Page 53 of Dire Straights

There was so much I wanted to say to that, but I only shoved my phone in my pocket and kept walking.

By the time I turned into the driveway to the house, I was seething. The curtain of the window next to the front door shifted as I approached, like someone had been looking out of it. Probably Caelyx. The guy was so weird sometimes. He was starting to grow on me, though. A little.

I stuck my key in the door, shoving it open when the lock disengaged, prepared to stomp into my room and sulk.

“Surprise!” A chorus of the word rang out into the air, poppers spraying confetti out onto the floor. The room wasfilled with balloons and streamers, and there was a banner hung across a wall that saidHappy birthday, Maddox. Ren, Aspen, Arie, Che, Caelyx, Cyprian, and even Kelani were there, in various levels of celebratory dress.

Adrenaline coursed through me at the shock, and I could only stare and blink. The frustration and anger and misery I’d felt just moments before welled up into a bubble and popped, leaving only faint traces inside me.

“Your birthday was on one of the papers on your desk,” Ren explained, giving me a tiny wave from across the room. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was coming up so soon!”

He wasn’t with someone else, and he hadn’t really lied. Well, he had lied, but it was because he’d been doing something nice for me. The sheer relief of that knowledge, that I wasn’t losing the main thing in my life that was making me happy, was almost overwhelming. I hadn’t realized how devastated I’d actually been by the possibility that he was doing something behind my back.

“Holy shit.” It was all I could say at the moment without embarrassing myself. “This is great, but I’m about to piss myself so let me run to the bathroom really quick,” I requested, before scurrying there and locking the door behind me.

Flipping the toilet lid down, I collapsed onto it, pressing my palms into my eyes, my breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. I could actually feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. But I didn’t know why, or how to fix it. So I just kept reminding myself over and over that everything was fine and Ren hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d actually remembered my birthday. And he and my friends had put together this silly little glittery party with colorful decorations, just to show me they liked me. Even Kelani was here, for some reason.

Eventually, I could breathe again. Splashing cold water on my face to help steady me and get rid of any puffiness, I tooka deep breath before retreating back out into the festive living room.

“Sorry about that,” I apologized, but no one seemed to mind.

“Here, you have to wear your sash,” Arie commanded, prancing over to me and putting a colorful, glittery birthday sash over one of my shoulders. It was like something that a bride would wear for her bachelorette party, but I was so touched by everyone’s presence, I didn’t even complain. Even though I’d probably never be able to fully wash every particle of glitter off.

It was not what anyone would consider a cool, mature, or sophisticated college party. There was no beer (not that any of us were old enough to buy or drink it, anyway) and no people fucking in empty rooms. But it was exactly what I needed at that moment. Throughout everything, Ren practically clung to my arm, watching everyone like a hawk as if to make absolutely sure everything went perfectly and smoothly.

Everyone got me little gifts. Nothing huge or awe-inspiring, but it was all cute and useful. Even Caelyx, though his present came with a sarcastic jibe about what a cute little birthday boy I was. When he asked when the clown would be arriving, I responded that he already lived here.

I wasn’t sure what gift to expect from Ren. He really didn’t have to get me anything. His existence and how much peace and happiness he brought me was probably enough, but it’s not like I could say that out loud.

I was glad when it turned out to not be anything mushy or cheesy that would embarrass me.

“It’s the fudge you wanted to try on the boardwalk,” he explained when I just stared down into the box. I knew that. It was a huge sample box, a little cube for every flavor they had. “I thought maybe we could try them together. Is that lame?” He finally asked, giving a nervous little chuckle.

“No, it’s not lame.” I said. “I can’t believe you even remember I was looking at that.”

“Of course I remember!” He said, sounding relieved that I didn’t hate the gift.

Kelani got me something small, a gift card to Luciano’s, the pizza restaurant that everyone liked going to. I suspected Ren had tipped her off that we went there a lot.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” I told her honestly after thanking her for the card.

“Well,” she started, sounding awkward. “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve acted toward you. It’s just that I’ve heard really bad things about the guys on your team, and I assumed you were like them, so… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, admiring the way she could apologize so easily. I wasn’t the greatest at that. “If you thought I was like them, then I totally understand why you didn’t want anything to do with me. Believe me, I can’t stand them either.”

She told me a few stories about guys on the team, how they’d do vile shit like getting girls drunk at parties to make them easier to hook up with, and sharing nudes of girls without their consent. Like I’d said, I didn’t blame her for having an issue with me based on her assumption. I was just glad she knew now that I wasn’t like that.

Cyprian had helped with food, apparently throwing pork in the slow cooker as soon as I’d walked out the door and letting it simmer in some delicious special sauce all day, which made for some pretty damn good sandwiches. He’d also made a sinfully delicious pan of baked mac and cheese, and a big bowl of fancy salad, with walnuts and chunks of pear and avocado. It was still kind of amazing that a guy that looked like him could crank out these meals that tasted like they were made by a grandma who’d been chained to the stove her whole life.

I offered to help pay for some of the food, but he steadfastly declined, letting me know everyone had chipped in and he’d gotten a lot of it on sale anyway. As he made plates and passed them around to everyone, Che approached him.

“What do you want on your plate?” Cyprian asked.

“Why don’t you make me one like you would make for yourself?” Che suggested. He was wearing a pale blue knit sweater with tiny hearts stitched into it. With his soft voice, questionable clothing choices, and big eyes, he reminded me of a cartoon kitten drawn by a toddler. As far as I could tell, that seemed to be a fairly accurate description of his demeanor, too.

When Cyprian complied and tried handing it over, Che shook his head and pushed the plate back into his hands.

“Now you go sit down, and I’ll take care of the rest,” he said. “You’ve done enough.”

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