Open My Eyes

Twenty-One: Picture Perfect

Sam and Dolly both sought me out Monday morning to complain about staying up too late to help me finish the flyers. They explained in vivid detail how tired they were and what would happen if I interfered with their beauty sleep again.

          I told them it was for something important and they had plenty other opportunities to get a good night's rest in the future. They were only satisfied after I promised not to disrupt their sleeping patterns unless they were equally willing and planning on it anyway.

          It surprised me how quickly and easily Sam and I came to like Dolly. She was soft-spoken and the epitome of Southern hospitality. And in the words of Sam, she was "too polite for her own good." But we recognized the good in her and how genuinely kind she was, so we bonded with her without any true hesitancy. By the end of the night, Sam told me, "She's like the well-behaved sister I never had."

          Even though Dolly was a bit upset she got less than four hours of sleep, she did thank me, too. She explained she probably wouldn't have slept that great anyway, and I did a great job keeping her mind off things at home.

          No one asked her what had happened back home to force Dolly to come here, and she didn't hint a word about it either. She didn't even mention anything to Kae. Even though we were curious, we respected her decision to keep her mouth shut and never once brought the subject up.

          Before I headed to my shift at Hope for Youth, I picked up the flyers and looked them over with a smile. I stuck the stack into my book bag with careful precision and waved goodbye to my household of five—the busiest it'd been in a while.

          Iggy had memorized when I arrived, for he stood at the front doors, looking as suave as ever in his aviators. When he heard my footsteps approach and caught my scent of coconuts and plums, a smirk spread across his face and he turned towards me.

          I ran up to him, making him brace for possible impact, and, jumping, announced, "I have flyers!"

          An eyebrow perked and, according to his facial expression, he thought I was insane. Confused and concerned, he asked, "Why?"

          "To pass them out," I stated, as if it were obvious. "What else do you do with flyers?"

          He didn't look amused. He crossed his arms over his chest and pried further, "What are they for?"

          A broad smile bloomed on my face as I explained, "I'm inviting people to a party on Friday, so I figured flyers would be a great way to get the word out."

          "So they're invitations?" he asked, smirking slightly. He found the door handle and held it open, waiting for me to go through first this time.

          I was about to hand him one when I remembered he wouldn't be able to read it. I let out a soft sigh, and then Iggy snatched the paper from my hand with his signature smirk. He prompted me to describe it to him, so I complied: "It basically says, 'Angela would like to invite you to a summer barbeque this Friday to celebrate her eighteenth birthday.' It gives the date, address, and time."

          His eyebrows rose as he questioned in surprise, "Your birthday is this Friday?"

          "Mmhm," I answered with a nod. A teasing smile grew on my lips as I jeered, "My boyfriend is supposed to know when my birthday is."

          He gave me a smirk. "Sorry for not realizing it hadn't happened yet." His mouth fell open when he noted, "Hey, your birthday's two days after the Fourth of July."

          I looked dryly at him. I replied, sarcastic, "Really? I had no idea!"

          His lips pursed. When I laughed, he inquired, "Do you do fireworks with everyone else or do you wait until your birthday to fire 'em off?"