Page 117 of We Shouldn't Be Together
She clasps her hands and rocks on the balls of her feet. “Do you do anything special to mark the day?”
I rub the back of my head. “Not really. Just hanging out with my friends, as usual.”
“You do nothing with your family?”
I blow out a breath and unintentionally slip into a smile. “Yeah, Mom wouldn’t tolerate me ditching them on my birthday.”
“Well, it’s your brother’s birthday too, right? Do you have a shared cake?”
“Yeah. A big one. Easy to dunk Milo’s face into it.”
She clicks her tongue. “You don’t, do you?”
I smirk. “Another thing my mom wouldn’t tolerate.”
Tabitha giggles. “She sounds like a good mom.”
“Not according to your dad,” I joke.
She hisses. “Sorry about that. Once he has an impression of someone, it’s hard for him to shake it. I hope your mom isn’t taking it to heart.”
“It’s not the first lecture she’s gotten from him.” Probably not the last either. I still need to get these stitches out, and there’s only so much I can do to avoid Dr. Jones in his hospital. “What’s your family like? Do they make a big fuss over birthdays?”
“We try to.” Tabitha nods, moving around the shoe section. “Freddy, of course, has a huge party. Drew used to have friends over, but that has happened less and less. Come to think of it, I don’t think we did anything for his birthday last year.”
“Oh, that’s rough.”
“Yeah, he left home early, and we didn’t see him for the rest of the day.”
“He’s a real lone wolf, huh?”
“He’s a good brother,” she blurts. “But yes, he can be hard to read. Anyway, we have the quintessential birthday experience with Corbin. He still has the party hats, streamers, face painting, and all the fun games.”
“Do you get roped into helping with his little friends?”
“Yeah, but I don’t mind. Reminds me of my middle school parties.”
“And what is your birthday like these days?”
She smiles. “Do you want tips on how to make your birthday more fun?”
I shrug. “No, I’m just interested.”
I note the blush growing across her olive complexion. “Umm, it’s nothing too wild. I have a party because my friends would think I’m a freak if I didn’t.”
“The same friends that slap you across the face?”
The comment takes the wind out of her sails. Her chin drops, and she stares at me with glossy eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I rush. “I didn’t mean it.”
She slowly nods. “Yes, you did.”
“Okay, I did. But, it’s true, isn’t it?”
She swallows hard and nods again.
“Tabby, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just don’t know why you’re friends with those girls.”
