Itâs a beautiful thing to see.
The cake itself is so perfect that I know Leah picked it out: half chocolate and half vanilla, because I can never commit to a favorite, and covered in that weirdly delicious Publix icing. And no red icing. Leah knows I think it tastes too red.
Leahâs really amazing at birthdays.
I bring the leftovers to rehearsal, and Ms. Albright lets us have a cake picnic on the stage. And by cake picnic, I mean drama kids hunched over the box like vultures shoveling cake by the fistful.
âOhmigod, I think I just gained five pounds,â says Amy Everett.
âAww,â says Taylor, âI guess Iâm lucky I have a really fast metabolism.â
Seriously, thatâs Taylor. I mean, even I know people can justifiably kill you for saying stuff like that.
And speaking of cake-related casualties: Martin Addison is sprawled out on the stage with his face in the empty cake box.
Ms. Albright steps over him. âAll right, guys. Hop to it. Pencils out. I want you writing this stuff down in your scripts.â
I donât mind the writing. The scene weâre blocking takes place in a tavern, and Iâm basically just making notes reminding myself to act drunk. Itâs kind of too bad these arenât the notesweâll be tested on for our finals. That would really improve some peopleâs grades.
We push through without a break today, but Iâm not in every scene, so I actually have quite a bit of downtime. There are risers pushed to the side of the stage left over from a choir concert. I sit near the bottom and rest my elbows on top of my knees. Sometimes I forget how nice it is to just sit back and watch things.
Martin is standing downstage left, telling a story to Abby and using lots of twitchy gestures. Sheâs shaking her head and laughing. So maybe Martin hasnât given up after all.
And suddenly Cal Price is standing in front of me, nudging my foot with the toe of his sneaker. âHey,â he says. âHappy birthday.â
This is a happy birthday.
He sits beside me on the riser, a foot or so away. âDoing anything to celebrate?â
Oh.
Okay. I donât want to lie. But I donât exactly want him to know that my plans consist of hanging out with my family and reading birthday messages on Facebook. Itâs a Monday, right? Iâm not actually expected to do anything cool on a Monday.
âYeah, I guess so,â I say finally. âI think weâre having ice cream cake. Oreo,â I add.
I just have to put the Oreo thing out there.
âThatâs cool,â he says. âHope you saved room for it.â
No discernible reaction to the Oreos. But I guess that doesnât have to mean anything.
âOkay, well,â Cal says, scooting forward. I will him not to stand up. He stands up. âEnjoy it.â
But then he puts his hand on my shoulder for the briefest fraction of a second. I almost donât believe it happened.
I mean, Iâm dead serious. Birthdays are fucking amazing.
10
FROM:
[email protected] TO:
[email protected] DATE: Nov 18 at 4:15 AM
SUBJECT: Why why why?
Oh my God, Blue, Iâm so tired my face hurts. Do you ever have those random nights where your brain wonât shut off, even though your body feels like five hundred pounds of exhausted? Iâm just going to email you and I hope thatâs okay and I know this is probably going to be totally incoherent so you canât judge me, okay? Even if I fuck up my grammar. Youâre like the best writer, Blue, and normally I try to check everything like three timesbecause I donât want to disappoint you. So sorry in advance for all the wreckage with your youâre there their theyâre and everything else.
Today has been pretty freaking great actually. Iâm trying not to think about what a zombie Iâll be tomorrow. Of course I have five quizzes in the next two days including one in une autre