Birthday Girl

Then he chuckles, and my muscles relax, so grateful. That would’ve been embarrassing if he’d heard me.

I move to close the window again, but I see him grab something out of a dish on the garden table and put it in his mouth as he continues listening to whoever is on the phone.

I stop, my eyes widening as I watch him light a cigar butt. The hair on my neck stands on end, and my pulse races. I yank the shutter closed, not caring if he hears me.

What the hell? I haven’t seen him smoke. Why would that have popped in my…?

I charge back to my room, close the door, and pull off the lingerie. Donning a T-shirt and boy shorts, I turn off the music, the light, and climb into bed.

Cam and her stupid, damn subliminal messages and shit. Thanks a lot.

“Hey, Corinne. Is my dad home?” I ask into the phone.

I hear my stepmom move on the other end, a screen door creaking open. “Chip!” she hollers, her voice raspy from years of smoking. “It’s Jordan!”

The door creaks shut again, and I think I hear the fryer going in the kitchen. I can almost feel the grainy linoleum under my feet from here. I’m so glad to be out of that trailer, even if it means mooching off Cole’s dad.

“You need money?” she says as I wait for my dad to come to the phone. “’Cause we don’t have any. Your dad threw out his back and missed some work a couple weeks ago, so things are tight right now.”

I blink. “No, I…” I stammer, aggravated by her question. “I don’t need money.”

And they would be the last people I’d ask if I did. My father never has cash for more than a day before it’s burning a hole in his pocket. One of the many reasons my mom ran out.

But at least my dad stayed.

“Chip?!” she calls again but then growls at the dogs. “Get out of the way, you two.”

I shake my head, the previous suspicion that a text would’ve been better now solidifying. If my dad does make it to the phone, I’ll just hang up feeling pissed off that he’s about as warm as this woman. Thank goodness she wasn’t my stepmom for long under that roof. I left as soon as I could.

“I just wanted to let you all know I moved,” I tell her. “In case you need my new address.”

“Oh, right, right.” I hear her suck in and know she’s smoking. “You moved in with Cole at his dad’s house. Yeah, we heard.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Chip!” she screeches again, interrupting me.

I hood my eyes, exasperated already. “It’s fine,” I tell her. “That’s all I called for, so don’t bother Dad then if he already knows. I’ll…talk to you later.”

“Okay.” She blows out smoke. “Well, take care of yourself, and I’ll call in a week or so. Have you over for dinner or something.”

My body shakes with a bitter laugh I hold back. It’s not funny. It’s sad, really. But she hangs up without waiting for me to say ‘goodbye’, and I let out a sigh, tossing my phone on the bed.

Neither my dad nor stepmom are bad people, although no one called on my birthday, either.

I was never hit or starved or verbally abused. Just kind of forgotten, I guess. They struggled for anything good in life, so it was too much to ask to let responsibility or concern for their children interfere with what tiny pleasure they managed to muster with their beer and Bingo nights.

After Cam left and got her own place, I had no one to talk to. I was nobody in that trailer, and I never want to feel that alone again.

I pick up my notebook from the bed and resume the homework from my summer class that day. My textbook lays open in front of me, and I click my mechanical pencil to get more lead.

A knock sounds on the bedroom door, and I pop my head up, tensing.

“Come in?” I say, but it sounds like a question. Cole wouldn’t knock. It must be his father. Did I leave laundry in the dryer? The stove on? I go through my mental checklist.

The door swings open, and Pike stands there, holding the knob but keeping himself planted in the hallway.

“I’m ordering pizza for dinner,” he tells me. “Is Cole going to be home soon?”