"There's my girl!" Mom yelled as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. Before I could react, I felt my mom's hands wrap around me, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Mom," I choked out. "I can't...breathe."
She pulled away and smiled, cupping my face. "Oh, can you blame me? My daughter is eighteen-years-old!" She wiped at her face and sniffled and I felt my heart warm. "You're a grown-up, now. Oh, this is too much for me to handle."
She sat down and grabbed a couple of tissues.
I laughed and sat down next to her. "I'm a grown-up, yes. But don't worry, I still get excited over little things."
Mom smiled and rolled her eyes. "I packed your lunch. I hope you don't mind having birthday pancakes."
"Mind? I don't mind at all!" I said, springing up, my hands flailing around. I checked my watch. "It's my birthday and I have a math quiz in thirty minutes. I think I should get going. Bye!" I bent down and kissed her cheek. I grabbed my bag and raced out the door, my mom's sobs about my date today the last of what I could hear.
Today.
It was today.
I decided to walk to school. I felt too happy. In fact, I was in a really good mood that I actually said hello to Ms. Walker. Of course, she shrugged me off and continued smoking.
Smoking. Dylan.
My mind jumped to the photo I observed yesterday at the carnival. Surely Dylan and the mystery girl had chemistry. I mean they looked in love. They were in love. The way he was looking at her...I had never seen him look at another girl that way at school. Or at all. In fact, he didn't really care about any of the girls. When I told him about Abby, he shrugged me off. It didn't seem like he was interested in anyone.
But there was something between him and the girl.
And he told me he didn't believe in love. He told me he was never in love.
Did he and the girl have a messy break up? Was he still in love with her, even though he disregarded the idea of being in love?
Questions raced through my mind and I stopped and shook my head.
It was my special day.
I had a date with my crush.
I didn't need to play detective. Maybe Dylan just didn't like the concept of being in love. Who was I to change that? He was stubborn and bitter. Maybe that was just him.
It wasn't my business to interfere with his love life.
"Aubrey!" Tymon and Amber yelled.
Here it came.
Another bone-crushing hug.
"Oh, my gosh, you're eighteen!" Amber screamed, attracting the attention of some students.
"Our little girl is growing up," Tymon sobbed.
I laughed. "Thanks, guys."
Wow.
I was actually eighteen.
Getting to the locker, now, was pretty hard. Amber and Tymon wouldn't let go of me so I basically had to drag them with me. It wasn't easy and we did receive lots of unwanted attention – something I laughed at.
"Guys, I'm not going to run away," I laughed. "I need to get my math copybook and review. I have a quiz in a few."
"Fine," Amber groaned, letting go. "Gosh, it just feels surreal. You're like a little kid to us, Aubrey."
"It's hard to let go," Tymon commented, smiling at me.
"We're all eighteen, now," I said. "Everybody eventually grows up." I stopped and swallowed, putting loose strands of my hair behind my ear. "But hey, I'm still that person who gets excited over carnivals."
"You always will be," Amber said.
"Indeed."
We exchanged smiles and goodbyes and then I turned to my locker. I hummed to a song I loved and dialed in my combination, flinging my locker open. These lockers were quite old and rusty and required pressure to gain access.
"Copybook, copybook, copybook..." I muttered to myself, scanning the locker. "Aha!"
I pulled it out and shut my locker, turning around, only to stop and yelp.
Dylan raised an eyebrow and I pushed down the curiosity I had about him and the girl. It's none of your business, Aubrey. He'll only get angry.
"Do you have the chemistry book with you? I forgot it at home and the teacher is a freaking screw," he said, folding his arms. He also decided to ditch the jacket, although I knew he always had it with him.
"But I just closed my locker!"
"Then open it again!"
I rolled my eyes and went through the whole process again. I grabbed the book and shut the locker. "Here," I said, handing it over. "Why are you in such a bitter mood? I'm not surprised, but still."
He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his black hair. It had gotten curlier and it was evident he was running his hands through his hair a lot. What had gotten him so nervous and worked up?
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. "I need to get to class."
I brushed him off and grinned. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"No," he replied, turning around. And then was he on his way.
Guess not.
"Hey, Aubrey."
My head snapped up, my eyes locking with warm, brown ones.
"Dallas! Hey!"
He grinned. "Happy eighteenth!"
I blushed. "Thank you."
"I just wanted to...you know...make sure that we're still on for tonight."
"Yeah. Sure. Of course we are!"
Calm down, you dummy.
"Great," he replied. He can kill a person with such a smile.
