KISS: Casablanca High School

Ch 66: Oh Is It My Birthday? (Paul)

Every muscle in my body was aching as I stepped out of my car, shivering. On the bright side though, it was my birthday, so I didn't have to do the dishes tonight, which is always a plus. I walked up to the front door, trying to unlock it while balancing my backpack and my basketball bag. It finally swung open and I stepped inside to find Mom and Dad rushing around, packing their suitcases in a flurry.

"Wait what's going on?" I cried, dropping my bags. Mom paused, running over to give me a hug and a kiss and a sad look. "Paul, sweetheart, I am so, so, so, sorry but your father and I need to leave right away to California, we're not going to be able to celebrate with you," she said, before going right back to packing.

"California?! For what?!" I shouted. Dad grabbed the suitcases, already walking toward the garage. "There was a sudden emergency with one of our partner firms in LA and your mother and I need leave immediately in order to help resolve it. We won't be back for about a week."

"Are you serious?! You guys are going to leave me alone for my last birthday home?! My last birthday before college and you guys are going to fucking Los Angeles without me?!"

Mom gave me a furious glare. "Paul Stanley don't you dare take that tone and use that language against me!" she snapped, before her face immediately softened and she gave me another hug. "I'm sorry, Paul. If we had any other choice you know we would have taken it. Whatever you want us to do to make it up to you when we get back, just let us know."

"No! No, just forget it! I don't know why I'm surprised, it's not like you guys have paid any attention to me this year! You didn't make it to a single one of my football games, you barely made it to homecoming, you've gone to one basketball game and didn't even watch, why would you be here for my birthday? It's fine!" I roared, grabbing my bags and storming back upstairs, slamming the door to my room behind me.

It's fine, it's whatever, I don't even care. I'll just open my presents on my own, eat my cake alone, it's whatever.

Mom knocked on the door and apologized one last time before leaving, but I just ignored her, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water flow over me.

The house was silent by the time I stepped out of the shower and pulled on some sweats, walking downstairs into the kitchen. Heaving a sigh, I set the store bought cake on the table, setting in 18 candles and lighting them, staring at the flickering flames. "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Paullll, happy birthday to me," I murmured before blowing out the candles, grabbing a knife, and cutting myself a piece.

It tasted like a store bought cake, and I only picked at it a bit before moving to the fridge, grabbing a Coke. Hands shaking as I realized I was starting to turn into the exact person my parents were afraid I would be, I unlocked the liquor cabinet with a grim smile, snagging the bourbon and pouring equal parts of the two of them into a glass, sending a snap to Gene 'how many glasses do u think it'll take me to get drunk' and knocking back the mix with a slight shudder.

I was on my fourth glass and definitely starting to feel more than buzzed by the time Gene called.

"Paul what are you doing?"

"H'ppy birshday to you too," I mumbled, pouring another glass and drinking it a little slower this time.

"Your parents are going to kill you. Where are they, upstairs?"

"They'reinn California so they can't even...can't even do nothin'."

There was silence as he let out a really long sigh. "Paul, stop drinking. You can't keep drowning out your problems by getting drunk. Do you want to come over tomorrow for dinner? You know you're always welcomed. I'm sorry they couldn't spend your birthday with you man, that blows. Seriously, stop drinking and go to bed and come over tomorrow, my mom always makes plenty of food."