Page 31 of Unspoken Words
I glanced down at my blue Chucks, bright purple ballerina skirt, yellow t-shirt, and rainbow-striped tights with a matching bow, and then beamed a smile that would hurt a clown’s face. “Thanks. I add something colourful to my birthday outfit every year. I started when I was seven.”
“It’s her tribute to Rainbow Brite,” Mum added as she stepped up behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Please, come in.”
Stepping aside, I gave Mr and Mrs Bourke a quick hug to welcome them then waited for Connor to follow behind, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he just stood at the threshold of my house, as if he were a vampire waiting for permission to enter.
“Happy birthday, Ellie.”
I met his eyes. “Thanks.”
Connor tentatively held out a present wrapped in brightly coloured paper, so I didn’t hesitate and snatched it from him, franticly tearing it open.
“What is it? I love presents so much. They’re the best. Unless they’re crap, then they’re not the best.” My eyebrows took off like rockets when I realised what he’d got me. “But OH MY GOD this one is definitely not crap!”
Holding the two Christopher Pike books I hadn’t been able to borrow from my school library in the air like trophies, I flapped them about and bounced up and down on the spot. “Where did you get these?”
He winked. “Mum has connections.”
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.” Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. My face flushed instantly, and I snapped my body backwards, my mouth the perfect ‘o’ shape, my eyes frozen wide.
I wanted to die.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled but shifted awkwardly on the spot. “Listen, I just want to say that I’m really sorry for how I acted the other day. I shouldn’t have just left you like that—”
I swished my hand in front of his face. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m over it.”
“Huh?” He scratched his head just like his dad had done. “How can you be ‘over’ it? Girls areneverjust over it.”
“It’s my birthday, silly, the best day of the year. I don’t let anyone or anything ruin my birthday. Ever. So, yeah, Sorry McSaddy Head, but I’m over being angry with you.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “Come on. Come and see what else I got.”
Bounding up the stairs, Connor close behind, we entered my bedroom, which resembled a small library: books, books, and more books, housed in white bookshelves lining two of my four walls.
“Wow!” Connor exclaimed, stopping in his tracks. “I knew you liked books, but this is—”
“Awesome!”
“I was gonna say full-on, but awesome will do.”
I shrugged but smiled proudly.
“You should be one of those house decorator people.”
His eyes roamed my room, so I flopped onto my bed, which was also white and jutted out from the only wall without books, except it did have books—pictures of books—framed and randomly positioned around posters of the beach and Madonna.
“A decorator? You think?”
“Yeah. You can start with my room.”
“Maybe I will. Your room was pretty boring. It could definitely do with a little more … colour.”
“I take back my offer. Boys rooms should not be colourful.”
“Sure they should.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’m happy with boring.”
Stretching back, I grabbed my new pizza pillow. “I got this from Chris. It’s a pillow shaped as a pizza.”
I frisbeed it in his direction and he caught it and held it up. “Cool.”
