Jeez, he could've at least waited for a year.
That's not even the worst thing. The worst thing is that he didn't even tell me. Not even a single message like he gave the others, not even a call, a voice mail. A fucking note could be perfect. He left me without thinking about how I'd be without him. He stopped caring about me.
It's selfish, I know, but that's how he made me feel.
I am adding another year to my age today. I'm finally sixteen, ladies and gentlemen, and I don't want to get off this comfortable bed. With a quick shove of the things on my bed side table, I find my phone and give a quick dial to my mom, who is most probably preparing for food downstairs.
"Morning, birthday girl!" she greets me. Mom, always the cheery one.
I grin. "Morning, mother! So I was thinking of breakfast- probably that in a tray and will be eaten here on my bed. What do you think?"
She dismisses me with a laugh, but after a few minutes, there she is, opening my door with a tray in hand. Hash browns, chocolate muffin, hot choco and pancakes. Life. "Anything for my princess," she says and places the tray on the bed. "And, we are going out today," she earns a grunt from me. "No buts nor excuses, get ready in two hours. Dad and your brothers are waiting for you downstairs, they're more than ready."
"Why do they have to wait for two hours for me if they're all ready? I'll be down in thirty."
She smiles and taps my head like a dog. Pssh. "That's what I wanted to hear. Love you!"
I playfully throw her a pillow as she heads out and begin to eat my breakfast. Mom.
***
"You're taking me to a restaurant?! Jesus, Ma, I just had breakfast!" I tell her. Is she about to make me fat?
She replies, not taking her eyes off the road. Funny how she drives now, and I'm taking the shot gun seat. My dad usually drives, he doesn't usually take control—care of my annoying baby bros. "I'm not getting you fat, Gian. It's not food."
I know it. I hear my dad and little brothers laugh on the back seat. They know. "Ma, you have a surprise for me, don't you?" I suspect accusingly.
She smiled sheepishly. Okay, first of all, I am wearing a freaking dress which I don't appreciate at all, and now she is planning to make me face people I don't know who will be yet in it. Great.
"Not exactly."
I am laughing my ass off when we get to the parking lot. It is too damn obvious. The pizza place which is supposed to be open right now, isn't.
I try to look as innocent as possible, as to not ruin their efforts in making a surprise for me and follow my family in the place. It is what I expected.
The moment I stepped inside, the lights are turned on, confetti are thrown out and a chorus of "Happy birthday, Gillian!" explodes.
I smile so hard and look. There are about a hundred people, all of them I know. Perks of campaigning as school's secretary. In front, there stands my best friend, and I could be happier if he's here. But he's not.
"Gian! Happy birthday! Go meet some people, I'll handle everything," she assures me and gives me a hug.
It is a party, after all. There are games, mostly adult games, which are worth the entire time of laughing my ass off. The food is awesome—pizzas are free!—and the place is nice and big. And as I sit there, looking at my friends as they pop the balloons on their butts in a relay, I realize how much love these people always give me. I realize that there is so much more to life than Twitter and Instagram and Tumblr and Facebook. I realize that there is so much more to life than school and exams. I realize that there is so much more to life than him, Zayn Malik.
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