Lonely Hearts Club // Book One

Chapter Twenty-Two

March 20th, 2014

The harmonic sounds of pots and pans clattering from the kitchen woke me up on this semi-important day. Truthfully, when I did wake up, I didn't eve realise what day it was until the ginormous poster my mum had hung up right in front of my bed.

Happy Birthday Bitch!

Sometimes I couldn't love my mum even more. I didn't feel any older, which was a frankly odd term - slash - question everyone would use when they first greeted you on your special day. Do you feel older? Uh, no. Should I? It's an anniversary, not a real huge stepping stone. Yesterday I was 16, today I turned 17, just a day difference doesn't mean I actually would age.

So the logic of some people just flat out sucked.

Frowning (and groaning), I kicked myself off of my bed and trudged down to the bottom of the stairs, where the only other two people in the house murdered my eardrums with their obnoxious screaming of a happy birthday song. How rude.

"Mornin' sunshine!" gleamed my mum. She was handing a pan of scrambled eggs and that just made my taste buds cry.

"No," I said, setting myself down at the dinning room table. "Don't say that again, please, it's cheesy."

My mum motioned for Greg and when he came close she whispered in his ear, "she just wants go upstairs and call her boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" I interjected but she just tsk'd.

"I beg to differ. That boy looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's seen in his entire life." My cheeks grew hot and she let out a loud cackle. "You're so cute!"

"No! I'm not!" I insisted, throwing an oven mitt at her. "Stop!"

"Fine, fine. Are you going to school today?"

"Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Yeah."

"Do I have to go to school?" I asked. Mum shrugged.

"It's your birthday, your option." Then hell no I wasn't going to school. But Cal would kill me if I didn't go, oh well.

"Ooh."

"Wait- that's not fair! My birthday's in the summer!" exclaimed Greg with a pout and a minor crack in his voice.

"Sorry," my mum shrugged as she plated food for me. "You're not 17." I grinned. "Get ready for school," she said to my brother. "You'll be late."

"Fine, happy birthday Paige," he grumbled as he took his backpack with him upstairs. That's where my brother and I differed. He'd do his homework the day it was due, and I'd do mine before it was even assigned. I live a sad life.

"I'm gonna go back to bed. Thanks for breakfast, mum, love you."

"Love you, too. Happy birthday again!" she called, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Thanks."

It was one in the afternoon by the time I woke up. Rascal was at the foot of my bed, stirring in his sleep although it was broad daylight outside. I was also home alone. The poster my mum had hung up was mocking me from the wall, with its bright colours and foul language, it screamed excitement. But really, I hated the attention on birthdays.

As I adjusted to the new lighting of the room, my nose thought it would be funny to make me sneeze, so that was eventful. I went downstairs after that and laid back on the couch, mostly because my eyesight was awful and I was lightheaded anyway. Two minutes later, or maybe two seconds, the doorbell rang and my heart stopped. Unfortunately, the person outside could see in my living room window. Fortunately, it was just Luke with an anxious expression on. He was also still in the same clothes as the other day, and his hair was greasy and unkempt.