t h i r t y-f o u r - the feeling is mutual

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people are people and
sometimes it doesn't work out,
nothing we say is gonna save us
from the fall o u t . . .

▪️▫️▪️

Eighteen. My eighteenth birthday is here, and I don't feel any different. It kind of seems like just another day.

I used to love birthdays as a kid. Now, I'm indifferent about them. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, maybe it's the cynic in me taking over. Either way, it's just another day in my book.

"Can she open her present now, Mommy? Can she, can she?" Gracie bounced sporadically around her living room.

"Alright honey, relax," Mrs. Ferguson chuckled, taking a sip from her mug of tea. "Do you remember where you put it?"

Gracie's eyes went up to the ceiling, signifying that she was thinking, then she nodded her head once she figured it out. "Uh huh, can I go get it?" She pleaded.

"Yes you can," Mrs. Ferguson just about finished speaking before Gracie took off, racing up the stairs to get her present for me. "She really loves you."

"Well, the feeling is mutual," I grinned happily. "She's like the little sister I never had."

"She wouldn't stop asking if you were coming over today," Mrs. Ferguson laughed with a shake of her head. "I told her a million times that you might be busy on your birthday with your family, but she just couldn't wait to see you."

"I can always make time for Gracie. It's no problem at all," I said. She just patted my knee in return, as we waited for Gracie to come back in our seats on the couch in the Ferguson's living room.

Normally I don't see Gracie on Sunday's, but today is an exception since it's my birthday. She was so excited to give me her present that I couldn't say no. It's still early in the day too, so I have enough time to hang out with Blair and my parents later on for cake and things like that.

A minute later we heard a crash, and Mrs. Ferguson shook her head with a light chuckle. Just as she made a move to get up from the couch, Gracie came hopping down the stairs. She zoomed around the corner and stopped with a skid right in front of me.

"Happy birthday, Vicky!" She chirped.

I took a long glance up at her and smiled widely. The big, toothy grin on her face and her cheeks tinged red from running around so much. Her hair that was pulled so neatly into a braid at the nape of her neck, now falling out in disarray. Her bright blue eyes, so closely resembling Blair's, gleaming with joy and anticipation.

"Thanks, Gracie-girl," I winked, taking the card from her. Then she handed me something heavy and round, about the size of my hand, wrapped in paper.

She was practically on top of me as I opened up her homemade card and read it to myself. On the inside, she drew a picture of the two of us standing together and holding hands. Stick figures with our names above our heads, but it was adorable.

"This drawing is beautiful!" I exclaimed with a gasp. She just giggled and waited impatiently for me to open her present.

I took my sweet time to entertain her, smirking at her pleas for me to hurry up, so I asked for her help to unwrap it. Her small hands grabbed at the paper and tore it off, throwing it aside which Mrs. Ferguson just rolled her eyes playfully at.

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