Something Complicated

One week before

Eighteen is not just a number.

Eighteen is a rite of passage. A monumental stage.

Those who claim they never counted the days until they turn eighteen are lying. Because hello, I cannot wait for my birthday on Sunday.

To make myself clear, it's not because I look forward to finally having a later curfew, or having my own credit card, or finally being able to purchase my own car. It's more of being old enough to feel independent.

It's being old enough to feel free.

I also believe in the saying that something life-changing is bound to happen once you turn eighteen.

That is why I made a plan for my special day: cook dinner for my friends and family, watch Legally Blonde and Princess Diaries with said friends and family, and go to the bookstore the next morning. It's just a simple plan, until my best friend decided to spoil the fun by throwing me a party. I never wanted a party but Brandon insisted on planning one for me.

Brandon Castillo is my best friend. He came to my life one Sunday afternoon when he and his family moved to America from the Philippines when he's seven. He's the only Filipino kid, apart from me, in our community at that time. I found him cute back then, but he's cuter now.

Brandon is distributing the invitations to some of my friends in school when he sees me approaching.  His hair is gel-free today so his curls are out-of-place.

"Can't wait for Sunday?" He asks while wrapping his arms around me. He loves hugging me like I am his sister. I am just six months younger, but he makes me feel like our age difference is ten. Brandon is protective and strict.

"Totally," I say with less enthusiasm. Brandon knows that I am not into parties, but he's pretty insistent this time. Maybe because my mom pushed him to. I am her only daughter, and it's every Filipino mother's dream to plan a debut for her girl. After weeks of pleading, I agreed with a condition that the party must be simple and different from the traditional debut.

"I promise you, Jenny. You'll love the party," He says before giving me another hug.

"God, Jen. You're such a bad actress," It's Cacay, my closest female friend in school. We became friends because she is a Potterhead and a self-confessed Jane Austen addict like me.

"I'm excited, can't you see?" I say, smiling wide enough for them to see my teeth.

"Fake," She states matter-of-factly. "Anyway, I want a milkshake. Let's go buy a milkshake."
Cacay grabs me by the arm and pulls me away from Brandon. She swings my arm strong enough for me to lose my balance—and for me to bump into Stefan Manzano, who throws me a surprised glance.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"You okay?" He asks as he takes a step back. Stefan's tall, about 6'0. He towers over me so I look like a kid beside him.

"Yeah," I bob my head lightly. Brandon takes a step closer and rests a hand on my back.
Stefan shoots him a glance before whispering, "Okay, just be careful next time."

When Stefan's out of earshot, Brandon tugs my arm as a way of asking if I'm fine. I smile to assure him that I am.

"You know, he's hot, but he's taken. So no, thank you." Cacay, as expected, comments. "Come on. You have to buy me a milkshake. You're turning eighteen, and good things happen when you're eighteen."

Good things happen when you're eighteen.

"Sounds good to me," I smile at her.