“It hadn’t come up,” Anya stumbled.
“I think you should have a party,” Shannon said.
“I’m not having a party.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your birthday was coming up.”
“But you’re turning eighteen! You need a party!”
“Who would I even invite?”
“Um, me!” Shannon said, pointing to her chest, her forehead crinkling with indignation.
“I wouldn’t mind being included in birthday plans,” I added.
“I’m not having a party. Okay?” She stomped away from us into the nonfiction side of the library and plopped down on the couch.
“Geez, what’s her deal?” Shannon asked. I shrugged.
“Well, you better go find out. She’s your girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. We hadn’t actually discussed it, but I liked the sound of it.
I sat next to Anya on the couch. “So, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up? And why did you get all weird when Shannon asked you about it?”
“It’s just not a big deal. That’s all,” she said, tapping at her fingernails. I slid closer to her and put my hand on hers. She looked up and sighed. “My mom and I always go out to eat, but that’s it. I’ve never had a regular birthday party. It’s fine. It’s just not our thing.”
“Okay.”
“The thought of having a party just points out to me that I basically have no friends.” She looked back down at her lap, running her fingers across my palm.
“Hey, that’s not true.” I tugged her hands and made her look at me. “You have me, and Shannon. Two good friends. Right?”
She looked up at me for a while before a smile started to spread across her face. “Right.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, but the truth is I couldn’t invite you to a party anyway. Remember?”
My stomach clenched tight, but I bit back my irritation. I didn’t want to fight with her again, but she must have seen some of it on my face because she flinched. She changed the subject, showing me some new pictures she’d taken.
Eighteen. Soon she’d be eighteen, and all of this would change. I hoped it would. I had to believe it would.
Anya
I ran over what I wanted to say in my head before my mom got home. I’m turning eighteen. I’m a legal adult. I should be allowed to date. Simple, direct. True. How could she argue with that?
“Hello, dear,” she said as she strode into my room. “How are you doing today?”
“I’m fine.” I wiped my palms on my skirt and smiled at her.
She sat on the window seat next to me and kissed the top of my head. I took a deep breath and thought about Zander. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Okay?” She sat down next to me and started to unbraid my hair. “What is it?”
“Well, I was thinking about my birthday coming up.”
“Did you have somewhere special you want to go?”
“Wherever you want is fine, mom.”
“You’re turning eighteen. That’s a big one.” She smiled at me, then took my shoulder and gently turned me away from her. She reached over to my dresser and grabbed my chintz patterned hairbrush. When I was younger, she would brush my hair every night. I loved it. It was our special time. As I got older and the red faded to blond, she brushed it less and less. I knew, of course, that one had nothing to do with the other. I was just getting old enough to do it myself. But I still missed the red.
Sometimes she would still come and help me brush it out, since it was so long. It was one of the reasons I kept it long. When she pulled me onto the window seat and ran a brush through my hair until it shined, it made me feel like a kid again. Made me feel closer to her.
That night was no different. “I know. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.” Sitting together like this, not having to face her, made it easier. “I was wondering, well, what if I wanted to spend my birthday with someone else?” Her hand stopped mid-brush, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “I mean, I’d still have dinner with you, but maybe afterward, or on a different day,” I said in a rush. She slowly ran one of her hands through my hair, then started brushing it again with the other.
“Who?” she asked. My stomach clenched up.
“Friends.”
I heard her breath come out of her nose in a slow whoosh. I didn’t have to be looking at her to know her lips were pressed together and her forehead was creased. “Yes, but whom?” she asked again.
I decided to go with the safer answer first. “Shannon.”
“Oh,” she said before I could continue. “Isn’t she a bit older than you?”
“Just a couple years.”
“I don’t know, Anya. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be going out with older girls. I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”
“She’s only a couple years older than me. And she’s not trouble. You know that, you’ve known Shannon forever.” I laughed, weakly. What did she think? Shannon would take me to a crack house for my birthday? The whole thing was ridiculous, and I would have laughed outright if I wasn’t so nervous about where this conversation was leading.
My mom brushed my hair, not saying anything. The faster her hands moved, the faster I knew her brain was working. I knew she didn’t want me to not have friends; she just worried.
“How about this, Shannon can join us for dinner and spend the night here. A slumber party. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“I’m turning eighteen. Not eight.” The thought of inviting Shannon to a slumber party made me feel about three feet tall. She’d really think I was a baby.
“Anya.” She grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face her. “I am trying to compromise with you.” She used her overly-calm, I’m-trying-to-be-reasonable-and-you’re-acting-like-a-child voice. “If you want to spend your birthday with Shannon, you can have her come here. I am not about to let you go running all over town. If she really is a friend, she will understand and have no problem coming here. All right?”
Her eyes locked on mine, daring me to argue; her eyebrows were up and her lips tight.
“All right.”
She nodded once, then turned me back around and re-braided my hair while I bit my bottom lip and forced the tears behind my eyes to stay put.
What was I going to tell Zander?
Chapter Sixteen
Zander
I crept around Anya’s backyard, trying to stay near the trees and out of sight in case her mom looked out the windows, even though it was the middle of the night and she should be in bed. At least I hoped she was. If she wasn’t, Anya wouldn’t be able to sneak out.
A warm breeze blew against my back while I waited for Anya. We’d agreed on a time, but I’d gotten there early. Excited, I guess. I saw her slip out her back door and carefully shut it behind her. Her long blond hair was in a single French braid, running all the way down to her butt. I wondered what it looked like down, imagined Anya leaning over me, her hair surrounding us like a mosquito net.
She took quick, careful steps to the edge of the yard, then stepped past the tree line and right into my arms. The sweet smell of her filled the night air. I leaned down to kiss her neck, her jawline, her lips. She drew me tighter against her, her arms wrapped around my waist, gripping the back of my T-shirt.
I pulled my lips from hers and looked down at her. Her eyes were so blue in the moonlight, her lips pink and full, smiling up at me. My heart felt more than full, overflowing. With each loud beat, warmth spread through me. My skin tingled and every part of me wanted her. Wanted her forever.
I couldn’t hold the words in any longer, even if I’d wanted to. “Anya, I love you.”
Her arms tightened around me, and she smiled. Her eyes moistened, and for a second I didn’t know if it was out of happiness or not. My heart stopped, and I held my breath.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, and air rushed bac
k into my lungs. Joy filled me like helium in a balloon, and I thought I might float away into the trees. I held her close, one arm around her lower back and one hand cupping her head, and kissed her so hard I tipped her backward. She clung to me and kissed me back with just as much force. When we finally broke apart, we both gasped for air.
I lifted her chin so she was looking up at me. A giant grin had overtaken my face, and I expected a similar look on hers. Instead I was met with still-teary eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Zander. I chickened out. I tried to talk to my mom, but I couldn’t. She got all weird just at the thought of me hanging out with Shannon. I didn’t know how to bring you up after that. I know I promised, and I will tell her, I will. I just… I didn’t know what to say, and I… I chickened out. I’m so sorry.” The words came out in a rush, and the tears came with them. They ran down her face, and my throat stung. I didn’t want to make her cry, didn’t want to be the cause of the tears soaking her cheeks. I wiped them away with my thumb and held her close again.
“It’s okay. I can wait. All I care about is being here with you now. All right?”
“All right.” She nodded and one side of her mouth curled up in a weak smile.
“But I do have one request.”
Her eyebrows pushed together, causing a line to crease her forehead.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
She laughed and buried her face into my chest. Then she tipped her head back, letting the moon light up her face. “Of course.”
I pressed my lips against hers, but I was grinning at the same time. “Come on,” I said when we broke apart again, taking her hand and leading her through the woods to our clearing. We lay down in the grass and spent the rest of the night talking, laughing, and kissing. We said the words, “I love you,” over and over until the sun climbed over the horizon and told us it was time to go.
Anya
“Are you going to ask her?” Zander laughed as I spied on Shannon at her desk. I was crazy excited at the thought of having a slumber party, but the thought of asking her to my house made my stomach twist with nerves.
“I don’t know. She’ll think I’m five years old,” I whined. Shannon hadn’t been to my house in nearly ten years. When my mom got her job in the city, she no longer had time to hang out with Mrs. Marsh.
It had never occurred to me to invite Shannon over just to hang out with me.
“She won’t think you’re five,” he said, taking my hand. “She said she wanted to hang out with you for your birthday, remember? And girls like slumber parties, don’t they? Truth or dare and junk food and stuff.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been to one.” But all of those things sounded like fun. The nerves bouncing around inside me spun toward excitement.
“Go on then.” Zander gave me a little push on the small of my back.
“Hey, what are you guys up to?” Shannon asked, looking up from the stack of books in front of her.
“We were just discussing Anya’s birthday,” Zander answered from behind me.
“Oh yeah? What’s going on?” Shannon slid the books over, leaned her elbows on her desk, and dropped her chin into her hands.
“Well, I always go out to dinner with my mom, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with us. Then afterward, you could come over and we could hang out. You could stay over, if you wanted. Like a slumber party. Or not, if that’s lame. It’s up to you. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to. Just so you know. But it could be fun. I think.” I stopped to take a breath and realized that Shannon had her lips pinched together, clearly holding back a laugh.
“Yeah, that’d be great.” She looked like she really meant it.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be awesome. I’ll bring some cookie dough and trashy magazines.”
Zander elbowed me in the side and gave me an I-told-you-so smirk.
Ignoring him, I leaned across the desk and gave Shannon a big hug. “Thank you!”
“Of course!”
“I hate to interrupt.” Zander leaned into my back and spoke over my shoulder. “But do you mind if I talk to Shannon for a minute?”
I turned and squinted up at him. “What about?”
“Top secret birthday things.” He grinned at me, and my whole body tingled. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“I guess that’s okay then.” He squeezed my hand quickly as I slipped past him. I wandered over to the old side of the library and glanced around. Since no one was there, I did a quick spin before plopping down on the little couch. Tucking my feet under myself, I took a book out of my purse, but I couldn’t read. I couldn’t concentrate on the words, trying to make a story come to life in the pages. I was too busy wondering what Zander and Shannon were talking about.
I still couldn’t quite believe it. I had a boyfriend. He was cute and sweet and planning something special for my birthday. I squealed in my head and probably would have stood up and done another spin, but Zander strode in and sat down next to me.
“So, any hints?” I asked.
He leaned close to me, his lips almost touching my ear, his warm breath making my insides turn to goo. “No.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting up and laughing. I grinned, my mouth spreading so far across my face it almost hurt. I was so wildly happy.
Chapter Seventeen
Zander
I wanted to celebrate Anya’s birthday in style. I wanted it to be something awesome and memorable, so she’d never forget. When she thought about her eighteenth birthday, I wanted her to smile and think about me.
But considering she wasn’t even allowed to see me, it was going to be difficult to pull off. Thankfully, I was able to enlist Shannon’s help. For the next week and a half, we talked and texted back and forth, planning everything down to the minute.
“That’s going to be perfect, Zander. She’ll love it.”
I hoped she was right. “All right, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks so much for your help.” I was about to hang up when Shannon said my name.
“Zander,” she said again, then paused. I tapped my thumb against the back of my phone, waiting. “Can I ask you something?”
“Um, okay.”
“What have you told other people about you and Anya?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you call her your girlfriend?”
“Of course.” I was taken aback by the question. Nerves twisted in my stomach. “Doesn’t she call me her boyfriend?” Was that something she hid from Shannon even?
“Yes. Yeah, it’s not that,” she said in a rush. “Has anyone met her?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really talk about her to many people. I had told Blake about her, but when I couldn’t get the two of them together to meet, I got nothing but crap about it. Whenever her name came up, Blake laughed and called her my imaginary girlfriend. After that, I kind of just kept it to myself.
“Well, um. No.” Was I keeping her a secret, too? It wasn’t like I’d never told anyone about her. But I hadn’t tried very hard to get Anya to meet anyone. The truth was, I kind of liked keeping her to myself.
“And people don’t find that odd?”
“Yeah,” I finally said. Silence stretched between us. “Why?”
“I’m a little concerned, I guess. I mean, is it really a real relationship if you have to keep it hidden?”
I tried to tell myself there wasn’t anything I could do about it. It wasn’t up to me.
She sighed on the other end of the line. “I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“She won’t,” I said immediately. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Good. Good.” Again she was silent.
“Is that it?”
“For now. I’ll talk to you later, Zander.” The line went dead.
Mine and Anya’s relationship had been sort of our own little secret. This wonderful thing to escape to. Was there something wrong wi
th that? Did keeping it to ourselves make it less real? It was certainly real to me.
Maybe we did need to get out of our own little world, but until Anya was willing to tell her mom about us, I had to settle for what we had. I knew she was scared, but was it of her mother, or of testing our relationship?
I shook my head, trying to shake out all negative thoughts. It was two nights until Anya’s birthday. I could worry about all those other things after it was over. She’d be eighteen then, and I figured her mom would have to yield some on the boyfriend front.
I got up and grabbed Anya’s birthday present out of my closet, wrapping the small green box in pale yellow paper and sticking a white bow on the top. It was kind of crooked, and the paper didn’t exactly lie flat, but it was as good as it was going to get. I tucked it safely back into my closet and climbed into bed. I still had a few more details I needed to finalize the next day; then I had to wait and hope I could pull it all off.
Anya
Dinner was delicious. My mom took us to my favorite Italian restaurant where the maître d’ sang Happy Birthday in Italian in his beautiful baritone. We had tiramisu for dessert, and when I took the first bite, Zander’s face, his eyes wide and mouth clamped shut around his tiramisu cupcake, flew into my head. I had to put my hand over my mouth to hold in the chuckle behind my lips.
My mom gave me an odd look, but I swallowed, smiled, and made a comment about how good the tiramisu was. She didn’t seem to think anything of it.
Having Shannon there was perfect. Each year these birthday dinners had gotten quieter. My mom wasn’t exactly the chatty type, and it had become more and more difficult to carry a conversation by myself. At eight I could talk endlessly about everything and nothing while my mom sat and smiled at me, silently chewing her food. But now…
Shannon filled in every could-have-been-awkward silence with questions or comments about everything from my mom’s job to the décor of the restaurant. The evening flew by, and soon I was back upstairs in my room, dressed in the new pajamas my mom had given me. I sat cross-legged on the bed, hugging my pillow. Shannon was in my over-sized chair, her knees tucked to her chest.
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