Free Trailer Park Princess by Delia Steele, J. J. Williams Page A

going to chunk this old keyboard, so he brought it over to me.” There. Maybe that will be enough…
    “WHY? Why would Rome just randomly bring you a keyboard? And how did he know you played?” Seriously, he is this upset?  “I mean, come on, Rory; it’s not like it’s your birthday!”
    The line goes silent. I almost think he has hung up, but then I hear his breath suck in. I never lied to him, and I never will; however, I’m known to withhold information when I see fit.
    “AURORA WILDE! Please tell me it’s not your birthday…” I say nothing. If I don’t speak, I cannot tell a lie. “Oh-Em-Gee, Rory, seriously? How did I not know that? Now, I feel like a loser. All this time together, and I have never once asked you. Well, crown me king douche canoe!” You said it, not me, dude! I can tell he’s crushed, the keyboard gift forgotten for the moment.
    I’m not sure why Toby is so worried about Rome; he knows we are friends, and he knows it’s him that I love.   I tell him this and dismiss his not knowing, blaming myself and making him promise no surprises. I get myself ready for work and actually pout when I have to leave my keyboard.  You would think it was made of gold, but in reality, it’s more precious to me than gold ever could be. It’s who I am, and I have missed it more than I let myself believe.

    Things are slow over the next few days. Nothing eventful. I got a few snide comments from the garbage pail kids when they came in the diner, I picked up a few extra shifts so Thax could afford his field trip with the school, and I had a few dirty dances with those plastic ivory-want-to-be keys on my life support machine, aka keyboard. Rome’s worked a lot, and Toby’s been busy with spring training. I guess I should have thought about Toby first, but I didn’t. Oh well, no biggie, right?  Amandolette has worked herself into a full-blown tizzy. She is getting her designs and presentation together for her college interview. I cannot believe she is really going to be an interior designer for the rich and bitchy one day. Reality is I will likely never leave The Diner. Which is fine. I am comfortable there, and I can afford to survive and keep Thax up without Carol. Where is she anyways? It’s been days, maybe even a week, since I saw her last. The bird chirping text alert pulls my attention back to the now.
      Mando- Mom’s going to schedule you off tomorrow. We have a date, ghetto superstar.   Me + you= prom dress shopping and mall hopping. NO is not an option.  See ya morrow 4ish Peace out Double oh pickle
    Double oh Pickle? I cannot help but laugh at her weird quirk. She knows I cannot buy anything grand, but she makes the experience fun, and that is what counts. I have, however, saved to have my nails done. Not that fake tiger-looking mess but the plain Jane cut-and-shine to my real McCoy’s. I wonder why she wants to go so soon; it’s like a month till prom, her senior and my junior. I’d bank my last check she is planning to do her dress up big and make one last “DID YOU SEE MANDO?” moment. I will go simple, my normal thrift couture as always, but hers will be altered and made to match with her shoes, I’m sure.
    Prom is another bittersweet moment for me. I am excited, but it’s the last big night for us as a group. I wish Rome was still in school so he could go with us. I will miss Toby and Mando so much when they leave for college in August.  I’ll have to hang around another year to finish up my senior year, graduating alone as a 19-year-old. No college plans are in my future. Nope, the only thing I will be planning is my supper that night. Oh yeah, and figuring out my second job options if I don’t get a full-time position at The Diner.   I cannot hate them for moving on. I love them both for giving me memories worth having. Toby and Mando…those two are the loves of my life. My guy and my BFE! (Best Friend Eva as Mando would say) Luckily, I won’t be alone, like alone