Tara had looked at the pretty puppy calendar several times that week. She was counting down the days to Lindsey's birthday party. Suddenly the bold, black number thirteen seemed to leap out at her from the Friday column.
"Friday the thirteenth!" Tara gasped. "Lindsey's party is on Friday the thirteenth! That's the worst possible day for a party!"
How could Lindsey celebrate on that day? Why hadn't she moved her party to Saturday? Tara called her close friend and pointed out the mistake. Lindsey thought Tara was crazy.
"I want to have my party on my birthday," she said. "Who cares about silly superstitions? I'm not afraid of Friday the thirteenth, and you shouldn't be afraid, either."