Wednesday is Ben’s eighteenth birthday. Our families celebrate every birthday together, but I’m not sure about this one.
“I don’t think he wants me there,” I admit.
“Nonsense. You can’t miss it. It’s his eighteenth birthday. I won’t have either of you looking back on this day and regretting you not being there. This too shall pass, but memories of days like this last forever.”
I think about what she’s saying, and of course, she’s right, again. We’ve literally spent every birthday together. How could I not be there for his eighteenth?
“Okay, I’ll be there. Thank you, Sandy.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, hoping she knows her son better than I do because I’m still not sure if he’ll ever forgive me.
I don’t even try to get my hopes up for Ben showing up to give me a ride to school, so before I can even search for his car, I start mine and back out of the driveway.
As luck would have it, I pull onto the road directly behind Dalton with someone who looks like Ben in the front seat.
Dalton signals he sees me by flipping on what he calls fuck-you lights that are installed on his bumper. He said they are to flash someone who is tailgating him, but I’m glad to see they are getting another purpose here instead.
We drive to school, and I park next to his massive truck, my little red Range Rover Sport looking like a ladybug next to his beast. I purposefully park on Dalton’s driver’s side so I won’t have to see Ben first.
When I hop out of the car, I walk toward Dalton, who wraps his arm around me.
“How’s our pretty little fourth wheel doing this morning?”
I laugh and push at him. He hasn’t called me that in years. When we were little, there were times when he and Eli didn’t want me around because I was a girl, but Ben always stood up to them and said I could hang out.
When my eyes meet Ben’s, I realize he said it to get under Ben’s skin. By the expression on his face, it worked.
I try to push past this weirdness between us and ask, “Where’s your truck?”
“It’s getting an oil change today, so Dalton gave me a ride,” he responds without really looking at me before he heads toward the school, not waiting for either of us.
I take a step to follow him, but Dalton stops me.
“Just give him time.”
I exhale a shaky breath. “He hates me.”
He laughs out loud. “Believe me, he doesn’t hate you. He just has some shit to work through.”
I purse my lips as I glance over to where he is still walking by himself, which is so not like him.
I look back to Dalton, and it’s obvious that he feels sorry for me.
He wraps his arm around me again. “Come on. Don’t be so down. I’ll let you call me Dalt today if it makes you happy.”
I chuckle under my breath. He’s always hated that I called him that, and he swears up and down that I’m the only person he will ever allow to do so.
He nudges me forward, and we walk into school like this even though it gets us the side-eye when Ben watches us enter the school from where he’s sitting on the couch.
Ben
“Seriously, Ben, what crawled up your ass?” Dalton asks when we enter the locker room. “You’ve been in a mood all day, especially when it came to Maya. She’s already been through a lot. Give her some slack.”
“Leave it alone,” I state with a sense of finality hoping he gets the point. He doesn’t.
“I know you got some shit going on in your head, but you can’t take it out on her.”