As Easy As Murder

35. not my birthday blues

EEEEEEEEEEEERPPHHH

I was awakened by the obnoxious sound of a party horn. 

I sat bolt upright, hair shooting out of my head like Lazer beams. The strap on my way-too-tight-but-I'm-gonna-make-it-work tank top snaps. Loretta's hyena laughter blasts my unsuspecting ears and I curve my pillow around my ears to muffle the sound.

"It's my birthday!" She laughs, jumping up and down on the bed, then landing in an air guitar pose. 

"Oh!"

Oh no. 

I hadn't noticed the day inching closer. I hadn't noticed the calander pages flipping, the weeks flying by, and even if I didn't see it, March 6th had came. 

The second half of February flew by uneventfully. Things paused and froze in time, staying the same, captured in a picture that sad on my side table, a photo that Jesse had managed to capture of all of us standing Infront of the makeshift Banana Puddin' Bonfire, the decided name for the incident. We all agreed that the night was one for the books. 

And now, here it was. The 22nd anniversary of the most stupid yet intelligent person on earths birth, none other than Loretta Cochran. And I had nothing planned. 

I started typing away on my phone, texting everyone and anyone but making sure to stay away from the group chat to spare Loretta from seeing a text about me clumsily forgetting her birthday and frantically asking if anyone else hadn't. 

Thankfully, Jesse got back to me right away before Loretta got off of her energy high. 

Jess <3: got it covered, The Conventional Cosmic Club  on 38th at 6pm sharp. be there, bring etti

I sighed in relief and returned to the upbeat self-imposed festivities that Loretta was thrusting upon the tiny dorm, her afro of curls bouncing with her as she jumped higher and higher, her legs coming up to almost touch her butt.

"I'm 22!" She squealed, stage diving off the bed and going back into air guitar-ness, strumming her chest and going absolutely wild. 

I stood up, laughing with her, a sense of fear behind it. Jesse is known to plan extravegant parties, fun, thrilling, but he always goes overboard and the cheerful atmosphere morphes into absolute and pure chaos. Like the time he invented some underground rock band and they got wasted and started argueing. It ended it a call to EMS because the guitarist hit the drummer over the head with his Gibson 335. 

Besides the possible impending disaster upon us all at 6pm sharp, I am not exactly in a partying mood. The past three nights straight, I have had the same night terror about my ex. It always starts with me and Kori sitting on the boat, enjoying the stillness of the night and basking in each others company, and then suddenly he runs onto the dock, diving in and swimming up behind where I am positioned, pulling me back and submerging me in the icy cold water, drowning me.

Each time I am woken up soaked. Not in salt water, but cold sweat. Loretta says I've been screaming bloody murder every night. I've been trying to keep it together and just march on with life as if i'm not having this major setback in my progress, but it's getting increasing harder as the nights press on with the same fate, waking up at 4:00 with a sour stomach and sweaty palms. 

Kori has noticed the darkening of my eyebags despite my concealer efforts, and has been pushing me to spill, but I've been unable to talk about it. The one time I tried, all I said was, 'I..had...a dream...that I died...and then...i woke up.' 

Needless to say, I'm not the best storyteller. 

Loretta ran into the bathroom and I followed with a yawn and stretch. I stood beside her, brushing out my hair while she ever so carefully combed out her curls, making them about 1% less frizzy than they were prior, good enough for her, and her statement. 

I stared at my face. My breakout had only worsened, and I attribute it to the stress of the dead end me and Kori have ran into with the case, mixed with the repeated nightmares I've been subjected to each night. 

I covered up the evidence of my distress with full-coverage foundation, adding some blush and a faulty tube of mascara I stole from Mom's purse 3 years ago and somehow haven't ran out of. 

Loretta started jamming out again, doing some sort of body roll. "Who's 21? Not me, not me, I'm 22, not you, not you."

I smirk, swinging an arm around her shoulder, "You may be 22, but you're not a singer."

"And you're not the legal drinking age but I don't stop you." She derided.

I couldn't even get mad at her, impressed that her comeback skills had possibly grown more impressive than they already were. I thought they were at maxima capacity. I hold my hand up for a fist bump and we do our secret handshake: Fist fist, twist twist, kiss kiss. 

_

The rest of the day I was nervous. 

I nervously got a de-caf cappuncino, hoping the lack of caffeine would help my anxiety, It didn't. I nervously went to Kori's dorm and invited (begged and pestered) him to come to the party, he accepted. I nervously went to talk to Cheryl, but was met with a note on her desk informing anyone needing to speak to her that she was at a dentist appontment getting her 'darn cavities' filled. 

And then I nervously got ready for the party. 

I slipped on a black bodycon dress. 

Loretta went crazy with her birthday outfit. A neon yellow shirt with a green mesh over layer over that, a black tutu with black fishnets underneath, and mismatched green and yellow boots she purposed for the event. 

I thought that would be the craziest thing about her birthday wear, but nothing could have prepared me for how she walked out after closing and opening the bathroom door. 

Green eyeliner poured down her cheeks in a purposeful mannor like a babbling Brook of slime, her waterlines graced with a pale red, her lips were a yellow, and her accessories were no more toned-down. 

"How do I look?"

I blink. What does she want me to say? That she looks like Vicky mixed with a rainbow unicorn mixed with fondant, or just say 'good' or 'stylish'?

"Fab-u-losis."

What does fabulosis mean? She's so breathtakingly unique that it's become a medical condition she suffers from? My wording just couldn't be any more genius. 

"I'll take it, let's get going," She smirked, tossing her neon cupcake-shaped bag over her shoulders, obviously going for an explosive kidcore look, like Jojo Siwa after surving a monsoon. 

I give her a small nod and follow her out like a helpless puppy, having shed of all my confidence and turned into a shell-less turtle, a snail without a home. The recurring tradgedy I see every night when I fall asleep has stripped me of all my toughness and left me with puppy dog eyes and no personality. 

Just when we were about to bored my boring bug, a sleek black limo pulled up Infront of us. We exchanged glances, "Who do you think that's for?" I raise a shoulder, wondering who would be fortunate enough. 

Loretta pointed to the driver, "Me." 

Sure enough, there was Jesse in a stylish chauffer uniform.  His pink waves were slicked back into a straight perfection and his usual make-up was even more extravagent than usual. His loverboy was in the back twiddling with his thumbs, probably because none of his limbs were connected to Jesse's. The guys got total separation anxiety. I wouldn't be surprised if he howls at the door when Jesse leaves the apartment. 

I gasped, sliding into the passenger seat while Loretta slid into the back, basking in the birthday attention from the other passengers, Vicky, Janey and Vera. 

"How the hell did you pay for this?" I leaned closer to Jesse, wiggling from excitement. He just pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a certain blonde golden retriever like guy sitting behind him, who just had the same blank smile on his face, big blue eyes staring ahead into space. 

We pulled up Infront of the club, the music blasting. Bishop was waiting outside, her hair tyed into a half-up style, her tight skirt complimenting her frame. We all got out of the limo and greeted her, Vicky already dancing to the music blasting from inside the building. 

Vicky's outfit somehow once again surpassed Loretta in the color scheme of things, her appearence looking like she's the spokesperson for crayola. Her hair was no longer it's previous rainbow and was now fully a bright blue. 

Upon entering the private area of the bar that Jesse had booked, our breaths were taken away as they are every single birthday Jesse has planned. Balloons were on every inch of the ceiling, other guests her congregated in social circles, taking and whispering fondly about the party. 

The cake was in the middle of the table, 3 layers, framed with neon frosting and a sugary writing on top. 

Of course, like I anticipated, one thing was askew, one thing was a bit too overkill. A guy with some weird bubble wand was planted in the middle of the room, blowing oversized bubbles of all shapes and sizes, allowing them to drift through the air and pop on people's heads and other surfaces. 

Anthony sat on a pouffe in the middle of the room, clapping and cheering. "Woo-hoo, those bubbles are double!" 

The bubbles were only a temporary distraction from Loretta, and the minute he layed eyes on her, an encrazed look appeared in his eyes. He ran over, his arms tightly wrapping around her torso like when a snake cuts off circulation. 

She groaned, "Who invited you?"

He smiled wider than the circumfrance of Mount Rushmore, a terrifying sight for a oxygen-deprived Loretta. "Me! I knew you wanted me here and just forgot to invite me!"

I watched in amusement, the scene as entertaining as something of a Hallmark film. Hands crept around my waiste and I felt someone give me a swift smack on my backside. My head swiveled around to see Kori standing there smirking ear to ear. 

"You animal." I scoffed. "Leave me alone, I'm watching this unfold."

"Seigneur, donne-moi la force.." He muttered under his breath. "I need to talk to you, it's serious, it's about the case-"

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" I yelled. 

He blinked. I blinked. 

I had no idea why I snapped. Maybe it was my lack of solid sleep over the past few days. Maybe it was the obnoxious guitar solo coming from the live music in the main area of the bar that consisted of 3 guys with stringy hair and jeans with worn knees, or maybe it was Janey crying about Collin in the back corner. 

I don't know why I snapped, but I do know why I ran away afterwards. 

His arm reached out to grab me back but I broke free, my spirit running ahead of me and making me sprint. 

I ran across the bar to where Bishop was sitting alone and sipping out of a fancy glass, her eyes looking almost If not as tired as mine. They started down at her lap, her skirt ridden up to her upper thighs. Her earlobes bared no earrings, which was unlike her. 

"Tough night?" I mumbled, sitting next to her. 

"Beyond," She hissed. "I woke up 3 times because the person in the apartment above me was having an even worse night than I was."

I raised an eyebrow. "What does that entail?"

"Well first there was the screaming and toilet flushes-" 

"Nevermind, don't need to hear about it." 

I sighed, leaning back against the rough fabric of the couch, the vintage fantasy pattern a stark contrast to the modern smooth environment of The Conventional Cosmic Club. 

"Well, I can't say I'm having any better of a time." 

She poured me a glass but I waved it off, intending to finally wake up feeling energized tommorow, if my sleep isn't interrupted by my ex's receding hairline and grossly chapped lips. 

Upon my decline, she added the wine in my glass to her glass and chugged the whole thing. It left me curious about what traumatic even her upstairs neighbor was going through last night. I scrunched up my nose at the thought. 

By the looks of it, Loretta wasn't having too great of a night either, despite it being her birthday. The cool surfer guy from the 711 had entered the party upon me sneaking out of the dorm and inviting him at 11:30 last night. 

He approached with the intent of flirting, and she had the intent of reciprocating, but Anthony took it upon his strong and many 5'2 buck teethed self to loudly proclaim, making sure to project his voice, drawing the attention of  everyone at the bar, "HEY, THIS IS MY GIRL. GET YOUR OWN." 

Loretta dipped out of the party room, running so fact she almost lost the peice of double layer strawberry cake on her plate. She slid inbetween me and Bishop, trying to blend in. She stole Bishop's wine and downed it. 

The party progressed, Loretta got wasted, I got tipsy but stopped it there so I could wake up without photos I don't recall and some odd outfit I don't rememember owning before, a true story. 

Kori found me outside just before we were about to get back into the Uber. He held my hand, kissed my cheek and whispered some french, "Appelle-moi le matin." 

"Huh?"

"Call me later." 

I nodded, getting into the car. Jesse put it in drive, and we started moving, but I felt still. 

-

That night, I stayed up until 6am, dreading going to sleep. I made up every excuse in the book to give to Loretta for not going to sleep, and eventually, when it hit 6am, the start of Cheryl's office hours, being she's an early riser, I headed down to her desk. 

She was sitting there, sipping on a protein shake with one hand and typing with the other. 

The minute she saw me, she knew. 

"What's going on, sugar? You look like you need some rest." 

I nodded, sitting on her desk. "You have no idea."

"Well, how about you give me one."

So I did. 

And by the end of me pouring my heart out, the nightmare seemed to drift away, out of my grasp, out of my feild of worries. 

I sat down on the blue couch, immediately falling asleep. 

I didn't have a nightmare.

But I did have a dream. 

Anthony and Loretta got married. Cheryl was the officiant. 

And I couldn't help but feel like we just got a glimpse into the future. 

Lord have mercy Jesus banana puddin', would I love to see that.