Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Julius reminded. “It’s ten at night. What time are we expected to eat?”
“Maybe something's wrong. I mean, she’s not answering her phone, and that’s not like her.”
Julius nodded. “That’s the definition of her.”
“She’s never not answered me.”
“You’ve only known her a minute,” Julius scoffed. “But I knew it wouldn’t take long for her to show you her true colors.”
“Well, I’m not giving up on her so easily. I think there’s something wrong.”
“Isla—”
“Julius, just let her be. It’s her birthday, alright?”
He reluctantly let it go, but not before he added, “How about we at least sing you ‘Happy Birthday,’ and you can open up our gifts?”
“No,” I softly spoke. “We can wait for her.”
It was my big one-eight. I’d been looking forward to becoming a legal adult for as long as I could remember. Now the day was finally here, and we were in the living room, waiting for Melody. My emotions were all over the place. I refused to believe she was standing me up.
The clock on the wall ticked, though.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock…
Every second that flew by mirrored the beating of my heart, pounding its way out of my chest. The candles burning around us tested my patience, too. Julius pretended he was scrolling his phone while Kraven did the same, each on opposite ends of the couch, me in the middle like always.
The living room felt smaller than usual, the walls caving in on me, starting to feel like a damn fool. Balloons were scattered around, and a cake was waiting in the fridge. All of it was just making a mockery of the evening that I had so much hope for.
Julius’s jaw clenched every time I saw him glancing at the door from the corner of my eye. I kept picturing her coming through the door with flowers, a gift, and a huge apology for being late. I pretended as if this wasn’t the first time I trusted and relied on someone to show up for me.
And not just someone but their mother.
I never had anyone care about my birthday, and she made such a big deal out of ours. I never expected a celebration, a gift, or even someone saying happy birthday to me. It was just another year, another age older, another, another, another…
No one ever sang me “Happy Birthday.” There were years when I didn’t even remember my own. I made myself think it didn’t matter, and now it mattered more than anything, all because I put my trust into a woman who didn’t deserve it.
I couldn’t sit there anymore. It felt claustrophobic, invasive, like the walls could read my thoughts or something. Throwing it back in my face that I should have listened to them from the beginning. That I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up and relied on a woman who abandoned them.
What was I thinking?
I tried to keep myself busy by straightening up the kitchen and starting a new load of laundry. However, my thoughts kept getting worse.
Every time I heard a car go by, I believed it was her.
Every time I heard a voice outside, an animal, the wind blowing a little too harshly, I believed it was her.
I silently yelled at myself not to glance toward the door, but I did anyway, and it remained shut.
Seconds.
Minutes.
Hours.
My thoughts lay heavy on my mind as I smiled at the boys, playing it off, holding on to the hope she’d come through for me. Then the clock got too loud, the time got too loud…
Tick, tock.
I started thinking about being back in ten.
Then ten more minutes.
Then ten more.
And then more.
Two hours flew by, and it was past midnight. Now it was the next day, and my birthday was over. I was officially another year older.
An adult.
Legal.
Something about the way the clock dinged at twelve, echoing loudly in the room, smacked me in the face with the realization that she truly didn’t show up for me when she promised she would. The moment it went off, I felt something in me snap as if it were a twig, and there was no holding back.
No holding it in either.
“Isla, are you okay?”
Kraven’s voice was all it took for me to crack. I didn’t make a sound until a cry came out, surprising me as well. My skin was clammy, my stomach churning, and then all in one breath, I began laughing.
The boys must have thought I’d lost my mind, and maybe in a way I had. To go from having no one, no love, no friends, no nothing to feeling a part of something, a unit, a bond, a family, for it to be brutally taken away before it had a chance to bloom. It was a rose being ripped from a garden.
“Isla.” Kraven’s low tone was filled with concern. It was evident in his expression.