UNEDITED
When Leon Saint-Laurent receives a wedding invitation in the mail, he soon realizes nothing's fair in love and life.
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Eliza is set on marrying James. She wants to step into a new chapter of her life. One where she can forget the past a...
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Eliza
2010, Whistler, BC, Eliza's Sixteenth
Today is my sixteenth birthday. October thirty-first.
It's also Halloween.
For most of my life, I've despised my birthday being on Halloween. Ever since I can remember, it's been nothing but Halloween-themed birthday parties. They're usually complete with bobbing for apples and dressing up. It's gotten cliché, annoying, if you will.
But this year, I'm excited. It's the first year Leon and I are going to a high school party—where I'm going to avoid drinking anything but water—while being dressed up in couples' costumes. After a long conversation, Leon and I decided on John Bender and Claire Standish from The Breakfast Club. It's one of our favourite movies.
I'm sitting on the couch, gazing out the window in my long brown skirt and pink V-neck top, waiting for Leon to arrive. He wouldn't let me see his costume last night when I was over at his place, so I'm looking forward to seeing him. He promised me it would level up to mine.
With anticipation in my blood, I scratch my scalp. I had been contemplating whether or not I should dye my hair red for the evening. I decided against it. Now, with the itchiness driving me crazy, I'm wishing I had temporarily dyed my hair.
There's a knock at the door.
I jump to my feet, ready to see Leon's costume.
But, when I open the door, I see my dad. My smile fades and dread replaces any feelings of happiness. I forgot that my parents were switching places tonight. And that's all they seem to care about. Not my sixteenth birthday. Not the fact that Leon's mom took me to get my learner's license and not her. She's been complaining about how filthy the place is going to be when she returns next week because of my sloppy my dad is.
"Hey, Dad," I say, hoping he remembers it's my birthday. Hoping he congratulates me for passing the written test. I have my learner's license now. I can drive with an adult.
"Hey, Eliza," he replies, smiling at me. He forces his smile. Just like he forces the cheerful note in his voice.
And that's the moment I realize that neither of them cares that it's my birthday. If there's one thing I've learned about my parents through their divorce, it's that they are inevitably drawn to drama. They thrive off of it.
As Dad steps inside, looking around the space for Mom, I spot Leon walking up the driveway. From afar, I can't make out his costume. Disinclined to hearing my parents yell at each other for the next two hours, I push past Dad, not bothering to say goodbye to either of them. I meet Leon halfway.
When I'm standing in front of him, I stop and inspect his costume. Rather than wear a wig, he's dyed his hair a medium shade of brown, styling it just like in the movie. He's also wearing a red-and-black chequered flannel with a white T-shirt underneath. Some of the buttons are undone. Atop that is a ripped denim jacket with four pins placed precariously on it. On his hands is a pair of black, fingerless gloves. There's a bandana tied around his right boot. Sunglasses sit atop his head.
