Something Complicated

Chapter One: Of best friends and awkward kisses

Few minutes from now my 18th birthday will be over. I excused myself from the guests to go to my room. I have to get the simple thank you gift I wrapped for Brandon, who is as busy as my mom in making sure my party would turn out to be a blast.

Brandon's my best friend in the whole wide world. We've known each other since second grade. I used to hate his stinky socks, but I hung out with him because of his mom's butternut cookies. After he punched my classmate for bullying me and my bushy hair, we started to become "real" friends. Since then, we're inseparable.

Thinking of what to give Brandon is not as difficult as buying a gift for the other men in my life, a.k.a. my grandfather and my dad. They both have everything in life, and I can't think of something that would make them smile and say "Thank you Jennifer for your gift. It's what I need." Even though they will still appreciate whatever I give them, I still want to, well, at least, surprise them. But with Brandon, it's pretty easy as easy as you spell the word easy. I know his likes, dislikes, his dreams, what excites him, or what ticks him. He's like an open book to me. No secrets, no lies, just honesty and pure friendship.

And he knows me just as much for him to throw me a bohemian-inspired party for my 18th birthday. He knows I never wanted the traditional Filipino debut—all pink with 18 candles and roses. He knows that I wanted it as low key as possible. So together with my mom, Brandon invited some of my friends and relatives, and planned details such as food and set-up. That's why as my thank you gift for him, I got Brandon the new version of his favorite video game, Call of Duty: Black Ops, which he can play non-stop as his older brother (and technically the one taking the parental role now) is gone for a week on a business trip. Both of his parents are back in our home country, the Philippines, to start a business.

Maybe he can stay tonight though. We still have to binge-watch the sixth season of White Collar. Guess I have to ask mom and dad.

I am busy rummaging through my closet to find the black laced top I bought the other day, when I hear three fast knocks. I don't need to ask to know who it is.

"Come in," I say, quite cheerfully.

"Hi there, birthday girl," Brandon winks at me as he lies down on my bed. "How's the party going?"

"Brandon, you've asked me that question for like five times already."

"I know," He takes one pillow and hugs it like it's his long lost friend. "But I want to make sure you're enjoying your party, as in really enjoying, not acting like you're enjoying."

"Well, the ham and cheese pizza is the bomb, and the indie pop, rock stuff you play is nice," I sit on top of my bed and tousle his hair. "And there's booze. Booze! You made my parents agree to have booze at my party."

He laughs at that, and I do, too. I'm straight-edge Jen who never smoked a cigarette or drank a bottle of beer until tonight when my mom kind of allowed me to drink just one bottle of light beer. For a first time drinker, I'm proud of myself for still being able to think and walk straight.

"So for that, thank you," I put a hand on top of his head and give him a peck on the right cheek. He seems quite surprised by it, but suddenly he's not because he throws a pillow at my face. And it ruins my lipstick, which stains my newly-changed pillow cover.

"Not funny, Castillo."

"Ooooh, she's pissed. She's calling me by my last name," Brandon teases.

"It's still 11:30, and to remind you, it's still my birthday, which means all your teasing is invalid until this day expires," I say, sounding defensive as usual.

"As you say, birthday girl," He sits up and holds both his hands up like a prisoner.

"Good boy."