by Anthology
His dad had an amused look on his face as he shook his head. “What did I make you for your birthday last year?”
Brendan thought about it for a few seconds. “Lasagna.”
“And why did I do that?”
The look on my boyfriend’s face said it all. “Because that’s what I asked for.”
“Briana didn’t ask for anything. We invited her over, so I tried to think of something she might like.”
As I looked over all the food on the table—the chicken, fluffy mashed potatoes with brown gravy, bright green beans, and a tossed salad—I felt spoiled, something I rarely had throughout my life. My mother had never made me a meal like this. There was one time when I was four or five when she made cookies for me to take to a school Christmas party, but that was it. “Thank you so much. Everything looks amazing.” I wasn’t kidding. I’d had dinner with them many times in the past but nothing as elaborate as this. I already knew Brendan’s dad was a great cook, and the smells wafting from the table made my stomach growl.
“Well, have a seat.” Logan filled up a plate and then set it in front of me before loading up another plate for his son. Soon, all three of us were enjoying the meal.
I wanted to try the chicken first. After cutting off a small piece, I popped it in my mouth and let the savory flavors immerse my taste buds in ecstasy. “Wow.” I didn’t say anything else, instead scooping up some mashed potatoes and gravy onto my fork.
“I thought you’d like it.”
“I love it.”
“Yeah, it’s really good, dad.”
As I enjoyed the flavor explosion in my mouth, Logan asked Brendan, “Are you all set to leave tomorrow?”
“I think so. I just have to pack my toothbrush and stuff like that tomorrow.”
“Feeling okay about your last year of football?”
“Yeah. I’m excited.”
“What about you, Briana? Are you ready for your last year of school?”
I was. I was ready to be a full-fledged adult, but I knew that it all started with graduation. If I left home now, just because I could, I would be at a disadvantage. Just one more year. I could make it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to my new classes.”
Brendan said, “Dad, you’re giving me cash for camp, right?”
“Yes. And you have your card?”
Father and son continued to talk while I enjoyed the food, and we all chatted throughout the meal. Afterwards, I helped with clean up, but we weren’t done yet. “I hope you have a little room for cake and ice cream,” Logan said.
“Chocolate. Your favorite.” Brendan beamed at me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
I grinned. “There’s always room for chocolate.”
Brendan’s father had gone all out. It was a round two-layer cake with chocolate frosting. While Brendan and I had been talking, he’d unwrapped two candles—a 1 and an 8—and placed them on top.
They—or, Brendan’s dad, rather—had really outdone this celebration. It made me feel special—and loved. “Oh, thank you!”
A warm smile covered Logan’s face. “I didn’t want to risk you not being able to blow out all your candles and two are easier than eighteen. I want your wish to come true.”
If only those blown-candle wishes would come true. I’d take the wishing part more seriously if they did. Instead, I knew it was just a silly tradition. Still, both of them were staring at me, waiting for me to indicate that I was ready. I raised my eyebrows while Logan struck a kitchen match. As the scent of sulfur flooded my nose, I thought about it. If wishes really did come true, what would I ask for?
Love. Security. Happiness. Feeling fulfilled.
With those basic thoughts in mind, I sucked in a long, deep breath, down to the bottom of my lungs, and then blew out those candles.
“You seemed so serious,” Brendan said. “I almost want to ask what you wished for.”
The picket fence. The two beautiful children. A husband who loved and adored me. Oh, and a terrier. But mum was the word.
We ate the ice cream and cake and, when we were done, I asked Brendan’s father, “Did you make the cake, too?”
“I did.”
I thought some of telling my boyfriend how lucky he was to have a parent who spoiled him so much, but Logan was spoiling me today. And I was having too much fun to go and ruin it by mentioning something like that.
Just as I thought things couldn’t get any better, Brendan slid a card across the table toward me. “Open it.”
I smiled. This felt serious. So I did. The pink envelope tore easily. Inside was a glittery card with sweet sentiments, but what meant the most was how Brendan had written at the bottom, Love you. Your Bren. And there was a gift card to my favorite clothing store downtown. It was a local shop and I always liked to browse, but I’d never been able to buy more there than a pair of earrings. Brendan knew that—and the gift card for one hundred dollars floored me.
“Brendan, you didn’t need to do that.”
“It’s from me and dad.”
“Thank you so much, but—”
“Don’t you dare say we shouldn’t have, Briana. You only turn eighteen once. Enjoy.”
After we finished eating cake and loaded the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher, I said to Brendan, “I should probably head home so you can finish packing.”
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Thank you so much for dinner and the cake, Mr. B—I mean, Logan.”
“You’re very welcome, Briana. It was my pleasure.” We exchanged a smile as Brendan walked me to the front of the house.
Once again, I gave him a long sweet kiss and, in the middle of it, I thought maybe I should have wished for Brendan to feel ready to have sex with me. Instead, I’d wasted my wish on a dream that would no doubt happen but was too far away to appreciate.
“I’m gonna walk you home, Bree. It’s dark out now.”
“I’ll be fine, Brendan.” I only lived two blocks away and, while I hated the idea of walking from downtown to home, walking through my neighborhood didn’t bother me in the least. After all, I’d been doing it my whole life.
“Nah. Let me just tell dad.” As he started to turn, though, Logan appeared behind him as if on cue.
“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again, Briana. We’re honored that you spent it with us.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it anywhere else.”
And then, the weirdest, most unexpected thing happened. Mr. Brown—Logan, that is—pulled me into an embrace, hugging me close. That in and of itself wasn’t so strange, but he seemed to hold me for a long time as his hands were smoothing my back.
When he finally let go, I glanced at Brendan. He didn’t give me or his dad any kind of odd look, so it must have just been in my imagination. When we said our final goodbyes, though, Logan gave me a quick wink, too.
I tried to tell myself it was all in my head…but something told me it wasn’t.
CHAPTER TWO
“It’s all good. They just want to make sure we’re in tiptop shape for the season. If we eat, drink, and live football, we can’t help but be prepared. And we want to win State this year.”
“You will.”
“How’re things going there, Bree?”
Brendan had been at camp for just a day but I already missed him. “Nothing to report really. Haven’t seen mom since Friday. Oh, but Chelsea’s coming over in a little bit.” Chelsea was my best friend and had been since our freshman year. No one knew me like that girl. “When are you guys coming back?”
“A week before school starts.”
Before speaking again, I looked at my reflection in the mirror over my dresser, wondering what I’d have to do to make myself seem irresistible to Brendan. He’d obviously been attracted to me when he’d first asked me out, right? I wasn’t an ugly girl, either. Maybe not gorgeous, but not hideous. I thought I was pretty enough—my long brown hair was shiny and silky; I knew how to emphasize my green eyes with the right
makeup; my pale skin browned easily enough in the sun, something I thought Brendan would appreciate, because sports kept him outside and constantly tan. I was shorter than a lot of girls in my class, so there were no height issues making him feel weird. He seemed pretty tall compared to me. And even though I was thin, I had nice enough breasts. What was wrong with me that my boyfriend shied away? But a phone call with miles and miles between us wasn’t the right time to discuss our lack of a deeper relationship. It would have to wait until he returned. “I miss you already.”
“Miss you, too.”
There really wasn’t anything to talk about, because I’d just seen him before he left, so we said our goodbyes and our I love yous and hung up, promising to at least text each other if not talk over the next two weeks until he returned.
I still had a while before Chelsea would get there, so I made a sandwich and then sat at my laptop looking over my class schedule for the first semester of my senior year. Thinking about all the classes I’d taken and the things I was interested in didn’t give me any ideas about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I only knew I was ready to begin.
My mother didn’t really care one way or another. She didn’t give a crap if I decided to go to college or just started working somewhere. In fact, I was pretty sure my mom wouldn’t even care if I became a stripper.
God, I missed my grandpa. He’d passed away just after I finished seventh grade. One morning, he’d had a massive heart attack as he was walking out the door to go to coffee with his buddies at the café on Main Street. Just dropped. One of his neighbors had seen it—but grandpa was gone by the time the ambulance got there. Not only had he been a source of love and joy in my life, but he’d seemed to help my mom stay grounded and focused. When he died, that was when everything had kind of fallen apart, and now was my new normal.
I really needed to figure out what I was going to do with my life, because I had no clue. The only thing I felt certain about in regard to my future was Brendan. I knew that wasn’t healthy, though. I needed to figure out something for me—so talking to my counselor as soon as school started was important.
Chelsea arrived at my house an hour later. She’d been my anchor for so long that I didn’t know how I could ever function without her. “Girl!” she said as I opened the door for her. “Why aren’t you ready?”
I laughed. “Ready for what?”
“You’re not even in your bikini or anything.”
“Neither are you.”
“I had to drive over here. The last thing I want is some cop pulling me over for speeding and getting all creepy over seeing me in almost nothing.” Chelsea had a nice body, but what drew boys to her was her fiery red hair. She’d always told me kids had made fun of her in elementary school, calling her carrot top and slice (as in orange), but by high school, that childishness had stopped. It took her a bit of an adjustment to realize her hair was an asset. Unlike her mother, also a redhead, Chelsea wasn’t covered in freckles, and I was pretty sure that was because of her dad, a guy with a lot of native American blood. My best friend looked exotic and gorgeous, from her pale blue eyes to her tall but curvy frame. No one else on the planet looked like my bestie—and she drew boys to her like a fan sucks air through its blades. The boys seemed destined to get drawn into her orbit.
I might have been jealous if not for Brendan. But because I had my own boyfriend (and had been with him for two years while Chelsea had dated lots of different guys), I was not only content but happy to celebrate my dear friend’s successes with the opposite sex.
Soon, she and I were out in my backyard, lying on the cheapie plastic chaise lounge chairs my mom had inherited from grandpa. The sun felt warm on my legs and I loved the coconut smell wafting from the suntan lotion on my skin.
“So,” said Chelsea, sitting up and taking a sip from her water bottle, “do you remember Seth Evans?”
“Yeah, how could I forget? He was on the football team.”
“Oh, yeah.” Chelsea laid back down and closed her eyes. “He asked me out on a date.”
“I thought he was going to college now.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t leave for another couple of weeks.”
I sat up then, curious. Seth was a gorgeous guy. All the girls had drooled over him but, word was, he was a player and a heartbreaker. While I liked that Chelsea had a slightly older—and hot—guy interested in her, I was worried. “How’d you even hook up?”
“Facebook.”
“So are you going?”
Chelsea opened her eyes, glancing sideways at me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Um…because he’s leaving soon. Because he’ll break your heart.” I tried to think of what other words might convince her. “Because you deserve better.”
Chelsea sat up again, giggling. “God, you’re being so serious, Bree. I just want to have a little fun before school starts again. It’s just a fling.”
I relaxed a little. “Okay.”
“So help me decide what to wear.”
“When are you going?”
She practically squealed. “Tonight. To the movies!”
Smiling, I said, “I hope you have fun.”
“You know I will. So what do you think I should wear?”
“Hmm. Do you want to look cute or sexy?”
“Both!”
If anyone could pull off a combination of the two, it was Chelsea. “Then maybe you should wear that miniskirt you bought in May. You know, the—”
“—frilly pink one. Yeah. If my dad’ll let me.”
“You’ve worn it before, haven’t you?”
“Well, yeah…”
“Just don’t act slutty and you should be fine.”
“Bree!”
I giggled and adjusted my chair so I could lie on my back. “And you should wear that black tank top with it.”
“Ooh, yeah.” She decided to roll over too and, when she was done, she said, “What about nail polish?”
I lifted my head and glanced at her hands. “They look fine now.”
“But they’re red. I’d rather do something like white or pink to match what I’m wearing.”
“Pink maybe?”
“Fuchsia or light pink?”
“Umm…maybe fuchsia. It goes better with your hair.”
“Maybe…”
I knew Chelsea. She’d probably change her mind half a dozen times before finally settling, but I’d given her food for thought, which was all she really needed. We got quiet again and my mind focused on the sound of the kids playing next door, squealing, laughing, talking, and occasionally bickering. I’d almost drifted off when my cell phone, staying shaded underneath my lounge, started ringing.
It was coming from Brendan’s landline. I was confused at first—until I realized who must be calling me. I hadn’t known Mr. Brown—Logan—knew my number.
And why was I feeling all excited? Like seriously excited. Tingling finger excited.
Unless, of course, he’d accidentally dialed it. Maybe I was on speed dial. No sense getting all eager over a molehill, right?
“Are you gonna answer that?”
I glanced over at Chelsea’s raised head and nodded while swiping and lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Briana?” I loved the way he said my name. It wasn’t the casual Bree like all my friends called me. Somehow my name sounded more sophisticated on his tongue.
I had to remind myself to stay calm. “Yes?”
“I’m not bothering you, am I?”
“No. I’m just sunbathing with Chelsea.”
“I wondered if you’d mind coming over tonight. I wanted to throw Brendan a big birthday party next month for his eighteenth and would love your help. If you don’t mind, of course.”
I knew he wasn’t asking for anything strange or out of the ordinary, but I still felt a small thrill. It was oh, so wrong, but that one little over-long hug had put my emotions—and hormones—into overdrive. “Of course. What time?”
&nbs
p; “How about seven?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
Chelsea must have sensed something was up, because she said, “Oh, my. Looks like I’m not the only one going on a date tonight.”
Hoping my acting was above par, I shook my head while placing my phone back under the lounge. “I wish. Brendan’s at camp, remember? It’s his dad. He wants to plan a big surprise birthday party for him.”
“Ooh. We’re becoming real adults, Bree, one birthday at a time.”
“Yeah,” I said, lying on my back again and wondering if I knew how to act like one.
A few hours later, Chelsea was heading home and I was looking in my closet, trying to decide what to wear. At the same time, I was questioning my sanity. If ever there was a time I needed my mother, this was it—but I had no idea when she’d breeze back through the front door.
Not that she’d do any good.
So I settled on the pink and blue checkered shorts and pink baby-doll t-shirt before jumping in the shower. I loved the smell of the coconut lotion, but I’d been in the hot sun and wanted to feel fresh.
That was my rationale anyway.
I left the house at a quarter till seven, giving me plenty of time to get to Brendan’s house. Technically, Logan’s house. And I wondered if it would always feel weird to call him by his first name.
My whole body was buzzing, alive with anticipation. So stupid. I shouldn’t have been thrilled to think that there was any possibility that my boyfriend’s dad had noticed me.
Poor Brendan.
And yet I practically skipped to their house with abandon.
When I got there just a couple of minutes before seven, Logan answered the door and said, “I probably should have picked you up like Brendan does.”
“No biggie. It’s not that far.”
Closing the door behind me, he asked, “Have you eaten dinner?”
It had just been ramen, but “Yes.”
As we neared the kitchen, I could smell delicious aromas, reaffirming that Logan was an amazing cook. “Did you eat dessert?”
“No.”
“Well, lucky you. If you’re game, I made a banana cream pie yesterday. I was craving one and needed to use up the bananas—but I can’t eat the whole thing by myself and Brendan’s not here to help me demolish it. Would you like a slice while we talk about the birthday party?”