jr., you get your butt in here right this instant!" I knew my Mom beat me to it when I heard her voice screech from the kitchen like nails on a chalkboard. You don't want to cross Lois Lane Kent. When she gets mad, she gets really, really mad. "Did you put a dent in the car?" she asked him. "No." "CJ!" "Well, maybe." I laughed. Boy, he was really going to get it this time. The figure of a little girl stood in the doorway to my bedroom. "Lark," she asked, will you braid my hair so it'll be wavy in the morning?" "Sure I will." My sister Clara sat down in front of my mirror. She and her twin brother Louis were eight but already she had my keen fashion sense. I began to braid her hair. "Is Louis asleep?" I asked her. "Yup." "Whose turn is it on the top bunk?" "His." "Are you just going to answer me with one word?" "Yeah," she said, smiling. I finished braiding her hair. "Good Night, Clara." "Night." She went into her and Louis's bedroom. She likes to say one word as a joke sometimes but everyone knows that once she starts talking she doesn't stop. The babble gene, my dad calls it. She gets it from Mom. Some people say I have that problem but I don't. I never talk a lot. Some people say I talk a lot but I don't. You might think I talk a lot but I don't. You might think I just babble on and on about nothing but I don't. I really don't like talking. Some people may like talking but not me. I hate talking. Some people just go on and on and they never stop talking, but not me. I'm a good girl. I shut up when I'm told. I be quiet when people ask me to. Am I paraphrasing everything? Am I putting everything in a different way? Oh, well. Big deal. Back to my point. I really don't like talking a lot. Am I boring you? Alright then I'll stop writing in my diary and get ready for bed. My usual bedtime routine is brush teeth, put on pajamas, meditate, sleep. When I meditate I always fold my legs and float. I try to clear my mind and not cocentrate on anything. My mind is cluttered enough as it is. I listen to music when I meditate but I keep it down low so I don't wake anyone up. Meditating helps me relax so I can sleep. I don't float in my sleep except when I dream. Well, I've already done eveything else so now I'm going to sleep. Goodnight diary. "Wake up, sweetie. Happy birthday!" "Morning, Mom." "What would you like for breakfast?" "Pancakes." "Pancakes it is." One thing I like about my birthday is I get to eat anything I want. I found my Dad was back from an earthquake in Los Angeles. He was eating breakfast at the table. "Happy Birthday!" He seemed very happy. He must not have heard about what CJ did. Now was the perfect time to ask him. "Daddy, can I open my presents now?" "No." "Please?" "No." "Why not?" "You'll just have to wait until you get home from school." "I won't be able to concentrate all day." "Just be patient. You're like your mother. You have to know everything." As if on cue, Mom walked in. "Do you know what CJ did?" she asked him. "Nope, what did he do this time?" She told him. "CJ!" he bellowed. I wolfed down my last bite of pancake and ran out the door to the bus stop. I wasn't going to stick around for the execution. A minute later CJ joined me on the bus. "So, what are you in for?" I asked him. "I have to work every day after school, and no allowance until the repairs are paid off." "How much?" "At least $1000." "Whoa! Maybe next time you'll keep your eyes on the road." "Shut up." I've often pondered how many numerous times I've heard those words. I turned to see Louis and Clara talking to a friend of theirs. The four of us ride the bus together. The Kent kids. We're a team. Even if we do get on each other's nerves sometimes. We finally arrived at school. My first class is gym. I hate it being my first class because if we go outside the grass is still wet. I do happen to be the fastest girl in my gym class. I don't like to brag, but I'm probably the fastest girl in the world. I would be the fastest person but of course there's Dad and CJ. I walked into the girls' locker room. "Happy Birthday, Lark. By the way did you know the boys' locker room is just behind that wall? Someday I'll bring a drill to make a peep hole and see just what they're up to." My friend Sarah and I have one thing in common. Our interest in boys. I stared at the wall in front of me. "No," I thought, "I shouldn't. It's too bad. Oh, what the heck" I focused my X-ray vision on the wall and slowly it began to disappear. I saw boys! Boys in boxer shorts! Boys in briefs! Boys without shirts! "Heaven, I'm in heaven! Oh, stop it, you're a pervert!" I told myself. "Come on, Lark, we're late." "I'm coming, Sarah." When gym was over, I walked to my next class. I passed CJ's class. He was in Social Studies. They were watching live news. It showed a building fire in Chicago. CJ's hand went up. "Mrs. Andrews?" She sighed, "Yes, CJ, you may go to the bathroom." Apparently he'd used that excuse too many times. She must think he has a bladder the size of an atom. He passed me in the hall. "This looks like a job for Marvelboy," he whispered to me with a wink. Dad and CJ depend on me to keep their secret identities secret. I do a really good job of it too. I haven't told anybody yet. For me that's amazing. The rest of the day dragged by very slowly. My last class of the day was a chorus lesson with Mr Smith. He's a bit of a fruitcake but I like singing. It was my first individual lesson with him. We get graded on them and I think that's pretty stupid. When I got there he was already at the piano. "Lark Kent?" he asked "Yup, that's me." "Interesting name." "Thanks. I'm almost named after my Dad, Clark. My parents said they could always tell I'd be able to sing so they named me Lark, after the songbird." "Oh, I guess you can fly too." I tried to muffle a giggle. "What?" he asked. "It wasn't that funny". When my lesson was done he told me I did good and gave me an A. I might have been happy but all I could think about was my presents. I realized why the day was crawling along when the last bell of the day finally rang. I couldn't wait to get home. I jumped off the bus and rushed inside. Everyone was there waiting for me. "Where are the presents?" "Keep your pants on, greedy girl," my Dad said. "Here," Mom handed me a present. "This one's from all of us." It was a thin rectangular box. "Definitely clothes. I hope it's not socks or underwear," I thought to myself. "Well, go on, open it," said Louis. I smiled. He's just as impatient as I am. I couldn't take the suspense anymore. I ripped open the paper, and I didn't believe what I saw. "Oh my gosh!" I said, amazed It wasn't just any old clothes. It was a costume. CJ hugged me. "Happy birthday, Larkie! Or should I say, Ultragirl?" The End