"Here's the birthday girl!" Amber squealed and I was immediately enveloped into a tight hug. I grunted when Tymon decided to join in on the affection.
I laughed. "Guys, my birthday isn't until next week, remember?"
They pulled away and Amber smiled. "Yeah, we know. But, it's really exciting that you're turning eighteen. Goodness, people would think you're, like, fourteen!"
"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be flattered or offended," I said, rolling my eyes but grinning nonetheless. "Why would people think I'm fourteen, anyway?"
"Because you're childish and always giddy," she said. "But anyway – Aubrey, you're turning eighteen! Eighteen! We should do something fun on that day!"
"We don't need to think of that now," I laughed. "It's a week away. How about we make it to class? I have a math test."
September had ended a long time ago. It was pretty amazing how the months can go by so quickly. It was almost well into November and school had already gotten a little tougher. Honestly, September was the easiest and now we had a ton of tests to study for. Christmas vacation was not a long way ahead, though.
Christmas was very weird here in Savannah.
Shaking my head, I smiled and walked with Amber and Tymon to class. I spotted Dylan rummaging through his locker, his eyes furrowed.
"Dylan!" Amber yelled. His head craned to look at us. "Guess what? Aubrey's turning eighteen next week."
He went back to searching in his locker. "Oh, really? People would think she's about twelve-years-old."
Amber snickered and I glared at him. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"
"'Cause you look like one," he answered, pulling out a book. He slammed the locker shut and turned to look at me. His eyebrow raised in amusement. Amber and Tymon were already walking down the hallway, bickering about some pointless topic. Their arguments, however, were always amusing.
"So," he said. "You're turning eighteen, huh?"
I grinned. "Are you thinking of getting anything for me?"
"No, not really."
"Figured as much but it was worth a try!"
He rolled his eyes. "Goodbye, Beatles girl."
Come to think of it, turning eighteen was a huge difference for me. I didn't know to feel about it, though. It felt pretty exciting but scary at the same time. Turning eighteen meant finally being a legal adult. Being a legal adult meant making your own decisions and living an independent life. I never really depended on anyone – not even my parents. But, I was a senior and that meant this was the final stage of high school.
College was a whole new thing.
It meant living alone. Maybe not always but I knew it would be like this for me after I graduate. Now that was pretty scary. Being eighteen was going to be a new step in my life. I almost wished I were a twelve-year-old or a fourteen-year-old Amber and Dylan saw me as. I didn't think I would mind it. It meant being young. I didn't have to think about this whole new step when I was younger. It didn't feel complicated.
My father kept complaining about how I was growing up too fast and my mother did, too, but she also made sure to state the fact that I had never been in a relationship. I laughed at that. My father did not. And that made me laugh even more.
"Aubrey, are you okay?" Amber asked, stirring me out of my daydream.
"Huh? What? Yeah. I was just thinking."
"You're always thinking," Tymon said. "It's not healthy."
"Thank you, Dr. Phil," Amber snapped, rolling her eyes. I laughed when Tymon and Amber began to bicker again.
It took them about five minutes to finish their argument.
The bell rang and Amber rose from her seat, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Finally!"
I rose up with her and the three of us exited the classroom, maneuvering our way through the crowd of students in the hallway, just as eager to leave school as we were.
"How'd you do on that Biology test?" Amber asked. "We had it yesterday."
"I think I did pretty well," I replied, smiling. "What about you?"
"I definitely failed."
I laughed. "I know you'll do much better next time. We have a Spanish test next week. How about we meet and do what we always do?"
"Sounds good to me," she answered.
"Me too," Tymon smiled.
"Great!" I beamed. "I'll catch up with you guys later. I need to get something from my locker."
We departed ways and it didn't take time for me to retrieve my English book from the locker. I shoved it into my bag and rounded the corner only to stop and stare at a furious Dylan. He was a good distance from me, his phone pressed to his ear. His hair looked like he had been running his hands through it all day. His bag and jacket lay on the floor and he was shouting obscenities to whoever was on the other end of the line.
"Are you serious?" he spat. "You better be messing with me here." Dylan paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. "Don't tell me what to do, David. I've had enough of this."
David.
His brother.
"What does he even want?" Dylan stopped pacing and sighed, rubbing his temples. "Whatever. Fine. Bye."
Before I could do anything, Dylan balled up his hand into a fist and swung it in a locker's direction but stopped midway. He let his hand drop and that's when he realized I was there.
His eyes narrowed into slits. "Why am I not surprised that you're here?"
I approached him slowly. "Are you okay?"
"Guess."
"Well, you don't look okay to me."
"What gave it away?"
I cringed. "There's no need for the sarcasm."
He grabbed his bag and jacket.
"Do you need a ride home? Given you're distressed and all..."
"No," he interjected and I startled. "No. I don't need anything from you. Not a thing. Frankly, I am in no mood for this bull so don't ask me questions and lay off."
"I was just trying to—"
"Don't."
Dylan turned around and left.
I stood there, blinking, a million questions running through my head. He had never snapped at me the way he had right now and frankly, I was pretty upset.
I mean I was only trying to help.
"Aubrey?"
I jumped at the sound. I turned around and found Dallas looking at me with a confused look. When I looked at him, he broke out into a smile and I almost died.
"Dallas! Hey!"
Maybe I was a little too enthusiastic.
"How are you?" he asked. "And what are you still doing here?"
"Oh, I just wanted to get a book from my locker," I replied. And then I got shouted at. "What about you?"
"Football practice," he answered. "Was that Dylan who was cursing? Did he say anything to you?"
"What? Oh, no! Of course not. There's no need to worry."
"Are you sure? He's not a really good influence, Aubrey," Dallas said. "He's trouble."
I opened my mouth to say something but I didn't know what to say.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said.
"No, no," I shook my head and shot him a small smile. "Don't worry. We, uh, we don't even talk that much."
"I digress," he laughed. "But anyway, I heard that it's your birthday next week."
"Yeah."
"How does it feel to be almost eighteen?" he asked, smiling.
"Pretty good, I guess."
Dallas smiled wider. "Well, I'll see you around, then. Bye, Aubrey!"
"Bye!" I waved goodbye to him and watched him disappear around the corner. Sighing, I walked out, got into the car, and drove home.
