The Memory Playlist

Sixteen Candles

Niki.

"Good morning, beautiful birthday girl," Andy murmurs as I start stretching.

I smile as I let my arm fall back over his chest. I sit up and kiss him, and he just smiles in that way that he does with all his teeth. He turns us over and holds my face in his hand as we kiss.

"Such a nice wake up call," I tease.

He smiles his wide smile again. "I don't mind waking you up like that," he says. His voice is low and gravelly from the early hour and I swim in the sound.

I smile and kiss him once before sitting up and stretching again, my shoulders popping. Andy sits up with me and kisses my shoulder blade, the nape of my neck as I lift my hair to shake it out, my neck, my shoulder, the hinge of my jaw, my cheek. I giggle as his kisses fall and he only smiles between them. "You're looking just as beautiful as you do every morning. I'd say you look more beautiful, but I swear I think that every morning."

I supress another giggle at his words. "You're such a sweet boy," I say, looking over my shoulder at him.

He pecks my lips. "Only to you, Baby Doll," he says.

"No, you're sweet to other people," I say, standing. "Just not as sweet as you are to me." I walk by his nightstand and grab one of the packs of cigarettes and my zippo lighter, then I glance behind me and offer. As I go to open the balcony doors, though, I'm met with the sudden sound of rain, and harsh rain at that.

"It's supposed to be stormy today until tonight," Andy explains. "Which is good 'cause you like rainy."

"I like rainy," I say, "not stormy." Storms scare the shit out of me and have since I was two.

Andy "mm"s as he lays back and recalls my earlier mention of stormy weather. I move back to the bed and sit by his lounging form and light the cigarette there, although I don't like smoking inside and making the house smell like smoke. I need to quit these things. Andy gestures for one, so I give him one and he lights it while laying down, which is dangerous but I don't protest because I'm not his mother and don't tell him what to do.

"Well, I'll be here to cuddle with if the storm hits L.A.," he says, glancing at me as he blows out billow of smoke. "No storm is gonna' ruin my girl's day."

I laugh as I take a drag. "So nice to me on my birthday."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he jokes, sitting up and against the headboard.

I sigh in content as I just sit and smoke with Andy. It's a nice morning this way.

"Doing anything other than lunch with the girls today?" he asks, grabbing his phone.

"I don't think so," I answer.

"Don't eat too much, 'cause I'm taking you to dinner," he says. "What time is lunch?"

"Twelve thirty," I say.

"Mm-kay," he hums, unlocking his phone.

I stand again and snuff out my cigarette, tear his face away from his phone so I can kiss him, and check the time on his phone, which reads ten thirty. I walk away and to the bathroom, where I have my morning pee and I shower.

At eleven I start doing my hair and getting ready a little early, just for the sake of getting ready. A shirt from Fronz's "Stay Sick" line with the label "Fuck Your Opinions", which I've cut up because I like cutting my shirts up, rests on my shoulders and a pair of distressed tights and shorts adorn my legs. My hair is actually on point today as is my make-up, and today I feel really pretty.