Chapter Sixteen

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February twenty-eighth, the day of my eighteenth birthday, is only a week away. I completely forgot about it until my skirmish with Dad, so I don't really have anything planned. Besides, it's eighteen, not sixteen. Been there, done that.

I'm not really a big party person (despite the holiday parties I attended) so I am happy just celebrating with my family. Apparently, Taylor is more excited than I am because she informed me that I am going to her house to celebrate. I reluctantly agreed, not seeing why not. I am assuming that we will eat crap and watch sappy chick flicks like we had for her birthday. That sounds like a pretty damn good birthday to me.

But then, the clues start appearing. First, there is a sticky note on my locker, telling me to check my closet when I get home. I couldn't decipher the handwriting; they had written in a super fancy script. When I get home, there is a beautiful red dress hanging in my closet. I drop the water bottle that is in my hands and then sent up a silent prayer when it didn't leak everywhere.

On the dress, another sticky note reads "You look gorgeous everyday, but here's a dress for your birthday!" I smile, immediately thinking that that is something Chris would say

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On the dress, another sticky note reads "You look gorgeous everyday, but here's a dress for your birthday!" I smile, immediately thinking that that is something Chris would say. I pull the dress down off the rack, and on the tag is another note.

"Look down at your feet. What are you missing?"

I look down, and there is a new pair of silver heels. My smile somehow grows bigger. The note on the shoes is written in completely different handwriting, and I begin to suspect that there is more than one person behind the clues.

"Now your outfit has been fixed, be at Taylor's house on Saturday at quarter to six."

I smile, realizing that Taylor and possibly Chris have organized some sort of party for me on Saturday. I shake my head at the gifts in my closet and smile again. Oh, I'm such a spoiled child.

"Taylor, what are you up to?" She finally answers her phone after the third ring.

This school year has been a particularly exciting one. I never go to parties, but I got invited to two big fancy ones over Christmas break. My parents bought me a car, and I don't really know how. Aaron is in college, and I don't know how we can afford to have a third car, but I am extremely grateful. It's been a hard year, Dad lost his job and had to find a new one. I've been kept out of the loop of our family's financial status, even though my dad found a new job. I guess my parents don't want me to worry. Now my friends are buying me expensive dresses and throwing me parties, and I have a boyfriend! I've been handed so much, and I don't know why I deserve it. All I can say was that I was so thankful for the life God has given me, and can't wait for the adventures that are about to start.

"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes.
"Come on Taylor. You know what I mean."
"Fine, you got me. But I'm not telling you anything. See you Saturday!"
"Taylor! Taylor?" Ugh. She hung up. That girl.

*****************************************

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your party?" I sit up and look around my room.
"What time is it?" Oh, gross. I fell asleep on top of my calculus homework, and of course I drooled on it.

"Almost five o'clock." I shake my head to clear it up, and then open my eyes wide, realizing what my mom had just said.
"

Oh, shoot, thanks. And how do you know it's a party?"
"I don't know...you have a red dress and heels in your closet. I'm guessing they're for a party."
"You see, I don't even know what they're for. Taylor just told me to be at her house on Saturday wearing them, so..."
"Well, it's Saturday. So you need to get moving!"
"Oh, yeah--right!" I scramble out of my chair and run into the bathroom, turning the shower on so that the water will warm up.

By five thirty I am all glowed-up, as the kids say these days (I'm so out of the loop that I'm a kid and I can say that), and am scrambling to get to my car without tripping in my new shoes. Finally, as I pull out of the driveway, I exhale a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. This is for my birthday. I should not be stressed out. This is going to be great.

I pull into Taylor's driveway, and there is Chris with a bouquet of roses that match my dress, and a limo. I pinch myself. No, this is a dream. There is no way this is happening to me. I'm not a princess, I didn't just save the world, I--I don't deserve this!

Nope. I am definitely not dreaming.

"Hey, beautiful." I run up to him and give him the biggest hug I can.
"What--what is this? Why--"
"Relax. It's your birthday, and I thought you deserved to do something fun to celebrate."
"But why, why are we here?" Just then, Taylor comes outside, holding a perfectly wrapped gift.
"Well, you see--" she starts, trying not to laugh at my confusion--"we thought that if you met him here, you would be convinced that we were throwing you a party. Even your mom was in on it. But actually, he's here to take you to a show."
"A show?" I ignore Taylor's obvious pride in the fact that she had successfully tricked me.
"Oh, you didn't tell her yet? Sorry Chris...didn't mean to steal your thunder." I roll my eyes. "Here, take this. Happy Birthday!" She hands me the gift, whispers "have fun" in my ear, and then disappears back inside.
"So, a show?" I repeat my question, this time directing it at Chris.
"Yeah. A show. There's this magical place called Broadway, and there is this show that my girlfriend has been talking about for weeks and--" He stops talking because he no longer can, I have pressed my lips against his. "Wow. Thanks?"
"Chris. You really didn't have to do all, this." I look at the limo and then down at my dress.
"Yes, I picked out the dress. Don't thank me for that--I get to look at you in it all night. That's enough."
"But this must be so expensive--"
"Shh. Don't worry about it. It's your eighteenth birthday! Now come on, we have dinner reservations and a show to see." My smile somehow gets bigger and I skip over to the limo. This is going to be the best birthday ever.

"I am so full. Why did you let me eat the chocolate cake and then have candy at the theater?"
"Come on, it's your birthday!"
"You can't keep using that!"
"Why not. This is your birthday gift after all."
"Fine. Have I said thank you yet?"
"Um, about ten thousand times."
"Well, thank you ten thousand times more."
"All I ask is for a good night kiss at your door."
"Would you look at that. We are poets and we didn't even know it!"
"Okay, you are definitely high on sugar."
"It's your fault."
"Oh, shut up." He leans over and kissed my laughing mouth. Everything is so perfect. It is almost, almost too good to be true.

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