Iâm home alone again. Not that that is weird but Iâm actually skipping school. Thatâs the unusual part.
Well, not so much unusual since itâs a tradition, of sorts. You see, itâs my birthday today which makes it the one day a year my parents allow me to skip school and spend it with them. Itâs how we always did it. Always but this year.
This year, when I happily emerged from my room, expecting to see my mom make us pancakes (all part of the birthday ritual), I was met with an empty house. I was surprised enough to have called my dad which turned out to be a great mistake since he was busy at work.
âWhat is it,â he asked. âIâm about to go into a meeting. Why arenât you at school,â he added confused. His harsh tone startled me enough to lie and tell him I was at school and that I had a free period.
I knew then, my parents forgot my birthday.
The sad part is, Iâm not even surprised. I only regret having found out after school has already started since Iâll now be spending all day by myself. Itâs unusual for my parents to forget something though, theyâre usually better at keeping up the façade.
Either way, here I am, opening Instagram because I got a notification. Itâs pathetic how desperate I am for anyone whatsoever to have thought of me even though itâs probably not even a message.
Itâs in fact not a message but a story. I donât usually care but since itâs from Elija, I click on it.
Iâm greeted by a meme, presumably self-made. Itâs a picture of some guy with a highly offended face with the text â
â To which he commented, âYeah, frâ. He even mentioned me!
I nearly squeal. Donât blame me but after the morning Iâve had, this is amazing, no matter how bad the meme is. He wanted to hug me? Is it too late to go to school? I still have thirty minutes until the last period ends.
I decide to simply text him instead.
I hope it doesnât come off as dry but I really donât know how to text someone.
He added a period. Now itâs serious. Also, how does he know me so well even over text, honestly!
This time, Elija takes longer to reply. He keeps typing something only to delete it. Finally, a message comes through.
My heart skips a beat at that. Heâs told his family about me?
Oh well, good enough.
Then I spend the next thirty minutes stressing over what to wear. I got ready this morning since my parents wouldnât allow me to look like a zombie at breakfast but now all my clothes seem inappropriate. Itâs really warm outside so Iâd like to wear a crochet top but most seem too revealing. In the end, I decide to wear my favorite one even though itâs quite short and has a low v. I throw on a thin white jacket which makes the green and pink of the shirt pop more, and pair it up with some light blue jeans. Finishing it off with some gold accessories and my flower converse, I get going.
At school, Elijaâs already waiting for me. He smiles warmly before pulling me into a hug.
âHappy birthday. Welcome to the world of adults,â he says. Iâm too busy inhaling his scent and enjoying the close contact to reply but he doesnât seem to rush me. He just keeps holding me until I pull away.
âReady to go into the lionâs den?â he jokes. I hand him the helmet.
âI hope so. I donât know where you live though so Iâll need directions.â
âOf course.â With that, we get onto my Vespa and take off. Thankfully, the way is rather simple and with Elijaâs help, we get to his home in less than thirty minutes.
Elija heads for the door but I shake out my hair first. It must look all messy after the windâs torture but I try my best to comb it through with my fingers before reattaching my clip. Then I smile at Elija whoâs, as always, staring at me. When I tell him Iâm ready, we enter his home.
The first thing I notice is all the noise. Iâm not used to it since my parents are always quiet but itâs reassuring, somehow. Different from the constant cold and lively instead.
âHome sweet home,â Elija tells me spreading his arms in front of him.
Before I can reply, two weights throw themselves at my legs. I look down to see the twins smiling up.
âFlower girl is here!â
âHappy birthday, Flower girl!â they sing. Theyâre quickly followed by a plump woman with the kindest eyes Iâve ever seen. I canât help but feel welcomed.
âYou must be Florence. Iâm Amelia, itâs nice to finally meet you,â she tells me before pulling me into a hug. Iâm startled by the affectionate greeting but I snap out of it and hug her back. She smells of vanilla and somehow, donât ask me how, home.
âThe pleasureâs all mine,â I tell her. Then she pulls away and hugs her son. Is this what Elija always comes home to? Is that how a mother should greet her child? The thought sends a pang of regret straight to my heart.
âElija, youâre home!â says a deeper voice. I step away as the next person pushes his way up to us. Itâs a bald, tall guy and Iâm guessing itâs Eliâs stepfather. He looks just as sweet as his wife as he welcomes Elija but I notice the shift in his demeanor when he looks at me. His eyes become more guarded and calculating, his smile smaller.
âIâm Robert,â he tells me, holding out his hand for me to shake. I try not to be intimidated and smile at him.
âFlorence. Thank you for having me,â I tell him.
âOf course, Sweetie, and happy birthday,â Amelia says. Somehow, the nickname sounds different coming from her than my own mother. More genuine, maybe.
I thank the woman and follow Eli to his room.
âYou survived the first test with bravour. Honestly, I think your mother loves you more than me already,â Elija tells me as he sits down on his desk chair. Then he tells me to sit down on his bed which I happily do. Even though my brain is in a haze, surrounded by so many new things, I recognize his bed is smaller than mine. Thatâs probably why he isnât on here with me. Stupid gentleman.
His room is exactly what Iâd envisioned it. Itâs mostly black and grey with a few blue accents. There are no clothes strewn across the floor but boxes filled with various things are set in the corners. My auntâs guitar is hanging from his wall right across the bed.
âAre there any more tests?â I ask absently, still taking in the room. Pictures are hung up on a wall along with a few records. It all screams Elija.
âWell, thereâs dinner if youâre up for it,â he tells me. That gets my attention.
âAre you sure it would be okay for me to stay?â I ask while running the scenarios through my head. Would I be able to stomach anything surrounded by so many strangers? Iâve been having a few good days recently so I might. Iâm just scared itâll get worse again. I donât want to come across as impolite because I canât finish my plate.
âOf course, Florence,â Elija assures me.
âAlright, then Iâd like to stay. Thanks,â I tell him. While he puts on music, my eyes go back to the guitar on the wall. I still remember when my aunt used to play for me. I loved her playing almost as much as I loved her voice.
âWho played? I forgot to ask you the last time,â Elija asks.
âMy aunt,â I tell him with a smile. For once, it feels nice to talk about her.