Page 50 of Saving Sparrow
“Oh yeah, the kitchen!” He rolled off the bed, holding a hand out for me. “Let’s go make something to eat.”
Quentin dragged me out of the room, buzzing with excitement. Miguel took my other hand, both leading me down the back stairs.
“Surprise!” they shouted as we entered the kitchen. Balloons filled the ceiling, and a huge chocolate cake sat on the island with gifts surrounding it.
“What’s all this for?” I took in all the decorations scattered around.
“You didn’t think we’d let your sweet-eighteenth pass by without a party, did you?” Quentin asked. “The food should be here any minute. I did delivery instead of pickup. I wanted to hurry home.”
I wanted to look into his eyes when he’d said that, to see if his expression was as sweet as his words. I couldn’t stop staring at the kitchen, though, at everything they’d done forme.
I’d been secretly counting down to my birthday because it meant I’d be free of my aunt. We’d be meeting with the attorney first thing in the morning to sign all the paperwork. She wanted everything except the house she and my mother grew up in. I didn’t know what I’d do with it. Probably just forget it ever existed.
Quentin and Miguel hadn’t mentioned my birthday since I told them the date months ago. I didn’t care. My birthday had never been something I celebrated anyway. Or maybe I just thought I didn’t care. Maybe deep down that also explained why I’d been grumpy and extra needy today.
“It was hard pretending we forgot,” Miguel said. “Are you surprised?”
“I hope you like chocolate,” Quentin followed up with before I could answer. He fingered a scoop of frosting off the edge before sucking it clean.
“Yes, to both.” I sounded choked up. It was hard not to be when it felt like my heart was stuck in my throat.
“Are you sure?” Miguel asked. “We can go out instead or order a different cake. I have a feeling this one is more for Quentin anyway,” he said dryly as Quentin looked up from the cake guiltily.
“I… I’ve never had a party before,” I admitted, afraid that any second I’d wake up and find out this was all a dream. My dreams were never this good, though. They were nightmares filled with pain and fire and voices I didn’t recognize, with God and hell, angels and demons.
That seemed to make Miguel sad, and Quentin’s cheek twitched as they shared a look.
“Well,”—Quentin gave me a smile that didn’t touch his green eyes—“we’ll have to throw you a party every day for the rest of the month, then.”
“Does that mean you’ll have to be gone again?” I sounded panicked, and this time Quentin’s smile took over every part of his handsome face.
“It means I’m taking you with me next time, pretty girl.”
My heart settled back in place, but it felt bigger now, filled with Miguel and Quentin’s goodness.
The doorbell rang. “Food’s here.” Quentin took off for the front door.
Miguel waved me over to the cake. I sat on the stool across from him, swiping a finger through the frosting and licking it like I’d seen Quentin do.
“It’s good, right?” Miguel did the same. I nodded, too worried I’d cry if I spoke right then.
Quentin dumped numerous bags onto the kitchen counter, pulling cartons of food out.
“Geesh,” Miguel griped. “How many wings did you buy? There’s only the three of us.”
“I didn’t know which flavor Elliott would want, so I got all twenty.”
“He’s fired,” Miguel mouthed at me, and I laughed quietly.
“¿Quieres abrir tus regalos primero?” he asked after catching me staring at the presents.
“Yes.Si,” I answered, digging through what Spanish I’d taught myself so far.
Quentin groaned, taking up the stool next to me. “Someone wanna translate that for me?”
Miguel handed me the smallest present first. “He wants to open his gifts before eating.” It was wrapped in metallic pink paper and tied with a sheer white bow. “This one’s from me.”
I took my time untying the bow and then removing the tape along the edges of the wrapping paper. I didn’t want to rip it. I planned on saving everything.
