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I didn’t know what Neil’s type was, because I’d never seen him date anyone before, but he was obviously into me. But also…why?
No. Nope. Wasn’t going there.
I settled on an old, washed-out band tee, black tights, and a plaid, high-waisted skirt, finished off with my shiny black Dr. Martens.
With my dark hair hanging straight down to my waist and my light brown eyes staring back at me, all I saw was someone primed and ready to demolish a person. Mentally, physically, emotionally. I was a wrecking ball of a human, and I had my sights set on Neil.
I think a couple other parts of me had latched themselves on to him, too, though. Like my brain, and that annoying thing currently pumping life into me, hiding behind my ribcage like a coward.
I headed downstairs—where I walked into a kitchen containing far too much noise and visual stimulation for six-thirty in the morning.
“Whoa.” I threw my hands up as a shield, blocking my eyes from the fireworks display happening at our kitchen table. I peeked around my fingers. Okay,fireworks displaywas a tad exaggerated. A tad. But thereweresparklers. Literally, sparklers, attached to a giant cake, and it was throwing out gold and silver sparks all over the table and floor.
“Happy Birthday, baby!” my mother shouted. She was insane. For more reasons than one. But even though she was hardly ever home, she never missed a birthday—ever. It was one of a good handful of reasons why I really did love her. Despite everything else she could be, she didn’t miss those.
“Thank you.” The sentiment was squished and muffled as she pulled me into her chest with a firm hug. She was strong for such a tiny human. I gently pushed her away.
“You’re welcome, baby. Here. Open.” She shoved a small but heavy gift bag into my arms.
I plucked the tissue paper out of it, tilting it closer and peeking inside. It was a Polaroid camera. Which… was pretty awesome, really, but I was immediately suspicious. Linda didn’t do anything small or understated, a.k.a.normal,like, ever.
“I like it,” I said, attempting to hide my skepticism as I flipped through the different packs of film that came with it, but—ah,there it was. I pulled my hand out of the bag, and an airplane ticket sleeve came along with it.
Linda squealed and giggled, her head positioned over my shoulder and next to mine before she spun me around to face her. “You’re going to Europe this summer!” She threw her hands up into the air. “You can go backpacking, find yourself. And use this for pictures!”
Oh.Wow.
Okay.
I didn’t know what to say. Or think. This might’ve been the nicest thing she’d ever done for me. Because I knew I’d mentioned wanting to do this someday, and that meant that… she’d actually listened to me.
Which was new. Talking to Linda felt like talking to a wall most times, so, I might’ve felt the smallest—almost inconsiderable—bit emotional, before:
“Or you could just find a hot, rich Italian man to knock you up and marry you, and never come back. I’d forgive you,” she added.
“Gee, thanks,” I deadpanned, rolling my eyes. My feelings on the matter went right out the window. This, right here, was how I’d been conditioned to feel like emotions were stupid and pointless.
“So, what are you up to today?” she asked, changing the subject.
I shrugged, setting the gift bag down onto the table and tossing everything else back inside it. The pyrotechnic show had ended somewhere between“you’re going to Europe”and“find a hot Italian man to knock you up.”
“School. Swimming with Sydney. I don’t know,” I answered. I kind of just wanted to get the hell out of here. I wasn’t in the mood for my mother today—and everything that came along with her beingher. Not that I wasn’t stoked about her gift, because I really was.
“Alright, have fun. Be safe. I’m heading out for the next few days, so you’ll have the place to yourself. Love you.” She kissed me on the cheek and disappeared.
I wished, for just a brief second, that Jason were home. He would’ve made today awesome.
I told myself it didn’t bother me, though. None of it did. Not really.
I was holding another paper butterfly in the palm of my hand. One I knew I’d be adding to my collection later.
It was becoming a thing, wasn’t it?
Neil, and me, and these butterflies.
I kind of loved it.
I tried not to smile as Neil watched me, carefully gauging my reaction, but I failed miserably. (I’d hardly been trying, anyway.)