Birthday Girl

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Birthday Girl Page 12

by Penelope Douglas


  I know it’s my fear, so I keep my eyes shut, pressing on. I know everything will be fine. It’s my imagination.

  I can do it. I can do it. My lungs stretch painfully, and my throat burns, but I squeeze my fists. Just another second. One more second.

  But suddenly, the water shakes around me, and I pop my eyes open, knowing that it’s not my imagination this time. I look up and see Pike just as he’s reaching out for me. He grabs me under my arms, and I bat at him, shaking my head.

  My lungs are done, though, and I can’t take anymore. Pushing him away through the water, I plant my feet on the bottom of the pool and push off, shooting for the surface.

  I break through, coughing with hair plastered to my face. I hear him spit water out next to me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I growl.

  “I thought you were drowning! What the hell? What were you doing?”

  I cough again, wheezing as I draw in a lungful of air. “Facing my fears. Damn,” I grumble as I swim for the edge.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I swing my arm up and over the ledge, my muscles weak from the scare he just gave me.

  “Are you sure?”

  He hauls himself up and climbs out of the pool, reaching out a hand for me to take.

  I ignore it and the question, pushing myself up to sit on the edge again.

  If he saw me go into the water, then I guess he was probably wondering what I was doing there, but still…

  I almost beat the challenge.

  The shirt hangs on me, heavy and wet, but I can’t take it off. There’s nothing on underneath. I cough again, clearing my throat and catching my breath. He stands next to me, quiet.

  “I heard you and Cole fighting,” he finally says.

  From outside? Great.

  He squats down next to me, facing the water, too. I can’t imagine what he must be thinking. I’m fighting with his son, and then I’m diving fully-clothed into a pool. Yeah…

  I take a deep breath, making sure to calm my tone to ease him. “I make deals with myself,” I say to him but don’t meet his eyes. “If I can do something I don’t want to do, then everything will be fine. If I do something that scares me, then I can beat whatever else comes.” I half-smile. “I don’t like to swim alone. It creeps me out. Especially at night.”

  I finally turn my gaze on him. He’s staring down at the pool, listening.

  “It’s a game I play with myself,” I tell him.

  He nods, understanding.

  “Cole doesn’t want me here,” I say, dropping my eyes as needles stab my throat. “I don’t think he wants me at all anymore.”

  I don’t know why I’m telling him this, but he listens. On the rare occasions we have talked, he seems to want to hear. It’s easy with him.

  “He’s young,” he explains. “We all do and say selfish things when we think we own the world.”

  “Do I?” I shoot back.

  I mean, I’m no angel, but I know I treat Cole better than he treats me.

  Pike doesn’t say anything, but I can see him looking at me.

  I’m a pushover. I walked away from my ex and my parents, but I never let them have it. I never fought back. I just ran.

  Aside from my sister, Cole is all I have, and I let shit slide, because he was more to me than just a boyfriend.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Pike says.

  I glance at him, my heart skipping a beat at seeing his eyes cast down and locked on me. The reflection of the water makes them look cloudy blue.

  “How did you and Cole meet?” he asks.

  And despite my aggravation, I smile a little.

  My eyes drop to the scar on my thumb, and I lick my lips. “When I was sixteen, I worked at a car wash,” I tell him. “No other girls worked there, but it was all I could find, so I gutted it out with a team full of guys.”

  I feel the heat from his body next to me, and I time the rise and fall of his chest, finding myself matching it.

  “I got a lot of crap,” I continue, remembering the snide comments every time I bent over or leaned into a car. “Teenage guys can be…”

  “Yeah,” Pike finishes for me knowingly, humor in his voice. We exchange a grin.

  He used to be a teenage guy, too, after all, I guess.

  “There was a guy named Nick who always got people off my back,” I go on, remembering. “He was nice to me and talked to me. He didn’t leer or act immature.”

  I absently rub my finger over the scar.

  “One day he invites me to hang out, and he brings Cole along.” I look over at Pike, the anger from earlier suddenly gone now. “We all became friends, had a lot of fun, and I think I became closer to them than I have been to anyone. Except my sister, that is.”

  He nods, looking like he’s thinking. And then he asks, “And you and Cole started dating? How did Nick take that?”

  I turn my eyes back out at the pool, taking in a deep breath. “He never knew,” I say quietly.

  Pike remains quiet, the tension in the air thick now. I said he never knew. Not he doesn’t know.

  I clear my throat. “One night, a couple years ago, before Cole and I were seeing each other,” I tell him. “He and Nick were out together. Cole had too much to drink, and he passed out. Nick caught a ride home with someone else.”

  Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and my mouth is so dry.

  “The driver lost control of his truck, it rolled, and all the kids in the back of the bed went tumbling out.”

  “Oh, my God,” he says under his breath, dropping his head.

  I finish. “Nick was caught under. He died a couple days later.”

  I squeeze my fists to try to keep from crying. He was the only person I knew who died. It wasn’t like my mom leaving. Nick didn’t want to go. He lived for video games, and his hair was always hanging over his glasses, and I miss all of his quirks.

  Sometimes I wonder what happened to his little brother’s Nerf gun that we all used and all skinned our thumbs on.

  “Jesus Christ,” Pike mumbles. “How did I not know about that? I faintly remember hearing something, but I didn’t know Cole was friends with anyone in that accident.”

  I sit up straight and nod. “Yeah, Cole…” I pause, trying to find my words. “He had a hard time getting over it.”

  Pike’s eyes narrow on me.

  “He was supposed to be Nick’s ride that night,” I explain.

  Realization crosses his face, and I’m sure he feels like he should know all this, but it makes sense Cole wouldn’t tell many people. He was ashamed.

  “We didn’t let each other out of our sight after that,” I tell him.

  I was hurting, Cole was hurting, and I was the only one who knew why he felt responsible, so I was the only one he could talk to.

  And after a while, it just became habit. Us, side by side. Us, turning to each other. Us, wanting what was familiar, constant, and safe.

  Us, holding onto Nick by holding onto each other. We both found ourselves desperate for one true friend. He and I hurting over Nick, but also me just getting away from my ex-boyfriend. It was so easy to dive into each other and escape. So easy.

  “I’m so sorry, Jordan,” Pike says. “Are you okay?”

  I peer up at him.

  “Sorry.” He falters, looking away. “It’s stupid to ask that now, I guess.”

  No, not stupid at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.

  “Everything’s fine. Or it will be,” I say. “It has to be.”

  He darts his gaze to me again, and I gesture to the pool.

  “I sat at the bottom of a dark pool with my eyes closed until I couldn’t hold my breath anymore. It has to be okay now, right?” I ask.

  He snorts, his mouth turning up in a grin.

  He rises and holds out his hand again, and this time I take it. He pulls me up, and we head for the house, but I notice the candle still burning on the wooden table.

  Darting over, I le
an across the table, close my eyes, and blow, the candle extinguishing. Turning back, I follow him up the steps.

  “Can I ask you another question?” he prods.

  “Shoot.”

  “Why do you do that?” He glances back at me.

  “What?”

  “The closing-your-eyes-to-blow-out-a-candle thing,” he explains. “I’ve seen you do it a few times now.”

  I shrug, not realizing he’d noticed. I thought I’d gotten pretty good at doing it quickly and under the radar.

  “Just a quirk.” I follow him through the screen door. “Birthday wishes don’t always come true, so I don’t waste a chance when I blow out a candle.”

  Jordan

  “Hey, can you pick me up at two?” I pin the telephone between my ear and shoulder as I count out my bank and put it in the register. “Ash didn’t come in. Her baby’s sick, and I don’t have another ride.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Cole says. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

  After our last fight, the aftermath progressed exactly like I predicted. He came home buzzed and relaxed, crawled into bed, and we cuddled it out. Things have almost gotten back to normal—or what our normal is, anyway—enough that I didn’t mind when he tried to pull me into the shower this morning. However, when we got into our bathroom, we discovered his dad had ripped out the sink and had started tearing away the tiles in our shower, our bathroom the next thing on his renovation list. How had we slept through that? And what time did he get up this morning?

  “I’ll be done at two,” I state again, closing the register drawer.

  “Yep, got it. Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” I reply and hang up.

  Pike has been working on my car, and in an effort to smooth things over, I’m sure, Cole actually helped today. I’m not sure how I’m going to repay his dad, though, because I know he’s spending money on parts, even though he acts like he got the new exhaust cheap or just had those new tires laying around. I’ve been trying to go above and beyond in the house, doing things like making breakfast for everyone this morning and cleaning out from under the cushions on the couch. I even planted some flowers in the backyard, around the border, to help the aesthetic, which Pike agreed to as long as I don’t bring flowers in the house. I laugh, thinking about how grumpy he can be sometimes. It’s pretty funny.

  Hours later, exhausted and my feet aching in my Chucks, I can’t wait to get back to the house, either. Home and in bed. I’m so tired.

  Tying my hair up in a ponytail, I count out the bank, put it back in the tray, and slide the tray into the safe. After I cover the liquor bottles, finish the dishes, and turn off the lights, I peer out the window, seeing Cole’s car by the curb. I smile, delighted he’s on time.

  I blow the out the remaining candles on the bar, closing my eyes and taking a breath each time. I hope tomorrow is better than today. It’s my go-to wish when I don’t have anything else in mind, and every day that passes, I’m trying to get closer to making it come true.

  I grab my book bag, stuffing my tips in the pocket and head out the door, locking it behind me. The fresh air feels good in my lungs, and I toss my bag through the open back window before opening the passenger side door. I slide into the front seat, turning my tired but grateful smile on Cole.

  “Hey—” I stop, my smile immediately falling.

  Jay, my ex, sits in the driver’s seat. I look over my shoulder, making sure I didn’t miss Cole passed out in the backseat, but it’s empty.

  My hands tremble. “Where’s Cole?”

  Jay cocks his head, looking apologetic. “He’s wasted, babe. The guys didn’t want to let him drive.” His arm rests over the back of my seat, his hand inches from my hair and neck. “He’s sleeping it off at Bentley’s house. They told him someone would make sure you got home. I volunteered.”

  No. Nuh-uh. Not a chance.

  I don’t hesitate. Pulling the handle, I swing my door open and jump out, reaching into the backseat and retrieving my bag. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I can grab a ride from Shel. She’s still inside.”

  “No, she’s not. You just locked up.”

  I knew he would challenge me. Nothing gets by him.

  An eerie calmness laces his voice, but I know it’s only skin deep. “Come on, I’m already here,” he presses. “You don’t want me to have to have come out here for nothing, do you?”

  I lean down, glaring into his dark brown eyes as I simultaneously fish the bar keys back out of my back pocket. “I didn’t ask you to come. And like I said, I have another ride.”

  Turning around, I hurry for Grounders’ entrance and quickly unlock the door.

  “Jordan!” I hear him bark.

  I yank the door open and step inside, casting a stern look back at him as he still sits planted in the car. “Go home.”

  And I pull the door closed again, twisting the lock and backing away like he’s going to try to bust it down. I stay there, breathing hard and shaking.

  He won’t let that slide. He won’t do anything tonight, because he would’ve been out of the car faster than I could make it to the bar door if he was going to try, but he’ll be pissed enough to not forget.

  He was a six-month-long mistake I made in high school, but I won’t be that stupid again. My guard is up now.

  And he didn’t come to give me a ride home tonight. Not directly, anyway. Maybe after he was done with me.

  I close my eyes, trying to drown out the memory of him pounding on my car window one night as I frantically tried to get my key in the ignition. I can still feel the fire on my scalp from where he yanked my hair.

  I turn away and open my eyes, pushing away the thoughts. After a moment, I hear the engine roar past the bar and the tires screech down the street.

  He’s gone.

  I set my bag down on the bar and run down the hallway, past the bathrooms, and check the locks on the back door, untwisting and re-twisting, yanking the handle to make sure it doesn’t give, and then I jog back up front and check the front door again and the windows.

  Taking my phone from my bag, I sit on a bar stool, clutching it in my fist. Who do I call?

  Jay’s probably telling the truth. Cole is drunk again. Why would he do this? He knew I was counting on him to be here. I’m positive he doesn’t know Jay was the one who came instead, but still… I could fucking kill him.

  I swallow down the sickness rising up my throat.

  I call my sister, but as suspected, it goes to voicemail. She’s probably just getting out of work or home asleep already.

  My dad? Stepmom?

  They haven’t even called since I called them a week ago. They can’t do anything without acting like it’s a huge imposition. Asking them for anything is owing them. It’s a burden.

  I’m a burden.

  Pike crosses my mind. I have no doubt he’d come.

  But it would just piss Cole off if his father found out he dropped the ball tonight, and I don’t want Pike to know, either. It’s embarrassing. We’re adults, and we’ve made our beds. He’s taking care of me enough, and I’m not waking him up when he has work in the morning. It makes me a burden.

  The only other person I could call is Shel, and her home is on the other side of town.

  I don’t want to call Cole, because, of course, he can’t drive, but maybe he could send another friend.

  But no. I’m not calling him. I’m too pissed right now.

  And this town doesn’t have cabs, either.

  I eye the pool table, the overflowing ash trays sitting on the edges, and the scratch marks all over the filthy felt.

  Well, fuck. It’ll be light out in a few hours. I can walk home then. Time to suck it up. I’m not asking anyone for shit.

  Hopping off the stool, I make my way behind the bar again and dig out two stacks of clean white bar towels and carry them to the pool table, one by one fanning them out and covering the dirty surface.

  I kicked off the air conditioner hours ago, so it’s a comfy
seventy-five by now, but I pull out my hoodie from my bag in case I want to cover up later. Grabbing my phone, I leave the hallway light on and climb on the table, scooting down enough, so I have room to lie down. Tucking my arm under my head, I yawn and check the volume and battery on my phone, making sure I have enough power to last in case something goes wrong while I’m alone here all night.

  Like Jay coming back.

  I find my app that makes a box fan sound and play it in hopes I can get a little sleep, but I’m not hopeful. I don’t feel secure, so I can’t relax.

  Closing my eyes, I feel the weight of fatigue on my lids, and the pleasant feel of exhaustion. It’s the kind you know you deserve, because you worked your ass off that day.

  But after twenty minutes, my mind is still racing. My body is done for the day but not my brain.

  When my cell rings, I’m pretty sure it’s a sign I’m not meant to sleep tonight.

  I bring it up to my eyes, squinting at the bright light.

  Pike.

  I knit my brow. “Hello?” I hold it to my ear, yawning again.

  “Hey,” he says as if he didn’t expect to reach me. “I…a….I just saw it was after three, and no one’s home, so I just wanted to check in. Make sure everything’s okay.”

  I turn on my side, still using my bottom arm as a pillow, and hold the phone to my ear with the other hand.

  “I’m fine.” I smile at his concern and joke, “Do I have a curfew or something?”

  “No,” he replies, and I can hear the humor in his voice. “You guys stay out and have fun. Do your thing. I just…” He pauses for a long moment and then continues, “You know, you don’t worry about things you’re not aware of. When Cole didn’t live with me, I didn’t always know where he was or what he was up to, so I didn’t think about it all the time. You two living under my roof now, I seem to be worrying constantly.” He breathes out a laugh. “That bar is shady. I just wanted to make sure you got out of work safely and everything’s cool. I’m just…checking in.”

  I don’t take offense to his remark. It’s not my bar, after all, and yes, it is a dump.

 

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