The Girl Who Was Supposed to Die (GirlXGirl)

Chapter 45: Dylan's Birthday

I hadn't given a damn about my birthday for years. It always felt like another throwaway day—if my dad even remembered, we'd have some pathetic dinner where we'd mostly sit in silence. Nothing worth celebrating. The years blurred together, each birthday creeping by like it was trying to sneak past me. But this year? This year was different. For once, I wasn't dreading it. Marie, my own personal cheerleader, had promised we'd do something, no matter how much I tried to downplay it. Still, I didn't expect much.

That morning, sunlight punched through the curtains and dragged me into the day. I groaned and reached for my phone, already feeling the dread creeping in. A message from Marie lit up my screen: "Happy Birthday, Dylan. Can't wait to see you later. Be ready for a surprise."

Ugh, "surprise." That word was dangerous. I wasn't one for grand gestures or public displays, but if it was Marie planning it, it might not be completely awful. I sighed and got ready, throwing on my usual armor—dark baggy jeans and a black compression that fit like a second skin. I twisted my hair into a messy bun, letting a few strands escape to frame my face. It was a casual look, but I felt good in it—confident, even. I tried to convince myself I didn't care about my birthday, but maybe, deep down, some twisted part of me was curious about whatever nonsense Marie had cooked up.

A few hours later, I found myself trudging to the park near school, where Marie told me to meet her. The crisp autumn air felt good on my skin, clearing out the fuzz in my head. Leaves crunched under my boots, their colors bursting like flames against the blue sky, each step echoing my increasing heart rate. I tugged at the sleeves of my jacket, a nervous habit I couldn't shake off, trying not to think too hard about the fact that I felt... something. Maybe it was skepticism, or maybe it was excitement. It felt dangerously close to hope, and I wasn't sure I wanted to go there.

As I pushed through a patch of trees, the sight that greeted me was like a punch to the gut—like I'd stumbled into a movie scene. A group of familiar faces surrounded a picnic table drowning in balloons and streamers, a cacophony of colors that clashed delightfully against the backdrop of rustling leaves. A homemade banner hung between two trees, screaming "Happy Birthday, Dylan!" in obnoxiously colorful letters. On the table, pizza boxes were stacked high, a chaotic pyramid of greasy goodness. A small cake with unlit candles waited patiently, its icing gleaming like it was begging to be devoured.

I stopped in my tracks, my brain stalling out for a second. "What the actual—?" I couldn't help the disbelief creeping into my voice, almost choking on my words.

Marie spotted me first, her face lighting up like a goddamn firework. "There she is! Birthday girl in the flesh!" She waved me over like I was a celebrity or some shit, her excitement infectious.

Brooke, leaned against the picnic table with her arms crossed, smirking. "Took you long enough. We were about to say screw it and eat without you." Her words were sharp, but her smirk softened the blow, making it clear she was teasing.

Aaliyah bounded over like a golden retriever on caffeine. "Yo, we had a bet going. I was this close to thinking you'd bail!" Her grin was infectious, and despite myself, I laughed, the tension in my shoulders easing just a bit.

Sylvia looked me up and down like she was sizing up dinner. "Happy birthday, hot stuff," she purred, giving me a wink that sent a shockwave of warmth through my stomach. "You ready for your big day?" The way she said it had a teasing lilt, making my skin prickle with an unanticipated thrill.

I stood there, staring at the whole setup like it was some kind of fever dream. These people—my friends—had actually done all this for me? For me, of all people. I wasn't used to this. Wasn't used to anyone going out of their way for anything, especially not some forced celebration. For a second, it felt like I couldn't breathe, my throat tight with emotions I wasn't ready to deal with.

Marie wandered over, her brow slightly furrowed with concern, and placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm and grounding. "Hey, I hope this isn't too much," she said, her voice a little softer, more intimate. "We kept it small, like you wanted." There was something in her gaze, a sincerity that made my heart race for reasons I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I swallowed hard, trying to get a grip on the sudden mess of feelings. "This is... I didn't expect this," I muttered, scanning the decorations, the cake, the smiling faces, and then landing on her. The sunlight caught in her hair, casting an almost ethereal glow around her, and I felt a heat rising in my cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

"You deserve it," Marie said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We all wanted to do something special for you." Her words hit me like a wave, pulling me under with the sincerity behind them, nearly knocking me off balance.

Brooke joined us, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to make me flinch. "C'mon, it's not every day you turn, what, 19?" she teased, her grin wide. "Let's eat before the pizza gets cold."

I laughed, a little breathless. "Eighteen," I corrected, shaking my head. It was ridiculous how light I suddenly felt, like the weight of the world was lifting just a bit.

"Close enough." Brooke shrugged, grabbing a slice of pizza. The smell hit me hard, and my stomach growled in response, reminding me I hadn't eaten anything real in days.

We all dug in, the pizza practically melting in my mouth. Between bites, the group threw jokes back and forth, the kind of playful banter that made me feel like I wasn't on the outside looking in for once. Like I actually belonged. The thought was unsettling but... not unwelcome.

Aaliyah, leaning back with a cocky grin, pointed at me mid-bite. "Alright, D. Real talk. What's your birthday wish? You've gotta have something good lined up."

Caught off guard, I blinked at her. I hadn't even thought about it. Birthday wishes were for kids, and I'd given up on that kind of crap a long time ago. But looking around at the people who'd somehow wriggled their way into my life—Marie's warm smile, Sylvia's teasing glances, Brooke's relentless sarcasm—something flickered in my chest, a spark of hope that felt almost dangerous.

"I think I already got it," I said, the words slipping out before I could overthink them, my gaze locking onto Marie's.

Her expression shifted, something unreadable flashing in her eyes as a small smile curled her lips. "We're just getting started," she said, elbowing me lightly, her arm brushing against mine in a way that sent an electric tingle down my spine. "Next year, it'll be even bigger."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "God, don't. I'm already regretting showing up."

As the afternoon dragged on, the barriers I kept up so tightly around me started to crumble, just a little. Sylvia's flirty remarks kept me on edge, but in a way that made my pulse quicken. It was a strange sort of dance—each of us weaving around each other, with the leaves rustling overhead and laughter filling the gaps.

When it was time for cake, Brooke lit the candles, their flames flickering like they were daring me to give a damn. Everyone crowded around, preparing to butcher the "Happy Birthday" song in the most off-key way possible. I couldn't stop smiling, even if I tried. It was like the joy was bubbling up, pushing through the cracks in the walls I'd spent years building.

I blew out the candles, the smoke curling upwards as my friends cheered, their voices blending into a symphony of warmth and happiness. No wish. I didn't need one. For the first time, I realized that I had something good going. These people gave a shit about me. That was enough. More than enough.

As the sun started to dip, casting long shadows over the park, Marie nudged me gently, her voice dropping to a low murmur that made my heart race. "I'm really glad you came today," she said, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. The way her gaze lingered felt charged, electric, as if the air between us was thickening with unspoken words.

I glanced at her, feeling that strange warmth again—something deeper than friendship flickering beneath the surface. "Yeah. Me too."

And for once, I actually meant it.

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