Birthday Girl

by Penelope Douglas

  I’m not sure if Pike is paying me any mind, because I haven’t looked at him to check his whereabouts, but once in a while, I feel the back of my neck get warm or a tingle spread up my spine.

  “Oh, hey, Jordan,” someone says, hopping over my legs, about to trip. “Didn’t see you there.”

  He laughs, and I look over from where I lay on the grass to see Carter Hewitt smiling over his shoulder at me. Another guy and girl stand around him, but I don’t remember their names even though we all graduated together.

  Carter and I were supposed to go tubing today, but he cancelled due to this block party his parents asked him to be here for. Luckily, too, because I was having a hard time talking myself into not cancelling. I didn’t want to let Pike win that argument, but he was right. Tubing is an excuse to get drunk, and I wasn’t in the mood.

  I sit up and dust the grass off my arms that I was using for a pillow to watch the stars start to come out. “Hey, what are you guys doing?” I ask.

  “Anything but this.” He sighs. “There’s a shitload of people at the A&W. Wanna come? I’ll buy you a float.”

  I chuckle under my breath and stand up. That actually sounds really good.

  “I haven’t been there in so long,” I remark. “Why not? Let me just tell my ride.”

  He and his friends head to their cars up the street, and I jog over to the lawn chairs full of guys in the center of the road. Pike sits with his back to me, while Dutch lounges next to him with his wife on his lap, and a few others around the circle I recognize from Pike’s poker games.

  “Hey,” I say, coming up to Pike’s side. “Some friends are heading to the A&W. Root beer floats and that. They invited me to come.”

  I’m not asking permission, but it kind of comes out like that.

  He doesn’t look at me, just tips up his bottle of beer and takes a sip. “Root beer float?” he repeats sternly. “What are you…five?”

  Jerk.

  “Noooooo,” I say, “but that’s how you like to treat me sometimes.”

  Dutch laughs quietly next to him but speaks up, in my defense, “Hey, I still love floats, man.”

  I roll my eyes at Pike and look to Teresa, smiling. “Thank you so much for having me,” I tell her. “This was nice.”

  “Thanks for coming, sweetheart. And thanks for the food.”

  “How you getting home?” Pike interjects, still avoiding my eyes.

  “I’ll bring her.”

  I look over to see Carter stepping up next to us, and Pike turns his head just a hair to see him before turning away again.

  I lift the corner of my mouth in a little smirk and bend down, speaking a few inches from his ear. “Do I have a curfew?”

  Dutch snorts, and I see a little snarl flare on Pike’s mouth before it disappears.

  “Have fun,” he says tightly.

  I stand up again and turn, following Carter to his truck as amusement lightens my mood again.

  Pike is jealous.

  And while I don’t want to be thinking about him, I really like knowing he’s trying not to think about me.

  How much of what he wants is he hiding or burying or trying to suppress? What does it look like when he doesn’t control himself anymore?

  “Oh, my God, did you hear about Jillian?” Selena Gardner gestures to another girl, intermittently chewing on the end of a straw. “She tells Dean and Matt that one of them is the father, they go to get paternity tests, and neither one of them is the dad!” She laughs.

  “Oh, my God!” The other girl’s eyes bug out. “Shit, does she even know whose it is?”

  “Who cares?” Selena furrows her brow, leaning back on the car again. “I’d be more concerned about catching something other than a baby. I don’t leave the house without condoms anymore. You never know when you’re going to need them. Like really…”

  Everyone laughs, and I fake a half-smile in an effort not to be awkward, but I’m sure I am, since I have barely said two words in the last ten minutes.

  We got to the A&W an hour ago, and as expected, the place is full of teenagers and families with truck beds full of kids. The moonlight and crickets compete with all the headlights and car stereos, and the smell of charbroiled burgers and hot asphalt fills the air as engines rev and car doors slam.

  There’s not a single person here I’ve talked to more than twice since I graduated over a year ago.

  “I love this,” someone says to Selena, reaching over and handling her small Louis Vuitton purse. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Isn’t it cute?” Selena lifts the strap over her head, showing the girl the purse. “I feel kind of bad. I owe my dad so much money, but I just had to have it.”

  I drop my eyes to the purse, equal amounts jealous and aggravated. Sure, I’d love a purse like that, and I’d love to have her problems where she can mooch off family, because that’s what family’s for when you’re nineteen.

  Part of me wishes I could ever be like that.

  But even after I finish school, I’ll be so strapped with student loans, frivolities like designer handbags will still be a long shot. And strangely enough, I’m okay with that. I’d rather have a decent car. A house. The ability to pay all of my bills in the same month.

  Selena and I are living through completely different problems, and I relate to her even less now than I did in high school. I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

  Without making up some excuse to escape, I just turn and walk toward the side of the building, digging out my cell phone.

  “Hey, Jordan. You okay?” I hear Carter call.

  I turn my head, seeing him stand with some others, and I nod.

  Once I reach somewhere slightly quieter, I dial Cam and hold the phone to my ear, tossing my empty cup in the trash can.

  “Hey,” she chirps, knowing it’s me.

  “Hey,” I say, her voice instantly soothing me. “Are you working? Can you come and get me?”

  “I am working,” she tells me, “but I can split for a half hour. Where are you? Is everything okay?”

  I notice music in the background and realize she’s at work.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I’m at the A&W. I just want to go home.”

  Home.

  I pause every time I say it, knowing full-well it’s not really my home, but it feels weird to say, “Pike’s house” or “Cole’s dad’s house,” too.

  After I hang up with Cam, I hit the bathroom first and then let Carter know I’m catching a ride home. There’s momentary disappointment, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s lost his hook-up for the night. Although, I’m not sure how he thought I would be anyway, especially after ignoring me to talk about cars and then being all-too-happy to let me get wrangled into “catching up” with a bunch of girls I never did any catching up with before, even in high school.

  It’s not that there’s really anything wrong with Carter or Selena or anyone else here. But when they talk, you can tell they have nice things, like money in their pockets. And their moms. They have this lightness to their voices where you can hear that they haven’t been evicted from an apartment before or are trying to decide if they should trade in their smartphones for a flip phone, because it’s cheaper.

  I’m different from them, and I always have been. Being here tonight just brings those feelings back, the feelings I hated having in high school, and when I’m around Pike, I...

  I knit my brow, thinking.

  When I’m around him, I’m in my element, I guess.

  And more than anything right now, I just want to go home. Or wherever he is.

  Cam arrives in less than fifteen minutes, and I climb into her car, not protesting as she speeds through town toward Pike’s neighborhood. Her boss is lenient, but the longer she’s away, the more money she loses, so I let her rush.

  “Thank you,” I tell her. “Sorry to pull you away.”

  She’s in a thigh-length black coat, tied at the waist, and I’m pretty sure she�
��s not dressed in much underneath, just slipped something on to walk through the parking lot without getting molested.

  “You sure you’re okay?” she asks again.

  I grab the dash with one hand as she makes a sharp right. “Yeah.”

  “Everything going fine with the dad?” She glances over at me. “You know you can come to my place any time. You’re welcome to stay.”

  “I know.”

  Nothing is wrong. In fact, I’m now realizing everything that’s right, and it’s not at the A&W. I know what I want, and I know why it can’t be with Pike. I just need to find someone exactly like him.

  I clutch the root beer float I bought for him as a gag as my sister winds through the streets and finally pulls up in front of Pike’s house.

  I groan, my stomach still somersaulting. “Thank you.”

  I climb out of the car, hooking my wallet on my wrist and closing the door.

  “Is that April Lester’s car?” Cam asks through the open window.

  I turn my head, seeing a red Mazda Miata convertible parked behind Pike’s truck, and my stomach sinks.

  What the fuck? It’s late.

  I dart my eyes to the house and see that it’s dark, no lights on anywhere. What would they be doing in there with no lights on?

  A lump swells in my throat, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  “She’s probably selling Girl Scout cookies,” Cam jokes.

  But I’m seething. “It’s not cookie season.”

  “Oh, honey, for some of us, it’s always cookie season.”

  And I turn to my sister who makes a V with her fingers in front of her mouth and sticks her tongue between the two fingers, wiggling it.

  I push off the door, mumbling, “Bite me.”

  But she just laughs, kicking her car into gear. “Goooooood luuuuuuck.”

  It takes two tries to swallow as I look up to the house. What is she doing here? What is she doing in there?

  Yes, it’s his house, and to my knowledge he hasn’t hooked up with anyone since I came here weeks ago. He’s young, single—he has every right to bring women home.

  But it doesn’t stop my heart from beating a mile a minute or my stomach from hurting. I’m here. Couldn’t he go to her house instead? Or to a motel?

  I walk up the steps of the front porch, my heart pulsing in my ears, and turn the knob, but it’s locked. Pike almost always leaves the door unlocked for me. Even if I’m at work until two in the morning.

  I try to keep the float stable in my left hand as I dig in my shorts for the key. Pulling it out, I unlock the door, dread weighing me down as I open it. If I walk in on them doing something, I’m not sure I won’t burst into tears or start screaming.

  Please, don’t, Pike. Please don’t do this.

  I step into the house, softly closing the door behind me and locking it. I look around the dark living room, and my ears perk at the silence, listening for anything that will confirm my worst fears.

  Slowly trailing into the kitchen, I see my candy apple candle lit on the table, its soft glow brightening the darkness. I didn’t light it, though.

  I clench my teeth. Was he going for ambience or something?

  I look out the window over the sink and into the backyard, seeing the pool lit up but no one out there.

  Walking back for the living room, I head toward the stairs, but then I hear muffled laughing, and I stop. Heading for the basement door, I gently twist the knob and quietly pull open the door, immediately hearing their clear voices.

  “I want to hit the black one,” April whines.

  “Black one is last,” Pike explains, his voice deeper and more playful than usual. “You put it in a pocket now, you lose the game.”

  “What do I get if I win?”

  “What do you want?”

  She laughs softly, and I hear shuffling. I can’t see them as they’re around the corner at the pool table, but she’s doing something, and I squeeze the door knob in frustration.

  And then I hear his hushed, low voice. “I think that’s if I win,” he answers to whatever she’s doing, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she moans, and my eyes go round, not sure if she’s doing something to him or he’s doing something to her.

  What the hell? Is he serious? How long have they been here already? He knew I could be home anytime.

  I’m a kid, for crying out loud. How am I supposed to get school work done and sleep if they’re going to go at it all night?

  And this is what he was planning, I’m sure. If they wanted to play pool, they could’ve gone to The Cue. He brought her here for sex.

  I march back through the kitchen and into the laundry room, ripping open the washer door, and dumping the root beer float into the bin, paper cup and all. I slam the lid shut again and start the machine and then tear open the dryer door, pulling out his shit and slamming that door, too. If he wants to treat me like a kid, then here we go.

  I jog up the stairs and swing into my bedroom, turning on my boombox and blaring Bad Medicine as I slip off my day clothes and pull on a pair of sleep shorts and half T-shirt.

  Grabbing the handle of the tape player, I saunter back downstairs to the kitchen table and slide into a chair in front of the latest landscaping model I’m working on for school with the music still booming beside me.

  It’s barely ten seconds before I hear Pike’s heavy footfalls on the basement stairs, and I tense my jaw, bracing myself.

  He walks into the kitchen and comes right up to the table, hitting the Stop/Eject button on my player. The house immediately falls silent, and I pop my head up, feigning an innocent look on my face.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

  Pike stands up straight, pinning me with a look that says I’m a terrible liar.

  “Hey, Jordan.” April enters the kitchen behind him. “How are you?”

  I give a tight smile. “Fine.” And I return my attention to my model, messing with some fake grass.

  Pike is still staring down at me, and there’s a long, awkward silence as April probably tries to figure out what’s happening now.

  “I’ll… head out,” she finally says.

  Pike hesitates a moment, and I can see his fist tighten around the chair on the other side of the table, but I won’t meet his eyes.

  I know I just acted like a brat, and I’m a little embarrassed, especially since I didn’t fool him, but…

  He could’ve taken her anywhere. He brought her here in hopes I’d see them together.

  He walks her out, and I can’t hear the few muffled words they exchange, but as soon as the door closes, and I hear the lock click, I exhale.

  She’s gone.

  He walks back into the kitchen, to the fridge, and I notice he’s still wearing the navy blue T-shirt and jeans from earlier with his work boots still on. He’s not the slightest bit undressed, so that’s a good sign.

  “Sorry if that was awkward,” he tells me, pulling out a soda. “We actually just got here ourselves. She stopped by to—.”

  “It’s your house. I don’t care,” I tell him, faking concentration on my task. “Do what you want.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, amusement in his tone. “You were slamming the washer and dryer doors and blaring music at ten at night. You seem…irritable.”

  I shake my head, shrugging. “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to change your lifestyle just because I’m here. Go for it.”

  He’s silent, and I can see him out of the corner of my eye just standing there a moment. I feel bad that I’m now elated he’s going to bed alone. I want him to have someone. Someone to love him and make him feel good.

  But…

  Not her.

  And not anyone else, actually.

  I’m falling for him. I want him to have me.

  And he’s so stubborn, he pulled that tonight just to prove how much he doesn’t want me.

  “But I did think you’d
have some damn taste, for crying out loud,” I remark, gluing on more grass under the fake tree.

  “Excuse me?”

  I look up. “Did you know she broke up Marcus Weathers’ marriage?” I asked him. “She hangs around the bar, waiting to see who’s going to take her home on any given night, and she’s not picky. Married, taken, whatever…”

  “Good thing I’m not taken then,” he fires back. “There’s no problem.”

  I lower my eyes and recap the glue, realizing I lost that round.

  “You can do better,” I finally mumble.

  It’s not that I hate April. I didn’t care what she did to whose marriage before. It takes two to tango, doesn’t it, and Marcus Weathers was also to blame.

  But I care now that it’s hitting too close to home. Pike is taken.

  “What business is it of yours?” he challenges, walking back over to the table. “I’m a grown ass man who’s been having sex since before you were born. I’m used to getting it whenever I like, and I don’t answer to you, you hear me?” His words bite, and I feel small. “I’ll keep doing whatever I want, regardless of the opinions of some kid living under my roof.”

  The word “kid” hits me like a hammer, and my heart sinks. I grind my teeth, twisting the hurt into anger.

  “Got it.” I look up at him. “I’ll go to my room then.”

  I rise from my seat, and his eyes immediately drop to my bare stomach. The T-shirt falls well above my belly button, and I revel in the way his body freezes and he has to tear his eyes away.

  I circle back around the table, toward the living room, but remember the candle burning. Turning back, I make a show of leaning across the oval table, arching my back and feeling my shorts sink lower to expose the red strap of the same thong I wore when we made out in the yard a week ago.

  “Forgot about the candle,” I say, raising my heated eyes to him. “But I can leave it burning if you want. I know the red’s your favorite.”

  Red candle or red thong? Doesn’t take more than one guess to tell which one his attention is on.

  He swallows, his timid eyes glancing at the red silk peeking out. I quirk a smile, and his eyes dart to mine, thinning.

  “You’re pissing me off more by the second.” His raspy growl sounds dangerous. “You ruined my night, and I’ve still got a lot of steam to blow off, so tread carefully.”