Leather Kisses

Leather Kisses. 13

The blare of my alarm clock woke me up the next morning. Slamming my fist onto the robotic clock, I pulled the covers over my head. I wanted to stay in bed all morning, and hide from the world until this dreadful day passed.

Eventually, I forced myself up and out of bed. I went along with my usual morning routine, except occasionally, I had to stop what I was doing, answer the phone, and listen while a distant relative wished me a happy birthday. Dean arrived earlier than usual, so I had to take my morning bagel outside with me.

"Happy birthday to you . . . happy birthday to you . . . happy birthday, dear Riley, happy birthday to you . . ." Dean belted off key as soon as I walked outside.

I rolled my eyes, my skin crawling from the sound of that horrific song. It was embarrassing enough being put under the spotlight while people glorified an artificial day . . . but the corny song was the icing on the ostentatious birthday cake.

"Smile birthday girl," Dean cheered. "It's your special day."

"There's nothing special about it," I muttered, taking a bite out of my bagel.

"Somebody's grumpy," he said, pinching my cheek.

"I just don't want to deal with this," I gritted, as I climbed into the front seat of his jeep.

"You'll feel much better once you get your present," Dean replied, as he pulled onto the main road. "I spent all last night shopping for it."

"Really, you didn't have to do that. There's no need to waste your money."

"I didn't need to, but I wanted to," Dean replied. "There's a difference."

I leaned my head against the cool glass window, and muttered, "Suit yourself."

Throughout the school day, I tried my hardest to go unnoticed, and for the most part, I succeeded. One or two friends, who I hadn't talked to in months, came up to me and gave me warm, cheerful birthday wishes. I put on my best fake smile, thanked them, then went back to flying under the radar.

As any best friend would, Lucy knew about my unadulterated hatred for birthdays. She was the only person who did what I wanted; act as if my birthday was no different from any other regular day.

Overall, spending my birthday in school was not as painful as I predicted it to be. What was really going to be insufferable was celebrating it at home, with Dean and my family. The worst had yet to come. When the dismissal bell rung, I took my sweet time getting out to the junior parking lot. Undeniably, I was willing to do whatever it took to buy myself more time, and delay the dreadful celebration. Unfortunately, there was only so little I could do, and I eventually gave up.

"There you are," Dean exclaimed as I bitterly walked towards the car.

"Here I am," I scolded, crossing my arms around my chest.

Once we were on the road, Dean said, "So I have to stop by my house, and pick up your present. Mind if I drop you off at your house first?"

"Well, maybe I could come with you," I said, taking advantage of situation. "I'm in no rush to go home."

"No," Dean sternly replied. He quickly cleared his throat. "I need to wrap your present, and stuff . . ."

"Please?" I begged. "I really want to see your home."

"I don't know . . . I don't think it's a good idea," Dean murmured, suspiciously.

"Please, please, please?" I knew I was disregarding my manners, by inviting myself over and forcefully begging him, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Every day, I wanted to know more and more. Seeing his home would give me a raw glimpse into the part of his life I knew nothing about.