The Absurdity of Fairy Tales

five

..

You are a part of me

Just as I'm a part of you.

I only hope your part of me

Won't infect the rest of you, too.

..

Fall in South California brings three things: a whole cornucopia of pumpkin-related products, more rain and birthdays. First, Cal's on October 11, then Eli's on October 25, Nick's on November 7, Delilah's on November 12 and Lexi's on December 27. As per usual, I'm the odd one out with a mid-August birthday.

For Cal's birthday, she tells Delilah and I that she wants to have a "girls' day" at the mall, and though Del and I know that we'll get kicked out of the stores and be pigging out on crappy pizza in the food court by five, we agree. Cal has always been over-exuberant about birthdays; unlike me, she actually enjoys getting older. She knows what she wants out of life and how to achieve it; she's got Julliard and Broadway in her sights, and she'll get it, everyone knows she will. (Me, on the other hand? Nada. I can't even figure out how I'm feeling half the time, so how the hell am I supposed to make a decision that will affect the rest of my life?)

So Del and I meet up at Cal's house to open gifts before driving to the mall. And yes, once we're there, we style each other in the most garish clothes we can find and laugh obnoxiously loud at them. There's a particularly brilliant one that Del and I put together—pink Crocs and black socks; neon yellow harem pants; a tight, striped puce crop top; and a massive scarf patterned with cats—that gets us laughing so hard we receive dirty looks from the other customers and the boot from the manager for 'disturbing the peace'.

"Did either of you get a picture?" Cal gasps out minutes later at our table at—ding ding ding, you guessed it—the food court, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. Her face is flushed bright red. "Oh my God, I looked like a blind swamp-person cougar. Crocs. You guys are great."

"Thanks," I say through my own giggles. "I mean, I already know I'm awesome, but acknowledgment is always nice."

"Hey, don't forget about me," Del says, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Especially since I'm the one who remembered to take a photo."

She turns her phone toward us and I immediately burst out laughing, because Jesus. Somehow, Cal made it even better with her 'runway pose'—hip jutted out, two peace signs and the worst sort of duck face. At my right, Delilah lets out the loudest snort I've ever heard and then slumps down on the table, her shoulders shaking. Cal's cackling, too, her head thrown back. Some of the people around us look scared, but that doesn't stop us. At least, not until the security guard comes over to tell us that we have to leave because we're "disturbing the peace and startling the other patrons, ma'ams". (Whoa, new record—we've never been kicked out of a mall twice.)

The next day, Delilah emails me the photo, and I immediately print it out and tack it onto my wall, right beside the last photo I ever took of my parents.

..

Thank God, the twenty-fifth isn't as big an occasion as Cal's birthday; Eli has, after all, always been way more low-key than Cal could ever think of being. He just invites the four of us—Cal, Del, Nolan and I—over to his house for an Elijah Thompson Education in Movies Special, and thankfully, they're classics this time instead of kitschy sixties horror flicks. (Unfortunately, Eli can be just as unpredictable with movies as Cal is with alcohol.)