Somewhere In Brooklyn

41 - December 29

When you said you wanted to hangout, I thought you meant walking around the city and trying different foods then watching a film at cinema at night kind of hangout.

Not meeting your family and close friends on your birthday dinner kind of hangout.

Your dad was a big shot criminal lawyer and your stepmother, Eva, worked as a teacher in your school. That grouchy guy from the train who elbowed you was your stepbrother, Ethan. You seemed to hate all three of them.

I also didn't know that you were five months older than me.

"Why? Does that bother you? That I'm five months older?" you had asked after dinner and everyone was leaving.

Your question bothered me because I wondered what you meant by that. I tried not to looked confused by shrugging. "N-No.  I, I'm... f-f-five inches t-taller than... than uh, you a-anyway." Nine inches actually, if you weren't wearing your heels earlier.

You gasped dramatically. "Respect the elders, Dale!" you chided. In an entirely different tone, you added, "I'm really glad you could come for tonight. And thank you for the gifts. Really, you didn't had to give me two presents but thank you! And hey, don't open your gift yet, okay? Not until you're home."

You bid me goodnight. And I went home.

As promised, I opened my present when I reached home. It was a journal and three different shades of blue ballpens.

On the second page, I read your handwritten note: I saw you writing before but your journal's running out of pages. Here's a new one to write down new memories (or stories or reminders or grocery lists lol). Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Dale!! All the love, Althea.