6. 'The Big 18'. There's Only One Place I Want to Spend it.

Steve offered to walk me home the next day, which was weird, so I responded sensibly with, “Uh, no thanks.”

And he slung his arm around my shoulders, ignoring my refusal and steering me forward out the bus doors. “Come on, man. It’s your birthday.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I mutter. “This is getting kind of…” Creepy, uncomfortable.

Though the truly uncomfortable reality is how I spent the entirety of last night, and today, questioning seriously why I told Luc I was underage. I was only a few hours away from eighteen last night, not that I ever would have committed to a three way to celebrate that! I just kept thinking of that look in his eyes, and that hand on my back, his breath warm against my cheek… I spent the entire day sketching absentminded doodles of his eyes, and mouth, instead of focusing on my classes. At least Heather didn’t lean in to check what I was working on. I would have been too paranoid to draw if she was in class today, but she’s still suspended, not coming back until next week. Steve never bothers to dig through my notebook or spy over my shoulder at least, not even during our shared bus ride. But we never walk home together either. He lives in the opposite direction, blocks away. Now with all the casual touching, leading me forward… I’m tense as a wooden board, just about ready to bolt.

“Okay, what is going on? And why are we walking so fast?”

“Man, I’m not supposed to say anything,” Steve insists, pushing me up the front steps to my house. “But okay, fine. Your mom’s throwing you a surprise party. Surprise!”

The door is already opening, revealing cheap plastic banners, streamers, a pizza, cake, and the absolute worst part – Heather. She is inside my house, standing right beside my smiling mother who is still treating me like I am 12 years old with her cheery, “Surprise!” She toots a paper party horn. Even at 12 I would have hated being caught off guard like this, made the center of all attention. I try not to celebrate my birthday at all, but mom always insists it be made into an overblown affair. I never even told any of my classmates here in LA that it was my birthday. I assumed Steve had found out from his mom, who would have heard it straight from the mouth of my oversharing mother, but now Heather is here as well…

“Cheer up, birthday boy,” Heather teases, crossing into the entryway and taking my hands. “You gotta smile for the camera.” She points smugly to my mom, lowering the cheap Kodak camera with which she’s already snapped a picture of my mortified expression. “Your mom even got us those little paper hats,” Heather can’t hold in her snicker at that. I literally want to die.

“Sweetie…” Mom finally clues into my not-at-all pleasant shock. “Don’t you like it? It’s just, we’ve been so busy these past few months with the move and the new job. But 18 is a big one so… I guess I should have asked who else you wanted on the guest list. I know four people isn’t much of a party but… Your dad will be home soon!”

Great. “Thanks, mom,” I force out. “This is really… nice of you. So how long have you and Heather been… talking?”

“Well I found out about her suspension from Liz,” her church friend.

“Yeah, thanks for mentioning that. Again,” Heather sarcastically praises with forced smile still in place. “Your mom really wanted to talk to me anyhow, and she figured you’d want me at your party. Imagine my shock, because I didn’t even know it was your f-- fudging birthday,” she censors herself, squeezing all the tighter at my hand. “So yeah, I didn’t even get you a present. But your mom’s been… nice.” Shit. I can’t believe she’d do this. I cannot believe…

“I need to sit down.” I make my way over to the table, and mom serves me a slice of pizza, giddy smile finally slipped into a furrowed brow of motherly concern.

“You really don’t like it? I went to your favorite pizza place, the one your dad found when we first moved and--”

“It’s fine, mom,” I whisper. “I just… don’t like surprises.” As she should absolutely know.

“Heather seems like a nice girl. You should have brought her over weeks ago. I get that the suspension wasn’t her fault. This Bradley sounds like a real jerk, and I’m glad you have someone who stands up for you, Julian. But you should have told me you were getting bullied--”

“Can we not talk about this now?” I mutter, and mercifully, she drops it. I suffer through the rest of that awkward, mostly silent dinner. Dad gets home just as it’s time to cut the cake, giving me a cold, “Happy birthday, son. Your mother and I were thinking about getting you a car.” My eyes light up. “Wasn’t in the budget though.”

My hope deflates. They added another deposit into my college fund instead. “Uh… thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now get me a beer from the fridge. You can have one too.”

“Rodger!” mom protests. “The legal drinking age--”

“Lighten up, Gale.” They get into it with escalating snipes of issues bottled up for weeks. I shoot Heather a look and start edging toward the door.

She nudges Steve in the same direction and calls out the genius suggestion, “Jeez. We are out of Coke. Why don’t we three go grab some more from the corner store. Then we can maybe spend the rest of the night at Steve’s?”

“That would be…” Mom breaks away from glaring at my dad, and looks to me unhappily. “Alright. Happy Birthday, sweetie.”

“Thanks.” Now please never call me sweetie again, especially not in front of Heather. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t act like this is my fault,” my dad thunders. “Why are you bringing up this crap in front of guests…?”

Their words trail off as we hurry out the door, starting out into the darkening streets. “Your parents are… wow.” Steve comments.

“They weren’t always like that. Let’s just… never mention it again. Alright?”

“You should meet my mom,” Heather offers, slinging her arm around my neck. “It might make you feel better. But shit, how ever will we contact her? She hasn’t called me since she ran off to Europe after the divorce. Didn’t even send me a happy birthday card last year.”

“Yeah?” Steve seems eager to compete in the horrible parents brag-athon. “Well my mom makes me sing in church choir so… I win. It’s way more embarrassing than a surprise party, trust me.”

I can’t cheer up, no matter their many attempts, so we head down to the liquor store and Heather uses her fake ID to buy us some hard stuff.

“The Lizard is going to kill me,” Steve keeps worrying, as we’re waiting outside in the parking lot. That's his nickname for his mother, Liz, since she does this whole 'dead-eyed intimidation' thing apparently. “Can’t they like smell it on your breath when you…?”

“You’ve really never had a drink before?” I can’t believe I’m the rebel in our friendship. Though… I’d never had a drink either, not before I stepped into Luc’s nightclub. “You know where I really want to spend ‘the big 18’?” I confess to Steve.

“Not at my house?” he fills in dryly.

“You ever heard of Club Noctus?”

“You a regular there?!” A group of older guys call out from the doors of the liquor store, seeming to have overheard us. “Think I’ve seen you there before.”

I do not like the look in his eyes. He’s pale and tall and stalking right up to us with his two brawny friends in tow. They have the most piercing, unnerving eyes, and I could have sworn they flash red, as he reaches out before I can get out a word and puts his hand right on my throat.