𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

1.1K 96 80
                                    

SEASON TWO, EPISODE THIRTEEN:
IVY

SAIDA saadiq

Eighteen.

I've been dreaming about turning eighteen since I had turned thirteen. The thought of finally being an adult made my heart flutter. When I started planning my birthday last year, the main person in the picture was Mekhi.

However, Lucky was now the guy that was going to make my day great. He hadn't currently said anything, but I had high hopes, being that it was early and I did wake him up a few hours ago to talk to him on the phone.

We weren't official, but that was only because he hadn't asked yet. Taking stuff slow, I guess. It was pretty early in the morning, though. Eight o' three, to be exact.

I'd just gotten done getting dressed and doing my hair. My parents called me about a week ago and asked if they could take me out for a celebratory birthday breakfast. We'd done it every year besides the last two.

We didn't do it for my sixteenth because my mother noticed me gaining weight and decided we could hold off on feasting for a day.

And we didn't do it last year because that was my first birthday I spent with Zion and the Bakers, and I wasn't in contact with my parents around that time.

No one knew who I was going with, because I hadn't told anyone. I told Lucky right after they called, I gave him a mini rundown of our relationship, but not the whole thing because it was a lot.

He said that I should go with my gut, because that'll give me a better answer than he or anyone else could.

I listened.

And my gut said go.

I look at myself in the mirror once more, feeling beautiful. Something I hadn't felt in a while. Cute? Yes. Beautiful? Nope.

I check my phone, seeing the text from my dad saying they were coming down the street.

I did my makeup. Subtle, but it was done. Made me feel super pretty like one of those girls boys fawn over.

I grabbed my things and tip-toed down the stairs, trying not to wake Zion, Leila, and Mr. Baker. I didn't have to worry about Mrs. Baker, since she'd left out earlier and went to work.

But, I couldn't help but notice the balloons that were in the dining room. The number eighteen and a bunch of rose gold and white balloons around it.

I couldn't help the smile on my face, but couldn't stand around to admire it much longer as I knew I had to hurry and leave. I exited out of the house, being sure to not make much noise, before locking it and making my way to the car.

I opened the door to the backseat, deciding to not speak first.

"Happy birthday, habibi." My mother looks back with a smile, showing off her deep dimples that I had began to forget she had.

She looked different. Better. Hopefully she was.

Part of me missed her, but another part knew I shouldn't.

"Thank you." I smile back. She hasn't smiled much since a few years back, and this one seemed genuine.

That's good.

Right?

"Ah, eighteen. I remember when I turned eighteen," My dad says as he begins to drive down the street. "Stayed out all night, partying, drunk off of my ass! Ha!"

"Haha.." I fake laugh, my mother shaking her head at his comment. Being judgemental was always her thing.

"Don't encourage getting sloppy drunk." She scolds him, looking at me through the mirror. "Any special plans tonight with friends? Or Mekhi, perhaps?"

SONDERWhere stories live. Discover now