The Final Season

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

I should be all happy about today. I'm expected to be on all social networks right now announcing this important day. After all, it is the day I was given life. I just didn't find a reason to celebrate it, or announce it to the entire world, unlike my peers who thought it was necessary to do so. Nobody really cares about others' birthdays. People may think they do, but it goes in one ear and out the other, unless it's a family member or a close friend, then they care. Then again, I may be entirely wrong on this, who am I to know? It's just my own theory.

It's my big day alright. Finally eighteen, woohoo, I thought sarcastically. There's so many perks of being eighteen. Like being independent from your parents, being seen more as an actual adult, being able to vote, and get tried as an adult if you commit a crime. That's pleasant. It's not like I plan on ever committing a crime or anything of that nature. I didn't lay awake at night, enraptured by the thought of performing an illegal act. I definitely didn't imagine doing something harmful to Davis when he upset me, and I didn't search up areas where I could bury a corpse. No, haha, of course not, I'm not crazy. I'll need to delete my search history on google one of these days...

I cringed at my reflection in my bedroom mirror. I definitely did not have a birthday glow or flawless beautiful looks. I'm not an ogre or some horrid creature, but I definitely wasn't a sleeping beauty either. I didn't just wake up in the morning with beautiful flowing hair(the complete opposite actually) and flawless beautiful skin. I don't even believe that someone can wake up and look beautiful. Then again, maybe some people don't wake up to disheveled, knotty hair, or random acne appearing overnight. I can make it work though, it took a while to tame my morning madness, but I got the hang of it eventually.

After I showered I put on my undergarments and pranced around my room searching for my blow dryer. I finally found it and then took on the task of creating something pleasant with the mess on top of my head. For a change I straightened my hair and then went for a simple white cotton dress that reached just below mid thigh. I put on a pair of black ballet flats and grabbed my black over the shoulder bag off one of my hooks and let it fall to my waist. I grabbed my soccer bag and headed down the stairs.

I walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by a series of happy birthdays from my parents. I thanked them and kissed them both on the cheek before I took a plate of my mom's pancakes and plopped down on one of the stools beside the island.

"It's her birthday?" Max questioned while he walked into the kitchen and sat beside me. I rolled my eyes and stuffed some pancakes in my mouth. Typical of Max to forget. "Happy Birthday," he nodded his head in my direction and I mimicked his actions.

"You look pretty." My mom said. Did I look unpleasant every other day? Instead of voicing my thoughts, I thanked her and focused on my breakfast. "Perhaps it's for that boy you went to the movies with." Perhaps not, I thought to myself.

"Perhaps I just wanted to wear a dress," I muttered under my breath. My mom rolled her eyes playfully and took my empty plate from in front of me. She was eyeing me skeptically so I'm pretty sure she does think I wore this for Austin, which I didn't. It's actually been weeks since that date. We talked more frequently in class and in the halls, but we haven't had another date since. I liked that we were taking it slow, and plus both of us have our seasons to focus on. Maybe after we could start a relationship. Or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

All of a sudden, time sped up and it was time to ruin my morning by having to go to school and then practice after. Especially practice. God, Davis was going to torture us. Sectionals were so close, only a few games away, and he was getting more frantic, and more strict. I remember I walked into his class with a soda in my hand and then during practice on the same day, he made me run laps for it. Who's does that? Scratch that, what sane person does that?