Chapter 16
happy birthday quinn
| Chandler |
"What are you doing?" I turn around to see the guys on the ground amusedly watching me as I try to hold my balance on the porch roof. "I'm decorating," I gesture to the mess of lights in front of me. "It's October, why the hell are you putting the Christmas lights up?"
"Carson they're going to be on the fall setting, it's for thanksgiving." I grab an autumnal wreath from the top of a bin, tossing it down to Carson as he gives me an unimpressed look. "Why are you like this?" He groans as I give him a sickly sweet smile. "Don't you and the Brady Bunch have somewhere to be?" I can tell they're going out based on the fact that they're not wearing sweatpants or swim trunks. The small army of polo-clad boys look like actual humans, not drunk or hungover, and wearing normal, everyday clothes for once.
"We're going golfing, don't fall off the roof, I'd hate to find you dangling from a string of lights when we get home," he smirks as I give him a sarcastic laugh back.
"Go have fun with your boring golf game, I'll be here decorating and making it look cute so I can hold my position as the favourite of the family," I wave my hand trying to get them to leave as Carson lets out a loud laugh.
After having spent the past 5 days at the house with the boys I was happy to get out and spend time by myself, the most I had gotten of me-time these past couple of days was when I was sleeping, even with the guys trying to give me some distance. Now with the boys out of the house for the day, I'm free to do whatever I so desire without the fear of them being there. I wasn't about to go walking around the house with no clothes on, but I was about to autumn-fy the heck out of this house.
Unfortunately, my parents have never thrown out a single thing we've ever made, so we have more than enough thanksgiving and Halloween-themed decorations, despite how horrible they may be. Our kindergarten paper-leaf garlands, cut-out pumpkins, and popsicle-stick skeletons - I refuse to actually use any of them, mostly because my mom will bawl her eyes out at the sight of them, but so will I.
I've now successfully, or almost successfully managed to avoid both crying, the boys, and crying in front of the boys for 2 days. I'm pretty proud of myself. Yeah, I've had to continue to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to run and have breakfast before any of them woke up, and had to strategically plan when to move around the house based on if they were out or not, but I haven't had the awkward experience of having a real conversation with any of them yet. All-in-all that's all that really matters.
Seeing as the guys will be gone for the rest of the day, thank God, I'll have the entire house to myself. I'll finally finish these stupid, but cute decorations, and start bringing out the fall throw pillows and blankets my parents hate, hopefully I'll even have time to make cookies or something.
But for now, I'm stuck, dealing with a tangle of cords and strings of lights, which no, don't need to be up for thanksgiving, but I'm going to do it anyway just because Carson felt the need to call me out on it. I had managed to convince mom to take me into Kelowna yesterday, giving me a day away from the boys and a day in the craft stores, so we have a plethora of decorations for the house. My parents might hate having to take them down when we leave before we can help, which is always on purpose, but my little cousins adored it, and at this point I couldn't not decorate.
The lights admittedly are taking me longer than planned. At this point, I'm not even convinced there is a fall setting and I should just give up. There's absolutely no way I'm going to be able to string all the lights around the house, so I guess I'll just settle for the porch. I won't say that they look that good, but they're up and that's what matters, dad can fix them in a couple of weeks when he properly puts them up for Christmas.
Jesus this looks bad.
Thank God the boxes are significantly lighter now, the fact that I managed to push them up in the first place is a miracle. The suspicious crunching noise each box makes as I toss it to the ground is more than a little concerning, but I'm going to ignore it and just shove them back under the stairs.
No one is home. No one is home.
I have the whole house to myself. Boy free and no need to worry about them walking in at any minute. It almost feels freeing.
I do hate that I'm still in this limbo stage. It probably doesn't help that I've put myself here and don't entirely know how to get myself out of it.
The first morning, Jake was sweet - I know, that's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one - and brought me a coffee while I was trying to hide on the swing chair with a book I had stolen from my mom. Brock bought my mom and me each a bouquet of flowers, which mom absolutely lost her shit over. Quinn and Elias were quiet, which I'm definitely not mad about. They never went out of their way, but seemed more key on little things, like Quinn always sitting close next to me, or Elias grabbing my dishes after we eat. It was still awkward beyond compare, but thankfully not as bad as I was expecting it to be.
All of which leads us to today. I feel weirdly myself today. For the first time in a long time. I don't know if mom slipped an extra antidepressant into my smoothie this morning or if I'm just having a good day, but I'm not complaining. I know the guys recognized it in our brief exchange this morning, Everett's eyes almost lighting up as I held my banter with Carson. It just feels like today everything is falling into place. Like today everything is right and today everything is good. October 13, officially a good day for me - I'm speaking it into existence for the universe to hear.
My lights are up, the throw pillows exchanged for fall ones, the extensive fall decor now strung around the house, pumpkin-scented candles lit in nearly every room, and cookie dough mixing in front of me. Today's going to be a good day.
Absentmindedly, I dance my way around the kitchen, cleaning up my trail of flour from the countertop as my happy songs playlist flows through the speakers. I feel more myself in this moment than I have in months. Today is such a good day.
Candy corn in the cookie mix, George Ezra playing on the speakers, what more could a girl ask for?
Probably a couple more hours of silence.
The boys don't need to announce themselves when they get home, it's impossible not to hear them before they even open the door. I don't think I've ever met a group of guys that could be so loud all the time, and I've lived with hockey players my whole life.
I have to stop myself from wincing as I hear the door click open. This is good, I'm more than capable of standing in the kitchen baking cookies while the guys go about their day.
"Woah," I try not to turn as the guys file into the kitchen, by the sound of their steps at least one of them walking up to me. "Oh yum," Jake leans over to steal a scoop of cookie batter as he leans on the counter beside me. I need to breathe. "I'm not responsible if you get salmonella," I mumble as I try to focus on evenly placing the balls of dough on the cookie sheet.
"I'm pretty sure salmonella is a myth," Jake steals another scoop of cookie dough as I smack his hand away. "Where's your phone?" I can hardly understand him as he mumbles through his stuffed mouth. I point to the far corner, Jake quickly scurrying over and turning down my music. Dammit.
"You're ruining the bubble that is my me-time Jacob, I just want to listen to my music and bake these cookies in peace" I try to shoot him a glare as I'm met with the already unimpressed expression on his face. "Chaney, I think you've had more than enough you-time as of late," he lifts his eyebrow as I turn my attention back to the bowl in front of me. What an asshole.
"Oh fuck off," I manage to squeak out, my cheeks burning as I play with the strings on my hoodie. Jake lets out a small laugh, throwing my phone to me as he tells me I have a couple of messages. "How was your game?" I ask no one in particular, scrolling through the few messages, mostly from Carson or Everett. When none of the guys answer me I quickly turn around, trying my best to raise my eyebrows in suspicion. "Nice hoodie," Carson smirks as I try not to roll my eyes. "How was your game?" I repeat myself, the guys all shrugging in response. I get it, I was an ass and made no effort to talk to them for 2 days, I deserved the silent treatment right now.
"Have you been wearing contacts this whole time?" Brock finally speaks, a small smirk crossing his face as I turn to him. At least one of them is willing to talk. I give him a small smile, nodding my head as I self consciously adjust my glasses. "I am wearing glasses in like half of the photos on the wall" I shrug as I point to the gallery wall behind him, the guys looking over their shoulders in unison. That wasn't the best thing to say, there's no way to keep the conversation going. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt," I try not to let out an obnoxious sigh as I look down at my hands, picking at the skin on my nail beds.
What do I do? What do I do? What should I do?
I can't stop the bad idea that's quickly formulated in my head from coming to fruition as I quickly walk out of the kitchen, leaving the boys and my cookies alone for a second. When I come back, the book heavy in my hands, Jake and Brock both stand over the bowl, trying to sneak spoonfuls of cookie dough. "Guys," I whine a little more than intended as they quickly move away from the bowl. Jake gives me an innocent smile as I slide the book onto the island counter, easily flipping the front page cover, something I never thought I would be able to do.
"Carson got off lucky, asshole never even needed braces," I try to laugh as I start flipping the pages slowly. I can feel the guys move in around me, our shoulders pressing against one another as we lean over the book. "I had to get corrective surgery just after our first birthday, the muscles behind my eyes weren't properly developed enough, I had to wear corrective lenses for my lazy eyes until I got the second surgery when I was 14." I trace my finger over a photo of me, probably only 2 years old with my baby glasses, which looked more like goggles, a neon pink colour that no pair of glasses should ever be.
I let out a shaky breath as I move the gaze to the next page. I can feel my heart rate picking up as I trace over a photo from our third Halloween. "You could always tell Carson from Cameron because of Cam's hearing aids, it was nice because they have the same face." The photo was of the 4 of us dressed in our costumes; Carson as Woody, I was Jessie, Cam as Buzz, and Garrett as Batman. Carson was crying, mom always said him and Cameron would cry about not having each other's clothes if they weren't wearing the same thing. My smile was over-exaggerated, Garrett and Cameron facing each other laughing. It was perfect.
"I can't believe you were a blondie Cars, you look like you could have given Petey a run for his money," Quinn laughs as Carson pushes his shoulder. "Forget blondie, no wonder Chandler can be so sassy look at that red hair!" I have to stop myself from excessively laughing at Brock's comment. If we weren't all roughly the same size, there's no way you would have been able to guess that we were triplets, even when we were younger. Carson and Cameron were undeniably identical, effortlessly identified as twins, and then there was me; the always tinier, fiery red-haired addition.
"This is when we lived in LA, dad got to take us to his first family skate, we were only 3 but the guys loved helping us, and Garrett was older so he actually got to learn from them," the 3 of us all adorned our mini LA Kings Jerseys, our honorary numbers as always embroidered on the back.
Carson grabbed a large stack of the pages, flipping towards the back of the book "this was the Rangers 85th season celebration," he points at a page of us, our 85th anniversary edition jerseys on at a playoffs game. We must have been 10ish at the time. "And this is the next year when they won the Atlantic division."
"You do realize that you guys had the coolest childhood right?" Brock laughs as he studies the pages, the rest of the guys looking over the photos just as intensely.
"This was right after we moved to Detroit, they were on lockout the first year so dad's first real year with them was also the winter classic." The 4 of us, Garrett having come home for winter break, standing on the ice during the morning family session, Red Wings jerseys and toques matching on all of us, standing in the middle of the University of Michigan stadium.
"That was the best day, the team brought us a birthday cake each that we got to eat for breakfast, poor mom having to deal with us locked in the suite after we were sick from the sugar," I couldn't help but smile as I met Carson's eyes, a happy smile etched on his lips. "You and Cam threw up all morning after racing to see who could eat more cake, Garrett and I were the only ones able to watch the game after mom had to make sure you didn't choke on your puke," the guys immediately start laughing as Carson's face turns bright red. "Still the best birthday," he shrugs, trying to pretend that he's not still embarrassed about puking all over the glass table in the executive suite.
"Hey! We brought pizza!" Before I can even tell the boys the rest of the story my parents' voices ring down the hall. I immediately slam the book shut, nearly catching Jake's hand between the covers as I pull the book off the counter. I practically sprint out of the kitchen to try and shove the book back into the cupboard as my parents make their way into the house.
"Oh good and we'll have cookies for dessert!" My dad laughs as they unload their high stacks of pizza boxes onto the counter. "That's only if Jake left enough batter for me to actually make any." I try to sneak my way back into the kitchen as the boys help my mom set out the boxes.
"Looks good in here bug," my dad smiles before pulling me into his shoulder. "Glad you finally came out of hiding to do this, was starting to worry that I'd have to explain to the kids that we weren't the fun house anymore" I stupidly giggle in response, pulling myself out of his tight grip to try and get some pizza before the boys left me with the scraps.
"I hear you guys are coming for a tour tomorrow!" My mom excitedly claps her hands together as her and my dad join the rest of us in the dining room. "Yeah, I have to head back to Van on Friday, and seeing as it's Huggy's day we told him he could do whatever he wanted, so you'll have to deal with us wine drunk tomorrow night," Jake smiles over at my mom, "sorry in advance Elle," he gives her a quick smirk as she laughs. "Honey I've dealt with you drunk before, you're not the problem," she nods her head in my direction causing the guys to burst into a laughing fit. "Hilarious," I mumble as I pick at the peppers on my slice.
"It's too bad that you have to go home, but it'll be so nice to go visit with your family for thanksgiving. I heard about Stefan's baby! That's so exciting Uncle Jake, what'd he name her again?" My mom already knew, her and Brigette still kept in touch, having at least weekly FaceTime calls. "Her name's Blake," Jake has such an excited smile as he starts talking about the couple times he's gotten to see his niece.
"Blake, what a nice name," my mom smiles, her eyes not so secretly sneaking glances at me. "Blake. Blake, Blake, Blake, I know that name from someone else" she taps her fingers on the table as she slowly looks around the table before settling on me, sending me an almost evil smile.
"Asher Blake! Ugh, how could I forget? Have you heard from him lately?" She 'innocently' asks as Carson nearly chokes on his water beside me. Thankfully the rest of the boys seem to be engaged in their own conversations, not paying much attention to my mother and I.
"No, I haven't." A bold-faced lie. Asher was quick to make a reappearance in my messages after it was announced that Carson and Everett were at training camp, and again after the boys signed their conditional contracts. "That's too bad, he was so cute," she smirks at me as Carson now nearly chokes on his water. "He sure was something," I give her a quick, but obviously fake smile before turning my attention back to my now unappetizing piece of pizza.
"Chandler? Are you still coming with us tomorrow?" I didn't realize I had started a staring match with my pizza until I was pulled out of it. I looked up, Quinn's attention clearly on me while everyone else finished their plates. "Oh, um, yeah if that's okay with you guys" I shrug, once again going back to picking at the peppers on the plate. "We want you there," Elias gives me a wide smile, almost trying extra hard to assure me. I return the smile, nodding my head to confirm I'd go with them.
"Quinn, any requests for dinner tomorrow?" My mom starts grabbing plates, smacking Jake's hand away as he tries to help her. "Oh, no that's okay, thank you Ellen" he smiles up at her but still moves anxiously in his chair.
"It's your day you can choose dinner, just let me know a couple of hours in advance." She pats him on the shoulder before following my dad into the kitchen. I can't stop my eyebrows from pushing together at my mom's words. "It's Quinn's birthday tomorrow," Elias smirks as he leans forward onto the table. No longer pushed together, my eyebrows instinctively move probably halfway up my forehead, how did I not know it was Quinn's birthday?
"Tomorrow?? Like as in 6 hours from now?" Quinn tries to laugh as his forehead turns a little red. He shrugs, clearly trying to act like it's not a big deal before glaring at a smiley Elias.
"Why didn't anyone tell me it was your birthday?" I can't believe no one told me it was his birthday. "You never asked" Jake smirks as he leans against me.
Chan: if you had to guess,
and I stg don't ask
him, would Quinn
like a chocolate or
vanilla cake more?
The batch of cookies in the oven served as the perfect distraction: the boys were expecting cookies and therefore wouldn't bother me about the cake batter I'm currently mixing, with the added bonus that by the time the last tray comes out the cake can go in.
#1: chocolate. definitely chocolate.
I know the answer is likely Carson's own preference, but he knew Quinn best between us. As expected, the boys make their rounds in and out of the kitchen, nearly eating the entire tray of cookies the second it comes out of the oven, and then returning 15 minutes later for the next. But none of them catch on to the cake pans.
11:57. The boys were loudly playing Fifa in the living room as I finished placing the sprinkles on the top of Quinn's cake.
I can't believe I didn't know it was his birthday, so unfortunately this is the best I can do on such short notice. I quickly place the small handful of candles I managed to find in the back of a drawer on the top of the cake, lighting them before texting Quinn to come into the kitchen.
"Hey!" I hate that I jumped at his entrance, but I didn't expect him to come in so quickly. "Hey," I smile up at him, turning around to place the cake on the counter in front of me so he could see it. Quinn's face softens a little, holding what feels like anxious eye contact before breaking into a splintering smile. "Chan," he starts as he walks towards me, causing a quick giggle to escape my lips. Did I just giggle? I didn't even realize I could giggle.
"Sorry it's last minute, and sorry I didn't realize it was your birthday," I can't stop my face from turning bright red as Quinn keeps looking from the cake to me and back again. "Chan-" it sounds like he breathes my name before I quickly cut him off, rambling before I can stop myself, "I hope you like chocolate, Carson said you'd like chocolate over vanilla even though I think was probably just his own preference, and don't worry I'm not about to sing to you, and if you don't want the candles, I don't know, I realize now it might be a bit much, I can just take them off."
He doesn't say anything, which worries me as he continues to walk towards me. I nudge the cake closer in front of one of the chairs, thinking he might sit down in front of it, instead being pulled into Quinn's chest, his arms almost too tightly wrapping around my shoulders.
"Thank you," his voice sounds so airy I don't think he even knows what he's saying. I don't want him to think I'm hesitating too long before I softly wrap my arms around his back, his chin neatly resting on my forehead. I pull back a little, looking up at him as he watches me, his face still soft with a look of endearment.
"Happy birthday Quinn" I don't even recognize my own actions as I stand on my toes, softly pressing my lips to his cheek, his skin noticeably getting warmer before I pull away.
Just when I thought I'd gotten over being uncomfortable around the boys I do this, like this isn't going to make it awkward tomorrow.