paper rings (l.h.)

22

Luke and I had been together officially for a few months now.

We had gotten used to the fact that we weren't alone on this side of the universe anymore. I finally had someone my age to talk to, and he had someone who didn't care if he was a millionaire or a plebeian such as myself. He spent the evenings and early mornings with me, at my house, as the two of us kept my Grandma company while she watched her shows, and once she was able, went back upstairs to barricade herself in her bedroom. We were grateful everything had turned up alright, but I couldn't help but notice the heightened sense of awareness the two of us had after an accident such as that one. I'm something of a matchmaker, my Grandma had joked once I admitted that I knew I'd keep Luke around after he stayed the night with me in the waiting room. I didn't have the heart to tell her I thought he was special from the get-go.

When I was at work, Luke would spend his days at his studio in his home. He wouldn't tell me too much, only that he was working on something special and wanted for me to wait until it was finished before he showed me. I didn't mind waiting, I liked the way his face lit up as he talked about how he finally felt like things were turning up. But I knew that, if I waited long enough, I'd get a hint of it when he mindlessly hums it without realizing he was doing so. I couldn't help but smile when he would suddenly stop when he realized what he was humming.

I was off today though, the sun was already burning the top of my dark-hair covered head as I sprinkled feed amongst the coop, watching as the group of hens surround me. It was early still, about six AM, and still my forehead began to moisten.

"Where are you going?" My Grandma asked once I finished preparing her coffee and toast. I had finished with the morning dishes, and had changed into a flowery dress and converse. My hair fell down my back as I hugged her goodbye.

"It's Luke's birthday," I kiss her forehead, watching her smile grow when she processes my words. "I'm going to go make him breakfast."

July 16th lately had a new meaning. Once it was known as perhaps the darkest day of my life. My world came crashing around me six years ago today, my Dad gone in a matter of seconds as I sat in my Grandma's house after flying home all of a sudden. I don't remember the details of that day, I don't think any of us do. I remember the week before, and the few days leading up to it. But I had no clue where the courage to speak up came from, since I had vowed not to say anything because talking about it hurt too much. I remember my Mom finding my journal thinking it was for school. She mindlessly opened it and found every inner thought I was having, and how graphic my assaults were. How I wanted to desperately to make it all stop, but not enough to come forward and tell anyone about who hurt me, and how. How I was scared for my Father more than me, because I didn't want my family to hate him. I loved my Dad up until he was arrested. It wasn't until my last therapy appointment did I realize how truly screwed up I was when I began, and how far I've grown since moving. This was my step into the world afterwards, alone, without feeling like I should hide to be unnoticed like I had growing up. I didn't feel like I should lock my bedroom door in the one place I should feel safe. I didn't feel like sobbing each time I heard his work truck come home, or how I wanted to beg my Mom to stay awake with me, or sleep in my room to keep my Dad from sneaking in. I don't hate my friends anymore for not being uncomfortable around their Fathers. I am finally free. So why do I keep thinking about it?

At least I have Luke's birthday to distract me.

"How sweet," she beams. "Tell him I said happy birthday."

"I will," I smile, grabbing a gift bag that had been sitting in my closet for a while now. I had gotten him a few things I know he likes: Reece's, Sour Patch Kids, Twizzlers, a pack of guitar picks he had described as the best in the game, as well as the cutest birthday card Walgreens had to offer. Most of which I had to scrounge up change to buy, after the cost of Ubering from one place to another. It was worth it, though.