Chapter 37
(Lee’s POV)
For some reason the kitchen looks much smaller when Joe is in it. He’s not a big guy, 6’ 2” tops, and he is neither fat nor overly muscle-y. He just seems to take up a lot of space. He and my mom are making pancakes, and being disgustingly adorable, helping each other flip the pan with their arms wrapped around each other. I look away, my eyes wandering to the cats’ food then the couch. My mother detaches herself from Joe and kisses me on the top of my head.
“Happy birthday, sweetie.” She smiles.
“Thanks,” I mumble, wiping the crumbs from my eyes.
She strolls over to the fridge and pulls out the strawberries. I know that she is going to pick out the heavy whipping cream to make whipped cream too. For as long as I could remember, this was my birthday tradition: pancakes made from scratch, whipped cream, fresh cut strawberries, and syrup of course.
Since her engagement to Joe, or maybe since I got into college, my mom has been in a much better disposition. It sound cliché but I forgot how happy she could really be. I swivel in my chair then reach down to pet Atticus.
“How does nineteen feel?” Joe asks me, slipping another pancake onto the large serving platter.
I yawn, still tired from my crazy night of Netflix and Pinterest.
“The same,” I reply. “I mean, I still can’t vote or drink, legally…so.”
My mom looks up when I say drink, but quickly returns to the sharp knife in her hand.
“Mom…have you seen my phone?” I ask, changing the subject quickly.
“Umm…I think I saw it on the living room coffee table.” She replies quickly.
I groan, but stand, and stumble into the living room. I swipe it off of the table and try to clean it with my Captain America sweatpants. I power on my phone, anxious to check my texts, Instagram, and Tumblr.
“Lee, we’re about to eat, put your phone away.” My mother scolds, sliding a plate in front of me.
I tuck it in my pocket resentfully, but direct my attention toward breakfast. Staying with the tradition, I place a pancake on my plate, spread out a heaping dollop of whipped cream, then organize the strawberries on the top. Joe sticks a candle in it and, always prepared, pulls out a lighter. There are no lights to turn off, so I close my eyes, thinking of my wish, then blow it out. My mom claps, a sound that fills the room and startles Radley, who scampers quickly out of the kitchen. I hear him padding up the stairs. Joe and my Mom sit down in the swivel, kitchen chairs. I am glad my mom didn’t insist we go into the dining room for a real sit down meal.
“Thank you guys for breakfast.” I smile, wiping the whipped cream off of my mouth with my napkin.
“Not a problem, Lee.” My mom responds while Joe nods.
“Any plans for the day?” He asks finally, sliding the strawberries my way.
I shake my head, “I don’t think so. Staying in, seeing how I don’t really have any friends.”
“Don’t worry, Lee, that’ll all change in college. You’ll be out every weekend. Guys falling all over you. You’ll have track team friends.” Joe encourages me. “Are you going to pledge any sororities?”
His question takes me by surprise; I swallow my bite without chewing for long enough and the big lump travels painfully down my throat.
“Uh…I don’t know. Were you in a sorority mom?” I ask, turning to her.
She is also taken by surprise with my question, as she coughs quickly on her glass of red wine. Yes, red wine at nine in the morning.
“A matter of fact, yes, I was. I pledged several but ultimately chose Kappa Alpha Theta.”
“Is that actually what they’re called?” I ask, putting down my glass of orange juice.
“I wouldn’t have seen you as the sorority girl type.”
“Oh, I used to…be a lot younger, and enjoyed the activities the youth enjoy. That’s actually how I…So, Joe, you weren’t in a frat?” My mom smiles, and rubs his bare arm.
I cough politely, knowing how my mother was going to finish the sentence. ‘That’s actually how I met your father.’ Looks like my good old dad was a frat boy, easy for me to believe. I can just picture the red Solo cups, Vineyard Vine clothes, and Sperry’s.
I stand, the awkward too much for me to handle at the moment, and put my plate in the dishwasher. Retreating to my room, I plop down on the bed next to Atticus. He purrs loudly when I run my fingers through his fur. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I remember my eagerness to check my texts. I smile easily seeing the warm happy birthday texts from the band. It is strange thinking that I don’t have any other friends. Only the boys of 5 Seconds of Summer. I hope that maybe, even if I don’t pledge a sorority, I will make friends in college. Calum sends a ‘Happy Birthday, see you later tonight I promise. At the studio. Duty calls,’ and a plethora of emojis.
My Instagram is flooded with new photos and a couple happy birthdays. After spending a couple months with my dad I took a little break from Twitter and became a bit more focused on Instagram and Tumblr. I feel the weight shift as Atticus jumps down to curl up in the corner. I turn on some music on iTunes Radio: Birdy and Lana Del Rey. Downstairs I hear Joe and my mom cleaning up the kitchen, plates and silverware clicking, and then turn on the television.
I amble downstairs around noon to get lunch. Of course today is the day Mom and Joe decided to stay in. Probably to make sure I don’t throw a wild party with all of my five friends. They are curled up on the couch watching television and being disgustingly adorable. They really look in love. I hope they still act that way after getting married. A wedding in December seems so soon. I love the idea of their winter wedding though. Well, assuming they get married in the states. Engagement after not even a year together, it would be like Calum and me getting married. Maybe the whole relationship, love thing gets easier as you get older.
“Do either of you want a grilled cheese sandwich?” I call into the living room.
“No thanks, we’re fine!” My mom yells back; then I hear giggling.
I pull out my favorite frying pan then move to the refrigerator and pull out the cheese and butter. It’s always interesting to think that some people don’t know how to make a grilled cheese. I turn on the oven and let some butter melt before laying down a cube of butter. I place a slice of whole grain bread down then lay down the cheddar and American cheese. Next comes the other slice of bread and the flip. Press down on the sandwich, flip a couple more times, not using the spatula, but the frying pan like a real chef until satisfied. I flip it onto my plate then pull a bottle of protein blast Naked juice out of the refrigerator. I retreat upstairs like an animal, to the comforts of my bed and my laptop.
At four I get a call from Calum.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
“Happy Birthday!” He shouts on the other line and I hear other quieter voices share their wishes.
“Thanks. Why are you calling? How’s the studio?”
“Good. Lots of work getting done. Um…me and the band are coming over and we’re bringing a cake and dinner so don’t bake anything!”
“Alright, alright. My hands are up.” I laugh. “What time should I expect you guys? My mom and Joe are canoodling on the couch and I can’t wait to force them upstairs so I can have a regular raging party like a normal nineteen year old.”
“We’ll be there at six-ish. See you soon. Bye.” He ends the call quickly.
I smile with phone to my chest. A warm glow fills my body. I turn on iTunes Radio once again, changing it to 5SOS radio and hop in the shower. I pop out quickly then put my hair in a quick braid. I swipe on a quick coat of make up for no reason, not like I’m going out, not like the band hasn’t seen me at 6 in the morning after zero sleep in a tight space and with a cold too.
I pull on my gray joggers and a Batman tank top. Atticus is forced to move when I slip into my moccasins. Strolling downstairs with a smile on my face I feel euphoric. A wave of simple joy is filling me. It is strange and cliché, but it’s like I’m walking on a cloud. Maybe it was the shower. Downstairs I have to break the news to my mom and Joe. They leave willingly, more than willingly and rush upstairs. I hope I don’t hear any headboard banging.
“Tell Calum I say hi and thank you!” My mom calls, heading upstairs.
“Will do…” I mutter under my breath.
My knee taps against the underside of the counter as I wait impatiently for a knock on the door. Thankfully I don’t have to.
So sorry all! I didn't have time to revise, but I hope it's good. Please like, comment, fan, etc. And good luck with your end of the year school work. xoxo~Lauren
