27

I tried to not think of Mum as I kept slurping Coke after Coke. It tasted so lovely, because I haven't drunk any for a very long time. I held it away for a good 5 seconds, and wondered since when Diet Coke existed. That's a new one.
I let out a deafening exhale, and turned to Bebe and Dame, who were now playing cards in the tent. With cake slit everywhere of their bodies, in their hair too. I laughed silently, grateful that I had these friends. "So," I cut in the game, "what's this all about?"
Both of them stopped mid-way, and stared at me in shock. I automatically looked back, afraid that something was lurking behind me, heck knows what.
"What?!" I whispered, "what!?"
"What do you mean, what's this all about?"
Have I blurted something wrong out? I checked my sentence in my head again, no, I didn't insult anyone. Didn't do anything. So I answered her, "Yeah, the cake and all. It's the welcome, right?"
They shook their heads slowly, looking at each other with locked eyes, as if they were too tensed. Or disbelief, maybe. I nudged Dame, "Come on, tell me!"
"Winnie, think about it."
We were in the same tent, and honestly, it was getting hot in here. So mushy, too uncomfortable. Definitely not a place to think. What day was it? Saturday the 15th. I ran through my thoughts, why did it sound so boilingly familiar?
15th.
But I couldn't remember anything. And out of the blues, I gasped. "Oh my gosh, did someone die?"
It was a few seconds of silence, and the whole atmosphere filled with their laughter. They've been laughing a lot tonight, not filling me in on anything. I don't see anything funny.
"What's so funny!?" I was getting annoyed, climbing to my feet. It was getting really hot, and the tent smelled of rotten cake with mice around. Eww. Not that I've smelled mice before, but, it just smelled like cheese gag. If mice even gag, that is.
"Oh my dear!" Bebe shouted, "It's your birthday!"
*
My birthday?
"Since when!?"
"Since you were born on the 15th?" Dame answered, his tone serious now. He probably thought I had lost a screw in my head or something. And click, it pulled together. The puzzle, the other side of something, snapped shut. It was my birthday. My 14th. And I had no memory of it. How could I ever be so oblivious as to forgetting my birthday? Okay, someone's anniversary, maybe. But my birthday?!
"Whoaaaaa," Bebe added, "what's with you tonight?"
"I don't know." I answered truthfully. It was quiet for a while, and I started laughing. It seemed funny now. Funny that I'd know I'd keep this wacky little memory in my life forever, and I'd share it with my grandchildren, my grand-grandchildren and if I ever lived that long, I would -
"Okay, hello?? Earth to Winnie."
I flicked my eyes open, and Dame and Cece were furiously snapping at me. I smiled an easy smile, and put their hands down. "I'm alive."
Like it was so unexpected, Cece pulled me out of the tent, and Dame trotted behind. He was still cleaning himself from the cake mess, ruffing his hair like a sad little puppy. We walked up into Cece's room, and as we walked inside, the most barefaced items were the multi-coloured boxes. They were stacked on on top of another. I didn't know how to react, because there were almost ten of them. All wrapped in different papers, all of them had bold letters in front, almost audibly shouting, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IDIOT!" at me. I smirked a little. Presents.
"Come on," Bebe ignored me, and pulled me to sit on her bed. Dame sat beside us too, but Bebe shooed him off.
"You're dirty! Very dirty. Go clean yourself up." she ordered, and Dame obediently went into the bathroom. He didn't take long like we supposed he would, he was presumely, excited about the gifts as he think I would be. Though only I knew that I wasn't that joyous about it.
I had presents-phobia. I could laugh at myself about the idiocy, but really, if you come to think of it, someone might shove in a small bomb and if, unluckily, you touched it or set it on by accident, then, bye bye.
I know, I know. That wasn't technically feasible. But it was SENSIBLY pausible. Cece continued plucking the wrapping papers off, muttering how annoying people are to wrap them up so tightly when they knew that it was going to be opened up anyway.
"Har-har," I said, as she tried to fumble with the tape on a pink wrapped-up box. It probably wasn't a square shaped item, considering that there were hollow ends appearing here and there. Irregular shape, I smiled. "Try explaining that big junk there." I pointed to a place where this as-tall-as-a-hamper present, covered with some shiny paper up to down, allowing no peeks or whatsoever. I silently grumbled, this is going to KILL my suspense nerve. Bebe slowly turned towards me from looking at, likely her present, and tried to cover her blush.
"Well, I'm different!" She tried to reason.
"Yeah, very." Both Dame and I said together, and we laughed again. It took a very long time to unwrapped the presents. There were iPods from my two very good friends at my previous school, one brand new swanky watch, and a few storybooks, with Famous Amos -that was the one that had the irregular shape- cookies. To top it all of, Dame gave me a peck on my cheek - it wasn't at ALL romantic, it was just the way he was covering up his mistake that he didn't get me anything - and Bebe's notoriously colossal friendship card with more girlier stuffs. Want a hint?
Girly watches, for both her and I. Girly feathers, for my pen. Girly anklets, acting as the body of our 'fusion', as she'd like to call it. I prefer the simple, old-fashioned word, FRIENDSHIP.
She had also bought me some real expensive Belgium chocolate, which she shouldn't have, because she knows better than anyone does that I'd gubble it in one day.
"T-thanks," I managed, I felt guilty for not loving it. Just liking it. She gave me a hug, and I responded back. Dame left after a while, after receiving a call from his always-freaked-out-mum and had a big lecture on how irresponsible he is, always staying late at someone's house. He tried to tell his mum it was his friend's birthday, but she told him to 'if you wanna lie, give me a better excuse.'
Yeah, what a mum. So we had to bid farewell, and I promised him we'd go out sometime, before he goes insane. And he beamed that it made me happy. And he left. And before we realized, Bebe was trying to pry out everything from where we've left, and vice versa.
It had turned from a bad-ditched-out night, to, I couldn't find any words to describe it. I'll try, to this awesomely, amusing, joyous, fun, whacked up, absurd and jolly evening. I looked deeply into Bebe's shallow eyes. It wasn't deep tonight, it was, incomprehensibly shallow. She was keeping something away from me.
But I didn't let it get to me, because then, she'd told me a story about this guy at school. I was literally drooling over that description of how he looked from Bebe. It was hard to think that Bebe could ever thought of someone like that considering she said almost the similar things about BEN. Remember him?
We caught her confessing about how hot he is on tape?
Turned out he's just a small kid with a big body after all.
He still uses the sentence, "I don't friend you."
THAT young he is.
Something burned in my heart, the belonging an curiousity seeped through me again as she sighed about how godly he looked. What was she keeping away from me.
I need to know. And as I scanned around the room for nothing, I spied two tickets on top of her dresser.
What's going on?