Meg at Sixteen Read Online Free PDF

“Sorry.”
    Meg nodded, and walked away from him. The bartender wasn’t half as sorry as she was. What a dump, she thought. What a dumpy dumpy dump. The words proved no comfort at all.
    Then the guests began arriving, and although Meg was sure their looks were full of pity for her, at least there were a lot of people, and she didn’t feel unprotected anymore. Aunt Grace stood by her side, and made sure she said thank you to everybody.
    â€œHi, Meg,” Tinker Thomas said as she came over, carrying a large, promising box.
    â€œHer name is Margaret,” Aunt Grace declared, and Meg took a certain pleasure in seeing Tinker blush.
    â€œI meant Margaret,” Tinker said. “Hi, Margaret.”
    â€œHello, Margaret,” Aunt Grace said. “We do not approve of slang here.”
    Tinker clenched her teeth, and Meg’s pleasure in the moment evaporated. She liked Tinker, and thought Tinker liked her, and now Tinker would avoid her or feel sorry for her or simply not bother to be her friend. “Hello, Margaret,” she said. “Happy birthday.”
    â€œThank you, Tinker,” Meg said, and watched helplessly as Tinker ran from her side to join some of the other kids. Meg could see them all staring at her, and knew they were laughing at her, at her dress, at her party, at her obvious misery.
    â€œHello, Margaret.”
    â€œHello, Clark,” Meg said, smiling at the one true friend she had among the party guests.
    â€œI brought you this,” he said. “Happy birthday.”
    â€œThank you,” Meg said. “Thank you for coming.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have missed it,” he said. “Hello, Miss Winslow.”
    â€œClark,” Aunt Grace said, and jutted her cheek out for Clark to kiss. He did, with an ease that Meg envied. Clark Bradford was eighteen, and had grown up in Boston. In many ways, he knew Aunt Grace better than she did, and maybe because she wasn’t his aunt, he even seemed to like her. It occurred to Meg then that she might marry Clark. It made sense. Aunt Grace would approve, as would Clark’s family, and Clark, she was sure, loved her. It would be nice to have a husband who wasn’t afraid of Aunt Grace. Maybe Clark would propose to her that very night, pink ruffles and all. If she were engaged, that would make her special. She would feel protected if she were engaged.
    She smiled at the thought, and Clark smiled back at her. “I hope you’ll save me a dance,” he said.
    â€œOf course I will,” Meg said. She could talk to Clark. He didn’t frighten her. They’d played together when they were children, and her parents had gone up to Boston for holidays and family occasions. Clark was safe and appropriate and he loved her. Meg immediately felt better about things.
    â€œOh no,” Clark said. “My father has his camera out again. I apologize for him, Miss Winslow. Ever since he got the camera for his birthday, he takes it with him wherever he goes.”
    â€œMotion pictures?” Aunt Grace said.
    â€œHome movies,” Clark said. “Dad, really. Do you have to point that thing at us?”
    â€œSmile, Margaret,” Mr. Bradford said, and Meg did as she was told. “Very good,” he said. “Lovely party, Grace. Happy birthday, Margaret. Many happy returns and all that. I’ll be sure to film you while you’re dancing with Clark.”
    â€œThank you,” Meg said.
    Clark grinned at her, and moved up the line. Meg continued to stand by Grace, accept her presents, and say her thanks, but her mind was on Clark. She didn’t know why she’d never thought about marrying him before, but maybe marriage was one of those things you didn’t think about until you were sixteen.
    â€œHappy birthday, Margaret.”
    â€œThank you, Isabelle,” Meg said. Isabelle Sinclair looked wonderful. She was wearing a pale green strapless gown with not a single