Chapter 54: Breakaway: Chapter 54

“WAIT, so your birthdays literally have names?”

Izzy freezes in the middle of the aisle once again, forcing me to stop short to avoid bumping into her. We’ve been in this party store in a random strip mall for almost an hour already, gathering decorations for Cooper’s birthday party, and I love Izzy, but she’s so freaking slow when it comes to shopping. She nods. “Yeah. Izzy Day, which is the best day, obviously. But also James Day, Sebastian Day, and Cooper Day.”

She dumps a bunch of neon shot glasses into the cart. I eye them dubiously. “Can we buy these if we’re not twenty-one?”

She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re buying the alcohol. That’s Seb’s job.”

I don’t think Sebastian is twenty-one yet, but I don’t bother asking about it. His fake is probably top-notch. “Is he actually making a signature cocktail?”

“The slap shot.” Izzy grins. “I’m going to get so fucked up, I can’t wait.”

“Like at the Haverhill party?”

She pokes around the shelves with a little huff. “That was first semester Izzy. Second semester Izzy has more class.”

“Is the class the talking in the third person?”

She puts three different ‘Happy Birthday’ banners into the cart. “God, I love that you’re dating Cooper. Please tell me you rag on him just as much. He needs someone to take him down a couple hundred pegs.”

“Probably more,” I admit. “It’s just so easy.”

“You have to come with us to the Outer Banks this summer.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, smiling. It’s nice to think of us being together that far into the future and being serious enough that I’m invited on the family vacation. I’ve never been to the Outer Banks—actually, I’ve never been to the beach, period—and I like the thought of a shirtless Cooper in board shorts. “I guess I’ll have to hope he invites me.”

“Oh, he will.” Izzy reaches up on her tiptoes to grab some blue plastic tablecloths. “He’s in love with you.”

I freeze. I think I might shut down for a moment, because Izzy says something else, but I don’t hear her. She throws the tablecloths into the cart and waves her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Penny.”

I blink, shaking my head slightly. “Sorry.”

“Did he not say it yet?” She cocks her head to the side. “Weird. Because he totally is.”

Then she turns the corner into the next aisle like she didn’t just rock my fucking world.

It’s not that it’s a surprise. I’m not an idiot, I know Cooper cares for me. A lot. But caring for someone you’re dating and loving them are two different things entirely, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Since I was sixteen, I’ve operated on a general principle: other girls get love, but not me. Not romantically, at least. I can have friends, and I have my dad, but a boyfriend? A boyfriend who loves me for me? I had one of those, or at least I thought I did, and then he ruined my life.

Cooper isn’t anything like Preston. I know this. And yet, I’m having a hard time remembering that right now.

I look down at my hands. They’re shaking. They never used to shake, but now, when it happens out of the blue like this, it means nothing good. I swallow. My mouth feels fuzzy, like I just ate a bunch of cotton balls. I struggle to remember my breathing exercises. Things have been so good. My meds have been working. My coping skills have been effective. Therapy twice a month has been enough. My life has finally felt like mine, and one I don’t have to apologize for. Cooper hasn’t pushed to hear about my past, even if he’s within his rights to, and in the process, I convinced myself that it could fade away completely.

I should have known I can’t outrun my memories. Not when they have teeth. Not when they lurk at the edges of my mind, ready to catch me when I stumble, especially every late February.

Why does Cooper’s birthday have to be on February 18th? Out of every day in the month, in the entire year?

“Penny!” Izzy calls. I hear her distantly, like she’s yelling at me from across a football field. I take a step forward and nearly stumble.

Every time Cooper and I have crossed something off The List, it’s been a fuck-you to the memory of what happened. Now that we’ve done all but the last item—the big one, the one that feels like an “I love you” if there ever was one—I thought I was finally getting somewhere. That I’d live my own life on February 18th without feeling an ounce of shame or panic, and I’d enjoy my boyfriend’s twenty-first birthday, and when all the guests left, I’d lead him to bed and finally erase the horrible moment when I realized Preston told me he loved me just so he could press record on his phone.

Now, pushing the cart into the next aisle feels almost impossible. The rest? Laughable.

“HE’S ON HIS WAY!” Sebastian calls. “Everyone be quiet!”

I dim the lights; across the room, he gives me a thumbs up as he turns down the music. I’ve never thrown a surprise party, but once I had some time to get my head on straight this afternoon, it was fun to set up. James, now finished with the football season and on vacation, took Cooper out for the day, and meanwhile, we decorated the house, set up a full bar, and welcomed all his teammates and friends from the English department to the house. Tangerine was supremely unhappy with all the commotion, so we shut her in Izzy’s room with her toys and her favorite cat tower. I tried Seb’s slap shot earlier, and it’s exactly the sort of drink Cooper will love, a version of a whiskey smash, but with cherry and lime. I don’t think it would be a good idea to drink tonight, but I hope Cooper enjoys himself. He deserves it, especially with a dwindling number of games in the regular season to stay focused on otherwise.

The front door opens, and Cooper walks through first. “Well, he’s been good to me,” he’s saying, but the sentence dies as James turns on the lights and we all start cheering. He stands frozen for a moment—he really is surprised, which is adorable and makes my heart race in the best way—but then he laughs. “No fucking way!”

“Happy Birthday!” Sebastian shouts. “Drinks on you next time we’re at Red’s, you old bastard. Now let’s fucking party!”

He turns up the volume on the music, sending Nirvana through the speakers. Evan put together a playlist of Cooper’s favorite songs. I snuck a couple of the ones I’ve gotten him to enjoy lately, namely by my eternal favorites, Taylor Swift and Harry Styles.

Cooper pulls me into his arms and spins me around; he’s got a hand low on my back and the other on my bottom, a possessive grip that only gets more wonderful when he kisses me hard right up against the now-shut front door. I take a deep breath, enjoying his scent and the chill of the night air hanging around him. I missed him today, and when things went sideways for a moment, I wished I could have talked to him. I wasn’t about to ruin his birthday, though, and it’s for the best. I just need to stay in the moment. A shitty house party at Jordan Feinstein’s back when I thought sneaking a beer was scandalous has nothing on a surprise birthday party for my boyfriend.

I smile as his lips move against mine. “Happy Birthday, babe.”

“Did you do all this?” he asks as he glances around the room. We moved the furniture to the walls to make room for a dance floor, and thanks to all the decorations Izzy and I got earlier, the whole thing is decked out in blue-and-silver balloons and streamers. Instead of a cake, we opted for cupcakes in different flavors from the bakery in town, frosted purple and white with little edible swords stuck down the middle. Sebastian and James are planning to man the bar in the kitchen, Bex has a film camera to take pictures, and we even have a fire pit going in the back for anyone who wants a break from the inside but doesn’t want to freeze their ass off. Throw in the beer pong and darts tournaments his teammates are planning, and it ought to be Cooper’s favorite type of party.

“It was Izzy’s idea,” I admit. “For your Cooper Day. But Sebastian and I helped plan it. Bex too, and Evan and Remmy and Mia, and James helped keep you away for the day.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “So basically everyone. This is incredible, Red. Thank you.”

I beam at him. “How does it feel to get to throw out the fake IDs?”

“Like I’m a new man.” He hugs me closer, putting his chin on top of my head and swaying us to the sound of Kurt Cobain’s voice. I listen as he greets someone, accepting birthday wishes. I press my face against his throat and ignore whoever they are.

He strokes his hand through my hair. I have it half up, half down, specifically because the other day while we were playing Super Smash Bros, he glanced over mid-race and said, “You look goddam gorgeous when your hair is like that.”

My mid-thigh, long-sleeved, baby doll-blue velvet dress has a plunge neckline I can get away with braless, making even my practically non-existent boob situation look enticing. I’m wearing the thigh-high boots that he loves and a scrap of lacy panties with tights that I am actively hoping he’ll rip, and in my purse, I have something ridiculous that will help to cross out the only other item on the list besides vaginal sex—roleplaying—and I know he’ll be into it. I’ve seen how he looks at Arwen enough times to get the hint that elf ears are a turn-on for him, and since he’s been good-natured about a version of him starring as a werewolf in the book I’m writing, I can do this. The sillier I can keep things, the looser and more relaxed I’ll feel, and I’ll need all the help I can get later.

Eventually, we break away from each other. He holds onto my hand as we weave through the party. Sebastian makes him a slap shot, and I snag a hard seltzer for myself before we meld into a group of his teammates, already engrossed in a game of darts. I chat with Evan, Victoria, and Mia while Cooper plays and wins the first game, because apparently his general athleticism applies to anything he tries. It’s also fucking sexy to watch, a fact that Victoria teases me about when it’s clear I’m not concealing my blush all that well. While he’s getting set up for another round, he tilts his head back for a kiss, and it takes every ounce of effort I have not to drag him upstairs right this second.

“Want to play?” he asks. “Next game?”

“I don’t think I’ll be good at it.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not good at things that involve… whatever this involves.”

“Hand-eye-coordination,” Mia supplies. She quirks up her lips, matte black and as neat as her winged eyeliner, and raises her glass to me. She’s wearing black skinny jeans, heels that I’d break an ankle in, and a halter top that she somehow pulls off despite the highlighter shade of green; people have been staring at her since the moment the party got going. She’ll have her pick at the end of the night, and I’m sure that’ll leave a trail of broken hearts. “You can do a lot more with your feet.”

“That’s what she said,” Izzy says slyly as she glides by. She’s wearing a silver mini dress with white leather boots and plenty of glittery makeup. When Sebastian saw her, he joked that she looked like a go-go dancer, and honestly, the comparison is apt. She did her hair in the bathroom while Mia helped me with my makeup, and now it hangs around her face in big, soft curls. Too bad that if any guy even thinks about staring at her, he’ll get the attention—and not the good kind—of three older brothers. Compared to her and Mia, I feel like a kid playing dress-up.

I reach out and grab Izzy’s hand. “Iz, this looks amazing.”

She beams. “Maybe I should become a party planner.”

“You really could,” Mia says. She gestures at the space with her drink, already down to just the ice. It feels more crowded than before, somehow. I wonder when all these people arrived, and if Cooper knows them all, or if they just heard there was a party at the Callahans’, which never happens, and swung by. It makes my skin itch, the thought of random strangers just showing up. “The thought of being in charge of arranging something like this makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a dart, but you’d be good at it.”

“Mood,” Victoria agrees, accepting another drink from Remmy when he comes around with a cocktail for her and a beer for him. He kisses her lightly on the lips, which makes me smile. “But you’re fantastic.”

“And a little terrifying,” Sebastian adds, right on Remmy’s heels with a beer in one hand and a cocktail in the other. “I bought the wrong salsa, and I had to go back to the store.”

He hands the cocktail to Mia, who looks at it with a singular arched brow before trading him her empty glass for the full one. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be my personal bartender.”

Sebastian takes a long sip of beer before answering, “Darling, you ought to know by now that I stick to my word.”

Cooper and I glance at each other. Mia and Sebastian are both flirtatious by nature, but honestly, I don’t even think Mia likes him all that much. Then again, Mia doesn’t like many people, so that’s not generally a good way to measure her interest in someone.

“I didn’t even know there was a wrong kind of salsa,” Cooper says. “That sounds fake.”

Izzy huffs out a breath. “I give you the best Cooper Day since the Rangers meet and greet, and these are the thanks I get?”

He laughs, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, Iz. You’re the best little sister a guy could ask for.”

“Don’t touch the hair,” she grumbles, but I catch sight of her smile. Not for the first time, I wonder what it must be like to be her. She’s so glamorous, but she’s willing to get down and dirty for volleyball, and growing up with three overprotective jocks for older brothers? It sounds so foreign to me I can hardly imagine it. “We’re singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in an hour.”

Cooper groans. “And leave me to stand around awkwardly while you do?”

“It’ll be fun,” she says. “Right, Penny?”

I shrug, blinking at Cooper innocently. “It is a birthday party.”

“I should have known that you and Izzy would be an awful combination,” he grouses. “I regret pushing you to be friends.”

I just reach up and kiss his cheek. “Show me how to play darts.”