Work Text:
Amity's pale hands tapped idly at the bloodwood desk she'd been gifted years prior. She would tap her feet, if her legs were long enough to do so. In front of her lay a discarded stack of invites for her birthday. Her mother's demand lingered.
"You were planning to invite all of your classmates? Ridiculous. Only a few are of high enough status to attend an event held by our family. Have you forgotten who we are, Mittens?"
A sigh escaped her lips as she began flipping through the names of were-to-be guests. Angmar Wrath, Vivian Barbivian, Bo Gus, Eileen Clampitt, Lapis Ruth, Celine Nightshade, Lloyd and Luella Linslet, Belinda Carlisle, Ivor Brute, Phineas Pforrb, Willow Park--
Amity gasped softly.
With no regard for the other invites' safety, Amity cleared them off her desk with solely Willow's invite in her hand. She couldn't NOT invite her best friend to her birthday party. Who does that?
But Mom said...
Who cares what Mom thinks? It's my birthday! Who's turning seven years old? Not her, that's for sure!
Don't let her catch you thinking that! Did you forget she's an oracle?
I want Wills to be at my birthday party! It's not fair.
You can't, Mom and Dad will punish you.
But Boscha and Skara are mean. I'd never want to be friends with them.
Just go the easy route. Like she says, Mom knows best.
Amity gazed defeatedly at Boscha and Skara's invites. She picked up the rest of the scattered envelopes and dumped them in the abomination trash can beside her desk, Willow's included.