The whole next week I walked on eggshells. Tiffani was sweeter than normal and the packs of prepubescent teens swirled tumors about Tori. Supposedly she was either off in Italy hiding an unplanned pregnancy or she had killed herself because she got pregnant and tried to cut out her own baby. To me both were ridiculous and I stayed away from talking about it all together. Even if I had nothing to do with it I would have questioned those stories. I hope. But maybe I was as dumb as the flock without the backstory skinny, I'd never know.

My body felt like I'd injected caffeine ten times the lethal dose. I didn't sleep, or eat, and I began to lose weight causing a sagging hallow look to my face. I knew it was stress. But Tiffani couldn't stand seeing me look ratchet and set up for me to meet with Kiki.

Kiki had dragon lady nails and hair that looked like she stuck pennies in light sockets to get it to stand at attention. She was funny and snarky and wore make up that I'm sure she learned from Mimi on The Drew Carey show. But she was a magician.

Those nails somehow almost seemed to retract when she was washing my hair and after an hour with her I looked like I'd been at a spa and felt so relaxed it was like I'd never met Tiffani. Somewhere between the warm sugar scrub and the seaweed soak we began to talk.

"Why you so stressed out girl. Life is short. You look eighty!" I couldn't tell what culture she was, or her age. For Kiki her work was making everything better, even your outlook.

"I don't know Kiki. Life I guess."

Kiki made a clicking sound and shook her head at me. Somehow I felt both scolded and cared about at the same time. She scrunched up one eye like she was studying a diamond.

"You know, sometimes we get on the ride. And it's good. And it can be exciting. But sometimes we run the ride. And it's everything we want it
to be.  You gotta take a chill pill and make it a dose of zen."

I laughed until tears came at crazy Kiki spouting 1980 pop culture psychology advice. She needed to slow down the tv watching and get some real life conversation. But she did work her magic and by the end of the session I looked like I could step into the clothes of a hobo and still have people know that urban sheik look was intentional. 

I did feel better. When I joined the girls in the backyard by the pool they looked just as refreshed. Tiffani was talking about taking everyone to her aunts place in Georgia and the girls sat looking dazed with mini umbrella drinks in their hands.

When she saw me she stopped talking and stared for a moment. Smiled like she did the hair and makeup herself and gave me a nod. "Now that, is an improvement. Try not to ruin it by looking like yourself anymore.  When one link of a chain is weak or ugly, it weakens the whole thing."

She went back under the umbrella and began fiddling with her lucky eight ball. "Alright girls. The ball has spoken. This weekend we take another chair from the circle. The music goes on, but someone will not."

Did she seriously make a reference to musical chairs as a way of justifying murder?  What the heck was up with this psycho lunatic? 

She led us in the house and to my horror folding chairs were set up in the living room. Each chair held the photo of a face of someone Tiffani and the magic eight ball predicted for possible prom queen.

The robot girls squealed and jumped clapping their hands together with the joy of a game. I would have face palmed, but my make up was kinda perfect and I didn't want to screw it up.

She played Shaun Menendez and turned her back while we marched to the circle. Each time someone lost they and picked a chair to take out of the running. Slowly it dawned on me that the winning chair was about to be killed. I started playing for Emily Carver. She was my lab partner in Chem and a really nice person. Nothing about her screamed Prom Queen or psycho.

I played with the gusto of an Olympic athlete. Until round three when I finally managed to get Emily's seat perfectly lined up by Mini. I acted like I wanted it and she pounced like CatWoman. I was finally without a chair and dragged my choice of chairs out of the circle. I picked Emily's.

Tiffani gave me a smile. "Competitive. I like that. Picking the chair that cost you, that's a move I'd do, if I ever lost. Which I wouldn't. You can go sit with Amber the other loser. This won't take long.

It took three games to finally be finished (because there were only four of us playing). Each time Tiffani switched the pictures to a new batch I felt bile rise up in my throat. We were weighing someone's life on musical chairs. If I ever have kids I'll ban them from playing this game. I'll come up with some kind of an excuse but I'll never relive these tense moments.

The big Loser was Micah Rhodes. All I knew about Micah was that she had her own set of rules. She came to school by a professional driver and only when it suited her. She dressed head to toe designer and when she walked down them, the hallways cleared. She was mysterious and beautiful and a full time biatch. But killing her still seemed way over the top. And dangerous. 

For some reason she gave off the vibe of a secret agent ninja. People moved just because she did. It was unsettling. I'd seen her in action and this one gave me the cold sweats. In my mind even four to one we were outnumbered. Five to one of Tiffani was taking part, but I pretty much knew she didn't get her hands dirty.  That much had been clear from the start.

Tiffani put her hand in a silk bag and pulled out a small slip of paper. "Oh!  This one will be fun!"  In keeping with the theme of Urban Legends it's time to have a party. Aria, you don't get to host because no one would come. Mindi, your dad still have that no teen in the vicinity order?" Mindi nodded. (And I put a pin in that tidbit to ask about later).

Ok. The rest of you are just as invisible so I'll have it here. Start spreading the news, it will be Saturday night and Taylor Swift will come so watch your boyfriends. Oh, forgot who I was talking to, you Polly Pockets don't have boyfriends, so I'll watch mine.

Don't invite nerds. So no personal friends. And only whisper that the party is happening. Don't give specifics and don't invite people. Got it?

Amber raised her hand and Tiffani gave her the annoyed look. "Yes?" 

"Ummm, I was just wondering. Won't people be mad when Taylor doesn't show up?" Amber asked in record speed and in a whisper.

Tiffani there her head back and let out an exasperated sigh. "Like she'd miss one of my parties. The girls an addict. She works her way into all of them and it's super lame. She can't hold her liquor and runs off the boys with her sad dating history marathon speeches. Why do you think I haven't had a party in a year?"

We went home with plans on finalizing the details tomorrow afternoon. The ride was silent except for the Taylor Swift cd blaring about how a boy had broken her heart. Maybe Tiffani had a point.

******************************************
I'm sure your as anxious as I was about how this went down. I'd tell you know but Kiki promised me she would glue some extensions into my balding spots. I'm telling you, the stress is killing me. Tiffani has to die. I just hope you agree because if I go to jail I'm gonna need some pen pals.