Sommerstall Academy

She’s sorry it slipped her mind? They were busy with work? That’s the excuse they give me for ditching me on my birthday?

I’d usually just accept that and make up a better excuse for them myself but after spending the evening with a proper family, I don’t feel like doing that. Sure, people forget things sometimes and that’s okay but my parents didn’t even seem to care. Honestly, what have I done for them to care so little? How come everyone seems to like me more than my own family? Even a group of strangers I met today went out of their way to buy me a cake! I don’t even expect that from my mom and dad, I don’t care about it but is a little affection too much to ask for? Some interest in my life, maybe a hug? Nope, nothing!

I park my Vespa in our garage and wipe away my tears, furious to have let it get to me as much. With Elija, it’s fine to feel whatever I do but here it’s different. All this will get me here is a comment about how puffy my eyes are and maybe a lecture.

And I’ve never even noticed how messed up my family was until now. I always thought it was fine. So what if I’m alone more than I’m not? Who cares if they’re emotionally a little detached and distant at times? They’re good parents, aren’t they?

I’m not so sure they are anymore. Not as I step into the silent, cold house I grew up in.

Elija’s home might not be as big or clean as this but at least it’s lively. It feels like a home. This feels like an open house.

‘I’m home,’ I announce. When there’s no reply, I check my phone.

Dad: Went to bed. Lock the door when you’re home, please. Happy birthday

I bite down on the inside of my cheek and blink back tears. It’s fine, I repeat. They had a long day and were tired.

I lock the front door before going into the room and doing the same there. Then I cry silently, allowing myself to feel bad for one evening. Crying on my birthday, why not?

I don’t bother checking the notifications that keep lighting up my phone. When it rings, startling the flip out of me, I do pick it up.

‘Florence? Are you home? You haven’t answered my texts, I was worried,’ Elija tells me. Dang it, I think as I swallow a sob. Why does he have to be so sweet? It only seems to add to the ache in my chest. I wish I hadn’t come home. It’s not like my parents would have known.

‘Florence?’ Elija asks again when I don’t answer for a while. Knowing he’d hear that I’ve been crying, I end the call and text him.

Me: I’m home.

He reads my message and calls me again. I press decline.

Me: I don’t want to wake my parents

He doesn’t seem to care since he calls again.

Elija: Pick up, Florence.

I swallow around the lump in m throat and answer the next time he calls.

‘Talk to me,’ he says softly. I shake my head even though he can’t see me. I don’t want him to know I’m crying again. Not after he’s done everything to make sure I had a great birthday. ‘Florence, say something please.’

I clear my throat roughly before whispering, ‘Hi.’ The line’s silent for a beat.

‘Do you want me to come over?’ he asks.

‘It’s fine, really. Just go to sleep, we have school tomorrow,’ I tell him, hating how hoarse my voice sounds.

‘I honestly don’t give a shit about school, Florence. Not when you’re crying on your birthday because your parents are idiots.’

‘It’s fine, they were just tired.’ I wince as the words leave my lips. The excuse sounds lame even to me. I can hear Elija huff before he takes a deep breath.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ he finally asks.

‘You did so much today. Thank you. And thank your family from me, please,’ I tell him.

‘If I tell them that one more time, they’ll stop believing me, Florence.’ I can hear him laugh on the other line and smile to myself.

‘Fair. Well, good night, see you tomorrow,’ I tell him.

‘Sleep well and ’till tomorrow.’

With that, I try to sleep, thinking about the good parts of today and a certain dark-haired guy they included.

–

‘Good morning, Sweetie,’ my mom greets me in the morning. I see we’re just ignoring what happened yesterday, nice to know.

‘Morning. Why aren’t you at work?’ I ask her.

‘Careful, you almost sound like you’re not glad I’m home,’ she tells me with a smile. That’s because I’m not, I think. I’d never say something like that to her though.

‘I’m just wondering.’

‘I know, Honey. I’m just here to pack your father and my things up while he finishes some last-minute work in the office. We’re leaving for a business trip and won’t be back until next Tuesday.’ Business trip my ass. I keep my quiet though, used to it by now. She wants to call her vacations business trips? I let them. She wants to pretend my birthday didn’t happen? Fine by me.

‘Okay,’ is all I say. I meant to grab breakfast in the kitchen but I head back to my room instead since I really don’t feel like talking any longer. I’ll just wait until lunch.

I get ready, making sure to pack my book, and head off to school.

‘Flower girl! How was your birthday?’ Jamie asks, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

‘It was really nice, thanks,’ I reply automatically. When Jamie lets me go, the other guys each take their turn hugging me. I’m not one to complain though, hugs are everything.

When it comes to Liam, it’s a bit awkward. ‘Hey,’ he says, scratching the back of his neck. Trying to diffuse the tension, I decide to hug him as well.

He’s a little stiff but hugs me back. After a second, he pulls me tighter, and unless I’m mistaken, he breathes me in. Okay, weird? I look at Elija over Liam’s shoulder to see his jaw clenched. I try to smile at him but he’s busy glaring at his non-friend’s back. I feel like I missed something.

When I’m finally able to free myself from him, Elija steps forward. Without a warning, he cups my face and presses his lips to mine. It’s not as gentle as the goodbye I got yesterday. I can feel Elija’s anger but somehow, I really don’t mind. Instead, I melt into the touch.

‘Get a room!’ Orion’s comment rips me from my trance and I realize we’re still at school. Not that many students are already in the classroom but still. With a chuckle, I take a step back.

‘Good to know you two finally grew some balls,’ Benji says with a smile.

As more students start taking their seats, Elija gently takes my hand and pulls me into a chair next to his. I smile at him, happy with the new seating arrangement even though it’ll be a lot harder to focus with his hand on my thigh.