Chapter 8

“Happy birthday!” My mom bursts through the door of my room the following Saturday, scaring me awake.

“Jeez Mom!” I yelp, as I sit up in bed. She’s got balloons and a card, with a large bouquet of flowers, and I smile. “Aww, Mom, you didn’t have to do all this!”

I take the flowers gratefully as she sets the card down on the bed beside me and my balloon bouquet on the ground.

“Of course I did. I’m so excited about this new chapter in your life, Cora. You’re officially an adult!” Her words catch me up. She’s right. I’m an adult now.

Just two weeks ago I had been so excited to turn eighteen, hoping it would bring me and Victor closer, but after I left the mall last Saturday, I finally texted him back.

First he apologized, and then he begged me for more videos. He begged me all week long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it again. I ignored him as much as I could without being rude.

Something snapped into place in my brain in the back of his car. Like a warning bell finally went off, and I realized that, as much as I liked him, maybe his interest in me is a bit…weird.

I was seventeen, still in high school, and it wasn’t even legal for us to date. What could he really want from me? Nothing real. Not if he was begging me for pictures and videos. I don’t think he even knows today is my birthday.

I shove the dark thoughts away and head to the kitchen with Mom. She makes me chocolate chip pancakes every year for my birthday breakfast, and I am excited about their delicious goodness today.

“So, Cora, what would you like to do today?” my mom asks, putting a massive stack of pancakes on the table between us. She takes her seat, passes me a plate, and loads a couple onto her own dish, before starting.

My mom’s pancakes are the best. We don’t often have extravagant treats like this, but that just makes me appreciate it all the more when we do.

“I’m not too sure. Lizzy wants to hang out and has asked me to get ready for the dance at her house, so I guess I’ll just go there a bit earlier this afternoon.”

“I’m so glad it’s the dance tonight, and you have something to look forward to. I’m sorry I have to work. I had planned to help out at the dance as a chaperone. I wanted to see you all dressed up. Will you ask Lizzy’s parents to take lots of pictures of you girls for me, please? Are you staying at Lizzy’s tonight?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan, if it’s okay.”

“Of course it is, babygirl. I prefer you not to be home alone while I’m working anyway.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“Do you want to go shopping or anything before you head to Lizzy’s? Is there anything you need for the dance?”

“No. I’m all set, thank you.” My mom’s face falls with disappointment. “But if there’s anything you need to go and get, I could come with you. I’ll even treat you to an ice cream when we’re done.”

My mom laughs. “You sound like the adult, and I’m the kid.”

I give her a tight smile. That’s not the case, at all, but I have been stepping up and helping out, financially, a lot more lately. And not just with the money from Victor.

If we didn’t need it so badly, if I didn’t help take the strain off Mom a little, I’d feel bad about where I got the money from. Like it’s a little dirty. But I refuse to feel that way, so I push those thoughts aside.

“I tell you what, I get paid next week, so maybe next Saturday we could go shopping and choose something nice for your birthday,” she suggests.

“You don’t have to do that, Mom. The flowers, card, and balloons are more than enough. Not to mention the pancakes,” I groan. “I swear they get better every year.”

“You hush your mouth. I may not be able to provide a gift on time, but my baby is damn well having a present on her birthday. Eighteen is such an important milestone. I have to get you something you can keep. Something special.”

“Okay, Mom, if you insist.”

“I do,” she replies firmly before smiling at me. “Now eat your pancakes before they’re stone-cold.”

I do as she says, and we eat in companionable silence. When I’m done, she insists on cleaning up and shoos me away to go shower and prep for the dance. It’s far too early to do my hair and makeup , but using the time to shower and shave is nice.

When I’m done, Lizzy texts me.

Lizzy

Happy Birthday to my best bitch!

Best? I better be your one and only!

Lizzy

Don’t I know it! When are you coming over? Did your mom get you anything nice?

I’m almost ready. She wants to take me shopping next week to pick something out myself.

I see the magical three dots appear and then go. Return, and vanish again. Lizzy’s obviously debating how to reply to that sad little nugget of information, but I don’t mind.

Lizzy

Oh, hun, that seriously sucks. I’m sorry. At least it’ll make my present even more amazing!

Feeling guilty toward my mom, I shoot Lizzy another message.

She got me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, and balloons. And of course, the breakfast pancakes were amazing!

I’d rather my mom spent the extra money I was able to give her on our bills and the car, rather than me. It feels weird to think that she’d be using Victor’s money to buy me a gift. Like, it’s almost from him.

I hate that.

I wonder if he knows it’s my birthday today? He hasn’t said anything at school all week, nor has he messaged me today. It’s quite out of character for him. I think. It’s not like I know him all that well. But generally speaking, he’s quite persistent when he wants something, and with the dance tonight, I was hoping he might want to see me at least.

I don’t know.

It’s a school dance. It’s not like we could do anything. And I’m not sure I even want to. But still, the rejection and disappointment stings a little.

Sighing, I grab my bag that’s already packed for Lizzy’s and head downstairs. My mom gives me a ride over to her house, and the car doesn’t miss a beat once, the whole way. Looks like she managed to get the AC fixed and a service on it.

Some of the guilt in my chest eases a little.

Okay, so making that video for Victor wasn’t the nicest feeling in the world, but my mom was able to fix the car, and I don’t have to worry so much for her safety each time she drives to work.

It was worth it.

“Have a great time tonight, honey. Remember the pictures!” she calls as I climb out and close the door.

“Thanks! I will.”

I walk up to Lizzy’s front door, which is much nicer than my house, and ring the bell. We don’t have a bell, or a knocker, you just have to use your good old-fashioned fist to gain attention. But Lizzy’s house has one of those super fancy bells that plays a little jingle whenever you ring it.

When we were kids, I loved listening to all the different options and choosing a new one each time I came over. It used to drive her parents mad, but they still let me. When we hit our teenage years, Lizzy declared the bell to be embarrassing and lame, but I still kinda like listening to the tune.

“Hey, beautiful birthday bitch!” Lizzy cries, swinging the door open wide and launching herself at me.

I have to hold my dress bag to one side so she doesn’t crush and crinkle it while she hugs me.

She waves to my mom, who waves back, blows kisses, and drives off, and then she drags me inside.

“Come on! I want to give you your present. Ugh, I can’t believe it’s your eighteenth birthday, and you’ve not even had a proper drink yet.”

“It’s noon!” I laugh.

“Exactly, which means it’s past five somewhere in the world. It’s happy hour!”

I don’t bother to argue with her, letting her pull me through the house, up the stairs, and along the hall to her room.

Lizzy’s house is gorgeous. It’s not a mansion by any means, but it is large, modern, and comfortable. She never has to want for anything, and she certainly never has to worry about eating versus paying the bills. But she also never judges or pities me, which is why she is such a great friend.

Yeah, but you know she’d judge you if you told her where you were getting all your cash from all of a sudden.

I shake those thoughts from my mind and smile as Lizzy passes me a glass of champagne.

“I’ve never had real bubbly before.”

“Well, you only turn eighteen once, so I figured we should celebrate properly. Besides, there won’t be any alcohol at the dance tonight, so we should start the party early.”

I laugh. “Technically, you only ever turn each age once,” I point out. “But I’m not arguing. Thank you, this is amazing.”

Actually, it tastes like sour cat piss, or at least what I’d imagine that to taste like, but I’d never say anything to Lizzy. Champagne is expensive, and I don’t want to appear ungrateful.

I’ll just have this one glass and then switch to water. Despite Lizzy’s idea of partying hard tonight, I really want my wits about me for this dance. Especially if I see Victor.

A few hours – and a couple more glasses of champagne at Lizzy’s insistence – later, Lizzy and I are just about ready to head off to the dance, when my phone buzzes.

V

Meet me at the baseball field at nine. Dugout.

I hesitate for a second, torn. How will I sneak away from the dance? I don’t want to go out in the dark, traipsing across the field and ruining my shoes. So I make a decision and boldly text him back.

I can’t.

His reply is instant and makes my stomach twist and knot.

V

Just this once.

When I hesitate, another message comes through. Then another and another.

V

Please.

I just want to see you.

I have a gift for you.

Against my better judgment, I agree. I want to say no, but I think I should tell him face to face I no longer want to be involved with him. Hopefully he will delete those pictures and the video. At least my face isn’t in any of them.

Okay.

“Texting a boyfriend?” Lizzy demands, making me jump and almost drop my phone.

“What? No!”

She laughs. “You should have seen your face. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just put this away.” I wave my phone and then stash it in my small clutch. It’s black satin like my dress and has a neat little loop that fits on my wrist. “Oh, my mom wants your mom to send her some pictures.”

“Please, my mom hired a professional photographer. She’s way over the top, but I’m sure she’ll send the proofs on to your mom. Can I give you your present now?” She bounces from foot to foot with excitement.

“I thought the champagne was my present.”

“Shut up. As if,” she scoffs before tossing a neatly wrapped package into my arms.

I set down my clutch and open the lightweight parcel, admiring the pretty black paper with gold swirls on it.

Once I’ve peeled back the paper, I discover a pretty pale pink box with a black bow. I gape at Lizzy, scared to open it.

“Go on.”

I shake my head. “I don’t wanna.”

She laughs. “Don’t be a baby. There’s nothing in there that’s going to bite you!”

Easy for her to say. She’s the queen of sexy undies. I look down at the logo on the box. Agent Provocateur. I know the name and have seen them advertised online. But I’ve never set foot inside a store. Too intimidating. Too chic. Too expensive.

It’s Lizzy’s favorite brand.

“Open it already!” Lizzy cries, losing patience with me.

“Okay, okay. Keep your hair on.”

“It would have been so much funnier if you said keep your panties on.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not wearing any!” she crows, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. She’s had quite a bit more to drink than me.

I undo the black bow and lift the lid on the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of softly fragranced tissue paper, is a tiny lacy black thong.

It looks so delicate, I’m afraid to touch it, for fear of ripping it with my clumsy fingers.

“Umm, it’s beautiful. Thank you,” I tell Lizzy, a little confused by her gift.

“I have the matching bra for you too, but I know you were planning on going bra-free tonight, so I didn’t bother wrapping it. Every woman needs at least one stunning set of sexy undies to make her feel like a million dollars, and this is yours. Wear it tonight.”

“What? No. There’s no point. No one’s going to see it.”

“Doesn’t matter. These are for you. You look stunning in that dress, and everything else you’re wearing is brand new. Put it on.”

I grumble under my breath, but I’m only half protesting. She’s right, of course. I have a new dress, new shoes, and a new bag. Lizzy has helped me do my hair and makeup, and I do feel amazing. But I was disappointed that I didn’t get myself new underwear for tonight. I told myself it was an unnecessary, frivolous expense.

Now, as I slip into Lizzy’s bathroom to change my underwear, a thrill races through me. I do feel like a million dollars, and the night feels full of possibilities.