Friday, May 8th, 2020
"Happy eighteenth, Lonnie," Kennedy grins, placing a pink sash over my head and under one arm.
I couldn't believe this was actually happening. My worst nightmare. Hundreds of people celebrating my birthday when I had just wanted to keep it under wraps, completely low key. I was actually excited about the prospect of a family barbecue.
I look down, unable to comprehend what the hell is happening. The sash reads, 'it's my birthday and I'm the hottest bitch in the room.'
"Um, so, Asher might have made that for you? I asked him to buy you a proper one but he was adamant on making it for you," Kennedy cringes, patting my shoulder.
Sydney runs up to me, picking me up off the ground in a hug. "Happy birthday, girl."
She places a pink tiara on my head. It matches the hottest bitch sash perfectly.
"So...this whole time, we weren't having a barbecue?" I utter.
Sydney and Kennedy laugh, shaking their heads.
"Nope. It was your surprise party," Asher says, coming up behind me.
I jump in fright and he laughs, wrapping me in a death grip. "Happy birthday! Don't you just love the sash I made?"
"Yeah, it's really...something," I nod, smiling at him.
Cooper comes towards us, placing his arms around Kennedy. "Happy birthday, Lon. Did we surprise you?" he questions.
"Yep," I laugh nervously. "You definitely surprised me."
"Was that why no one answered the door? The reason everyone ignored my calls?" I add as an afterthought.
Everyone nods sheepishly. "Cooper and I were having a bit of trouble hanging up the banner. We didn't think it would be so damn hard," Asher mutters.
"You just needed a woman's touch," Sydney says. "As soon as I took the place of Asher and got up on that ladder, the banner was up within seconds."
"Hey! That isn't—"
"It's okay, Ash. We can't all have my brain," Sydney antagonizes.
"Sometimes I question our friendship," Asher mumbles, frowning at her.
The music is suddenly turned back on, startlingly loud. Cooper pulls Kennedy to the dance floor, kissing her cheek. Asher wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me along with them. Sydney tries to jump on Asher's back but she loses her grip and they both fall forward, lying on the floor.
"Oh shit!" she laughs. Asher flicks her forehead, laughing so hard that when he tries to speak the only thing that comes out is a wheeze.
I shake my head at their antics. I'd almost fallen over myself when Asher's arm got ripped from my shoulder.
I'm about to help both of them up when a soft hand grips my arm.
"Hello, London."
I turn around and I'm faced with Harry's aunt, Maria. This was exactly what I had wanted to avoid all night, yet I'd been inside less than twenty minutes.
"Hello, M—Maria," I stutter nervously.
"Happy eighteenth, darling. I hope you have an amazing night," she smiles, gripping my hand. Despite the fact I've only met her once before, she pulls me into a friendly hug.
I wrap one arm around her shoulder, closing my eyes. Tears are beginning to brim in the corners. I pull away quickly.
I feel sick. Maria was a grieving mother because of my brother. I'd never be able to look her in the eye knowing what I know.
Harry's mother, Jacqueline, walks over to us. She stands beside Maria, smiling widely at me.
"Hello, Lonnie!" she pulls me into a hug of her own. I'm keeping in a sob at this point.
Why did they have to be such good people?
I guess it was karma for what my brother did. They were nice to me and I deserved to feel like shit for it.
"Thank you for, um, hosting this for me," I say, meekly. It felt like the right thing to say despite wishing I wasn't really here.
"Well, of course. You deserve it after everything you've done for my Harry."
"Everything I've done?" I question.
Maria and Jacqueline share a glance, smiling at each other like they're in on a secret.
"Lonnie, hun, you must see how much he's changed. Before you came along this year, he was beside himself with grief. But when you came into his life, you completely brightened his day."
I swallow, focusing on my breathing.
Don't cry. Don't cry.
"Because of you, I finally got my Harry back," she croaks, placing a hand on her heart. "Thank you."
I can't speak. I'm too overwhelmed.
"Anyway," Maria interjects. "We'll leave you to it. Go have fun with your friends!"
Once they're gone, I wipe the stray tear that lands on my cheek. My hands are shaking but I quickly pull them into fists, breathing in and out slowly.
"I need a drink," I mumble to myself, walking into the kitchen.
The first thing I find in the fridge is the first thing that I open. I take a massive gulp, swallowing the entire can within seconds. I open the fridge, grab another can and gulp it down just as quickly.
I needed to forget. I needed to get so drunk that I could forget everything, even my name.
I'm onto my third drink when I hear his voice.
"Lon."
I turn to face him and my entire stomach fills with butterflies. He is so beautiful. His full lips pull into a warm smile when I meet his gaze.
His tan skin stands out against his navy shirt as I reach out for his forearm, lightly grazing his skin with my thumb. I was already tipsy. I knew I'd always been a light-weight.
"You shouldn't have done this for me. I didn't—I don't deserve this," I say, shaking my head.
"Of course you do. It's your birthday."
"No, Harry, I really—"
"Come with me," he says, grasping my hand.
We weave through groups of people. People who wish me a happy birthday as I pass. I felt so sick. I felt like a fraud. I was a fraud. Imagine if all these people knew the truth about who I was. Imagine what they would say if they knew my past.
Harry leads me up a flight of stairs. I trail behind him slowly, focusing on the warmth of his hand. His thumb absentmindedly caresses my wrist. I can feel my pulse going crazy under his touch.
He pulls me into a room, shutting the door behind him. The music quietens and I feel myself relax.
"Sorry if it's a bit overwhelming down there," he acknowledges. "But, that's just how many people love you. They all showed up for you."
I look away from Harry, pretending to be interested in the posters on his wall. I look down at his bedside table, picking up a photo.
"Is this—"
"Yep," he grins, walking around his bed to stare at the picture over my shoulder. "That's me on the far left before I had braces. Ash in the middle and Coop on the end there. First day of third grade. Oh, and in the background, that's Syd. I think that was the year she cut her own bangs."
"Ah, we all went through that stage," I smile, placing the photo back down on the side table.
"You cut your own bangs?" he laughs.
"Oh, yeah," I grin, taking out my phone. "I have photo evidence."
I open my phone, loading the photo app. "It is quite a sight. Trust me."
I hand Harry my phone, laughing at my own expense. "I was six. Don't judge."
Harry grins at the screen, his eyes lighting up. "Look at those pigtails, though. Wow. Wow. You were a cute kid."
Despite the comment being innocent, my cheeks warm. I couldn't help myself when he complimented me.
He starts to flick through my photos. I don't think anything of it until he frowns, turning the phone back to me.
"Who's this kid? He's in a few of your photos."
Nix.
I snatch the phone out of his hands, placing it in my purse. "No one."
"No one? He's in heaps of your photos. Like, young and older photos."
"Just..a cousin."
He nods but I can't tell if he really believes me. He was probably just sick of asking so many questions and not getting any answers.
"He looks a lot like you," he says ambivalently.
"So people say," I brittle.
I turn away from Harry again, scared that he'll see how hard I'm trying to keep in my tears.
"Anyway," he clears his throat. "I did bring you up here for a reason."
"Hmm?"
I watch him in my periphery as he rifles through his chest of drawers, clearly searching for something. He mumbles incoherently under his breath, picking up socks and throwing them haphazardly around the room.
"Did you need some help?" I ponder. He doesn't answer, but eventually, he turns around.
"Close your eyes," he gently prompts. I do as he says, closing my eyes and waiting for whatever he was about to do.
He walks behind me, brushing my hair to one shoulder. Goosebumps rise on my skin and I shiver. He places something small around my neck, clasping it softly at the back.
When he steps away, I open my eyes. My hands instantly fly to my neck, feeling the necklace. He leads me over to the mirror so that I can see it.
It's small and circular, almost the colour of a pearl. Tiny writing has been inscribed onto it, cursively.
There I find you marked in constellation.
"It's the lyrics from—"
"22, Over Soon. Bon Iver," I finish, whispering.
I watch Harry standing behind me in the mirror. His eyes meet mine and I have to swallow to keep my emotions in check.
"Yeah," he softly speaks. "Probably not his most popular song but when I hear it, it just reminds me of you. Like how you loved the constellations as a kid. And obviously, because you love Bon Iver and—"
"Harry you already bought me my present. The Bon Iver concert tickets in April, remember?"
"Well, yeah, but I saw that you could get these necklaces hand-made and—"
"Hand-made? Holy— Harry! How much did this cost you?" I pipe.
"Really not that much, Lon."
"Harry..."
"Even so, it was worth everything to see your face light up," he whispers honestly.
I watch the expression as he fixes my hair back over my shoulders thoughtfully.
I turn around slowly, gripping his forearms. He smiles down at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Happy birthday," he whispers, cupping my cheek.
I rest my palm against his hand, leaning into his touch absentmindedly. I close my eyes and he grazes his thumb against my cheek.
"I wish I could take away your pain," he quavers.
"I'm not— I'm not in pain. Not when I'm with you," I state sincerely. "Never with you."
And then it all happens so fast that I don't have time to stop it.
My lips meet Harry's and it feels different this time. It feels more urgent, more important. I can feel myself trembling beneath him. His hand rests on the side of my face, pulling me closer. I pull him closer to me as I walk back until I hit the dresser. He picks me up and I instantly wrap my legs around his waist.
"Lonnie," he groans, sitting be atop his dresser.
He trails open mouth kisses down my neck and I lean back, giving him more access.
I'd never felt so alive. Being with someone, being around Harry, that was enough. But this, this was on a whole new level.
His hands drag delicately down the front of my dress. My breath catches in my throat when he drags my jacket off me slowly.
I bring his lips back to mine, playing with the ends of his hair. He groans softly, his hands clenching my thighs.
I move my hands down, beginning to unbutton his shirt. He pulls back, helping with me the remaining few before throwing it to the floor.
I run my hands up his sculptured back, feeling his muscles ripple as he moves. His hands move higher up my thigh, his fingers tracing circles against my skin.
I reach back behind me, beginning the unzip my dress. The top half falls down my arms slowly, revealing my black bra.
He continues to kiss me, searching for the clasp on my bra. He unhooks it, about to pull it forward when the door suddenly opens.
I jump, pulling my knees to my chest to cover up. Harry pulls away, standing in front of me protectively as I begin to pull my clothes back on. He glares at the culprit standing by the door.
"Wrong room," Harry's voice booms.
"Shit. This definitely isn't the bathroom," a guy slurs. He stumbles down the hallway, leaving the door wide open and the music pumping.
I touch my fingers to my lips briefly, closing my eyes. "I should get back. Kennedy is probably wondering where I've gone."
"Lonnie—"
I zip up the rest of my dress, grabbing for my denim jacket.
"Lonnie—"
I scamper down the stairs, ignoring Harry's calls. I close my eyes in frustration, balling my fists.
I'd gone and done it again. I knew that kissing Harry was wrong, yet being selfish, I'd gone and let my emotions run rampant. I was a fool for letting it happen again. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Harry, yet that was exactly what I was doing.
"Get it together. Get it together," I scratch out, my voice breaking.
I stride towards the kitchen going for the fridge. I needed another drink. I needed one desperately.
"Having fun, Lonnie?"
Fuck. It's fucking Maria and her fucking perfect manners. Her fucking good nature and her fucking gracious smile.
"Y— yes."
"I'm so glad, honey. I know it must have been hard moving to a new school this year. But look at you. Look at all these people who have come for you."
I look around the room, watching everyone dance and laugh. I spot Kennedy and Cooper dancing together slowly, despite the fast-paced beat. I spot Sydney standing on the coffee table doing some type of strange-looking dance. She starts to laugh drunkenly, pulling a guy up next to her.
"You've made some amazing friends, Lonnie. And they're lucky to have you."
I offer her the best smile I can. Unfortunately, it turns into a grimace. I place the beer down on the counter in front of me, my stomach churning.
"If you'll excuse me," I say, bringing a hand to my lips.
I was going to be sick. I was going to be physically sick.
I rush out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. I didn't even know where the bathroom was but I needed to find one urgently.
"Lon?"
It's Asher. I rush by him, dry-reaching.
"Oh. Shit. This way."
He leads me towards the bathroom, opening the door and holding my hair back. I lean over the bowl, vomiting the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
"Shit. I didn't think you'd even drunk that much," he whistles.
I sit back against the wall, breathing heavily. In out. In out.
I begin to sob uncontrollably. I bring a hand to my mouth but it doesn't soften my cries.
"Oh, Lon," Asher quavers. "Hey. It's okay."
He scoots over to me on the floor, resting my head in his lap. He brushes my hair back from my face.
"You know, you should talk to Harry about whatever is going on. He's really worried about you."
"I can't," I whimper. "I can't."
"Lonnie..."
"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of this. I'm a terrible person."
"What are you talking about?"
"Something bad happened, Ash. Something terrible and I can't tell anyone because—because..."
I begin to sob harder, my entire body shaking.
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad. You've just been drinking tonight. Everything is going to be okay."
I suddenly sit up. Asher wipes the tears from under my eyes as my lip quivers. "You need to tell Harry to stay away from me."
He shakes his head, confused. "He would never listen to something as crazy as that."
"Please—"
"This isn't the first time I've seen you this upset. Something is going on. I think you should be talking about it."
I shake my head vigorously. "I'm ruining his life."
"Actually, Lon, you've completely changed it."
Jacqueline's words ring in my ear from earlier and I can feel the bile rising up my throat. I lean over the bowl again, vomiting up what little remains. My stomach contracts, shaking violently.
I rest my arms against the bowl, sobbing into the toilet. "It's all my fault. All these people are sad and it's my fault. I should have stayed away."
"Lon, I don't understand."
No one could understand. No one would understand what was happening. Everything was starting to collapse in around me and I couldn't tell a soul.
Aubrey. Jacqueline. Maria. Harry. Kennedy. Syd. Asher. Coop. My parents. Nix. My life.
My head begins to swarm with thoughts and I can feel a headache forming.
Asher pulls me back from the bowl. He grabs a hair tie that I keep around my wrist. He ties back my hair delicately, dabbing my tear-stained cheeks.
"Syd was right about you," I whisper, closing my eyes as he cleans my mascara.
"What?"
"She told me how kind you are, underneath the class-clown demeanour. You're a great person, Ash. They are so lucky to have you as a friend."
He smiles. "I am so using that against her."
"Can you promise me something?" I scratch, my throat dry.
"What is it?"
"Promise me that, whatever happens, you'll tell Harry that I will always, always wish that I could go back in time and change everything. That I'll always be sorry."
"Lon, w—"
"Promise me, Asher," I insist. "Please."
"Okay, okay. I promise," he murmurs gently. "When do you want me to tell him this?"
"You'll know when."
We sit side-by-side for a long time after that, talking about nothing in particular.
I rest my head against Asher, growing tired by the second.
"Come on," he says, wrapping this arm around me. "Let's get you home."