Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

52. I F*cking Love You

THREE MONTHS LATER

     "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR TALIA, happy birthday to you . . ." 

     I blew out the seventeen candles on my pink-frosted cake, and I made a wish. The sweet scent of smoke drifted up into the night air. Monroe squeezed my waist, her fingers trailing down the side of my hip. The touch alone made me breathless.

     It was our last night together, before she moved into her apartment in New York City for good.

    "Fuck it," said Aaron, startling me from my thoughts.

    I blinked my eyes open. "Fuck me," said Skylar, already cutting into the pink cake with a knife.

    "Fuck this," said Cody, stealing the first slice.

     I couldn't help smiling, just a little. "Fuck that."

    My birthday party―a surprised to everyone but me―consisted of Monroe, Aaron, Skylar, Cody, Claudia and Olivia. My parents were staying in a hotel for the night, and Claudia had blackmailed Skylar into a sleepover, in which they would be watching the Saw film series until ungodly hours of the night. Which left me and Monroe, just for tonight, completely alone. I was both dreading and looking forward to it. Because although I loved Monroe, everything would change for good once the night was over.

    "So, are you gonna bing-bang-bong all night?" said Claudia.

    Skylar handed Monroe and I each a slice of pink cake. Sugar-dusted strawberries had been submerged in its creamy white filling.

    "Claudia!" I scowled. "You can't just―"

    Monroe pulled me by the waist, and I nearly melted. I had the faintest suspicion she had just winked at Claudia. Claudia hummed and, with a bounce to her step that made it look like she was skipping, secured the seat next to Skylar's. 

    "Are you nervous to be a senior?" Monroe asked, once were alone at the table.

    To be honest, I'd been more worried about Monroe leaving than to even consider what my life would be like in twelfth grade. "Not really," I told her. "Are you nervous about being a university freshman?"

     "A little," she admitted, with a slight enough smirk that made me think she was only saying it for my benefit. Was it healthy to love someone this much?

     "Did you decorate this place?" I asked.

    Monroe had been the one to lead me here. I'd asked her what on earth she could possibly want in my backyard, and then . . . I'd had to gasp, because everything was just so beautiful. The tree leaves had been fluttering, drenched in moonlight and night sky. Fairy lights had been laced through the wooden slats of the fence. Little tables and chairs had been arranged around the grass, with picnic blankets underneath. There was even an enormous, retrograde radio on top of the patio, blaring music from the seventies and eighties.

     Monroe grinned. "With a little help from Claudia."

     "Oh, hold on." Pink strawberry frosting smudged the corner of her lip. "Let me just . . ." I licked her. And burst out laughing at the expression on her face.

     "What did you . . ."

     "I wanted it to be sexy," I moaned, pressing my face into the side of her neck. "Like that time at Thanksgiving with the strawberry pie . . ." 

     Monroe tried not to laugh, and failed. Miserably. 

     "Hey, lovebirds!" Cody shouted. They had spread a blanket out beside the biggest tree in the backyard. "Get over here!"