1. yay. my birthday.

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CRASH

"Holy crap, Sam. Didn't I just say be quiet?" Sam had knocked over the lamp on the table beside the couch. It didn't break but it made a really loud noise.

"I'm sorry! Your furniture is just too close together!" We tried our best to talk in whispers but I can tell Natasha is about to lose it.

"It's not that my furniture is 'too close together', it's just that you're so tall and lanky you knock everything over!" He looked me dead in the eye before responding.

"Ya know, that hurts. It really does." I can tell he's joking. We've known each other for ages so it's ok to make fun of him like that.

"Nat, you're really scaring me. You look like you're about to burst any minute now." She closed her eyes and kept her hand over her mouth like that was going to keep her laughter in.

"Can we please finish the movie?" I looked at Sam calmly. Like that calm way when your face just screams, 'I wanna murder you'. You know what I mean. "I'm sorry, but you know I've never seen it."

"Which still bothers me. Like, who hasn't seen Clue? It's such a classic. Tim Curry is such a legend. I don't understand you." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry that I didn't have parents who wanted to teach me these ways." Ah, crap. I've somehow hit a sore spot. You see, Sam lives with his mom. His dad is probably the nicest person I know, besides my own father. But, his dad lived his recent years over seas. I'm not sure where, but, Sam always talks about how much of a good soldier his dad was. And I agree. He died so that his brothers in arms could live. A true hero if you ask me.

But no matter how much I try to avoid the subject, every once in a while, it will come back up. And, I'm not angry about it, I don't know what he's going through. Both my parents are alive and well, as far as I know. So, to be a good friend, all I have to do is listen. That's all he wants, so I'll give it to him. But the best way I've learned he's been able to cope, is to joke. So I'm gonna steer him away from the tears and crack a cold joke open with my boy.

"You're uncultured swine, ya know that."

"So, I've been told, yeah." Bingo.

When I looked to where Nat was, she was gone. Of course. I rolled my eyes and looked around. There she was, coming up behind the couch with the can of whip cream from the fridge. She was trying so hard not to laugh but she really was about to die.

"Nat, if you plan on doing what I think you plan on doing....you better stop." She put her fingers to her lips, hushing me. She then pointed down onto the couch where my dad was sleeping. That's why we've been so quiet, by the way. "Nat, come on! I don't want to go to bed and you're gonna ruin it."

"Oh, calm down. You're dad is the heaviest sleeper I know." Right then she tripped and face-planted onto the floor. That would've been all fine and dandy, except, she grabbed the table cloth on the end table behind the couch and pulled it off, the framed pictures and little trinkets went with it. My dad sat up so fast it scared the crap out of me.

"What's going on! What time is it? Why are you guys still up?" He looked at the clock on the DVD player and it read 1:53. I don't even need to tell you it was a.m. cause it wouldn't make sense if it was p.m.

"Uhh.....wow, look at the time!" I started, trying to make it seem like I hadn't seen it before. "We were just trying to finish this movie, I didn't even notice. Holy moly." My dad lifted an eyebrow, something he's known for around my neighborhood, and took a peek behind the couch. There was Natasha, fixing the table up, the whip cream conveniently next to a picture of dad and me.

"Mhm. Didn't notice the time. Sure. Please, Trin. Go to bed."

"Just her, or...." Sam began to ask. He didn't have to finish. My dad hit him with the eyebrow and he shut up real quick.

"The mattress is on the floor, Sam. You know the rules."

"Yes, sir. Haven't broken them yet."

"I know. And let's keep it that way." Thanks, dad.

I should probably tell you, Sam and Natasha sleep over all the time, and my dad's totally fine with it. I have a twin mattress in one corner of my room, and in the other corner I have a bunk bed. Nat and I always take the bunks and Sam gets the lone mattress. And that's the rule, well, and the door always stays open but that's pretty obvious.

So, Nat finished fixing the table and we headed up the stairs to my room. I didn't even bother brushing my teeth, what's the point. Ok, maybe my teeth will turn yellow and fall out, but, that's a small price to pay when you're tired.

"Uh, Trin. Brush your teeth, nasty." Nat kicked me. I had flopped onto the bottom bunk and threw the comforter over me.

"Leave me alone. I'm the birthday girl so you can't tell me what to do." She rolled her eyes and took her toothbrush to the bathroom across the hall. I fell into that in-between stage of asleep and awake, where I was beginning to dream, but I could still hear everything that was going on. Last thing I remember hearing was Nat climb the ladder to the top bunk and Sam turn off the light.

"Triiiiinn. Triiiniiitttyyyyy." Natasha's melodious voice rudely interrupted my slumber.

"What.....do.....you want?" I kinda lifted my head but I was just too weak for that.

"You're dad has your pancakes ready." I sighed. My birthday pancakes are my weakness.

"What time is it?"

"11." Was the quick reply. I could tell she was ready to go back downstairs and I thought I heard the faint sound of her stomach rumble. I sighed again.

"Alright, fine."

"Great! Come down quick before Sam eats all your pancakes." She made her way downstairs.

"That boy better not touch my pancakes, I will kill." I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled down the many stairs. "Why do we have so many steps?" I cursed my father for building this house with a million steps.

I finally made it to the kitchen and there were the best people in the world. My dad and my two best friends. I smiled and took a seat on the stool.

"So, is, uh, is mom coming?" I asked. My father wasn't facing me but I could feel his attitude change.

"Trin, we do this every year..."

"I know, and I know it's tiring. But, I thought mom would take a break from the pictures and enjoy my birthday with me."

My mother. She was pretty great. Her name is Esmerelda, she's a professional photographer. Last I heard, she was somewhere in the mountains of Vermont. Pretty far, but I always hope she'll jump out of the closet and surprise me or something.

"It's not a big deal dad. I just ask every year, I'd hate to break tradition." He sighed.

"Nope. It's just you, me, and tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum over here." He pointed to Sam and Nat....obviously.

"I'm tweedle-dee!" Sam said, raising his hand. Nat snorted.

"Yea, right."

The doorbell rang. My heart lifted a little. And did even more when dad looked confused. He wasn't expecting mom so it could be her.

"I'll get it." I put my fork down and bolted to the door. I swung it open and.....

"Hey, kiddo." I couldn't even reply. I was in shock. "Heard it was your birthday and thought, what better gift for a niece then to see her long, lost Uncle!"

"Uncle Jensen." Was the only thing I managed to get out.

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