Captive - FourTris

Thirty-Seven

NOVEMBER 7
2 MONTHS, 8 DAYS

Christina's birthday is today. I've spent half the day getting ready, throwing a dozen outfits all over the floor of my room and wriggling in and out of every skirt, pair of jeans, and slacks I own. We have a table for six at the Seattle Space Needle; we are going into the city and we will be dining in style, and I can't decide what's appropriate to wear. For some reason it seems inordinately important.

It feels weird to plan something without Tobias. We've only been together for two months, but I spend every single day at his house, watching as the clock counts down toward my curfew.

And even though I wish I was with him right now, I'm also excited to see Christina. We haven't hung out in, like, two weeks, and it's mostly my fault. I don't want to totally abandon her.

Christina is the kind of friend everyone wants. The kind who remembers your birthday and helps you study for a test and loans you her car if yours breaks down even though she had a date, so you can go on one of your own.

Christina is just... Christina. There's no one like her. She moved here from Texas so it might be some Southern hospitality thing or something, I don't know. But thanks to her, I picture all Texans like this, with a Southern drawl and a charming honesty and fairness. I'm sure if I ever actually went to Texas I'd be disappointed, because there's no way the rest of them could live up to her.

She's never missed a birthday of mine since she moved here freshman year, so I can't miss hers.

I slip a cute flowery blouse over my head and survey the results in the mirror. The jeans are too casual, so I slide on a pair of khakis and give it one more perusal. Not bad. I dig a sweater out of my closet in case it gets cold later.

I hear a horn, so I glance out the window to see Christina stepping out of a limo. It's her eighteenth, so her parents are going all out. I take the stairs two by two and I'm at the door before she can ring the bell.

"Happy birthday!" I hug her and hand her my gift. "You have to wait 'til dinner, though."

"You look cute!" Christina leads me to the limo and a man in the typical driver's uniform opens the door. She motions toward the car as if she's Vanna White. "Your limo awaits, darling!"

I laugh as I slide across the polished leather seats. I can't help but sigh as everything melts away. This night is exactly what I need.

"So we have to pick up Marlene, Shauna, and Lynn and then we're headed out. Want a drink?"

It's sparkling cider, and even though it feels childish to pretend it's champagne, we do anyway, clinking our glasses and toasting Christina's eighteenth. And so it goes, as we chat and catch up and pick up the rest of the guests along the way, and it's like nothing has ever come between us. It's like I haven't ignored her for the past few weeks. I want to apologize for it, I want to explain, but doing so makes it seem like I'm pushing it in her face on her birthday. So I don't.

The city lights sparkle as we approach downtown, the towers jutting into the darkening skyline. I feel the tiniest twinge of regret as I see the glimmer of the lights, wishing Tobias was here with me to see it. It's incredibly romantic.

Once we've driven for what seems like eternity, the limo pulls into a big circular turn-around and we all get out and walk to the foot of the Needle, our heels clicking on the walk. I feel sophisticated, like we all belong here. Like we do this every day or something.

The elevator access is inside a gift shop filled with a zillion different replications of the Space Needle. I resist the urge to shop for a souvenir of this night, and our group fills the lift and the door slides shut.

There's an actual elevator operator, which is a first for me. He's wearing this jaunty cap and silly tux and talking about the origin of the place—something about the World's Fair—but I'm not listening, because I can't stop looking out the glass walls. The elevator carries us upward, into the night, and I watch as the lights of the city sparkle below us. Our view gets bigger and bigger, until I can see Puget Sound and downtown and everything in between.

Once inside the restaurant, they usher us to a table near the window. Christina and I get the best seats, near the glass.

A waitress with fiery red hair walks up and hands us leather-bound menus. Everything looks so good. Stuffed chicken breast and rack of lamb and even elk.

Who wants elk? That sounds gross. I decide to stick with chicken. If it's good, I'll tell Tobias about it and we'll look up recipes and try to make it at home. Maybe I'll even buy some of that sparkling cider and we can make our own romantic meal.

The waitress comes back with strawberry lemonade for all of us, real strawberries bobbing amongst the ice.

Shauna reaches for hers and knocks it right over, and the ice cubes slide across the table and land in Lynn's lap.

My body tenses as I watch it pool over the white linens, and I wait for someone to freak out, to yell or jump back from the table. But nothing happens.

And I don't know why I thought it would. No one cares. Christina just laughs and says something about how she can't believe Shauna is coordinated enough to make the cheer squad.

And then we order, and we watch the night sky as it continually rolls by, the whole dining room revolving so that our view changes. It takes an hour for us to see everything, but it's not enough.

I want to see more. I want to stay up here all night and count every twinkling light downtown, and I want it to never end.