Dad orders pizza and I eat mine in my room. I go over the events of today, the students who made no effort to talk to me and, of course. The one who did choose to talk to me. I tell myself to ask her more about herself later. I'm nervous, oddly enough. I feel like she doesn't really want to be friends with me, why would she want to be friends with a 14 year old. She's older and so effortlessly cool, I can't help feeling like I'm forcing something she doesn't want. She's coming tonight out of pity because Ellie told her it's my birthday.
I let my thoughts spiral until Dad comes in, cracking my door open then putting his head firmly between the door and it's frame. He blinks at me, quiet until I notice his presence.
"You alright, cricket?" he asks.
Staring up at the ceiling, I nod.
"You can come in," I tell him. He does, he comes and sits at the desk I've had since I was 5, the little pink chair groans under his weight as he bends his knees till they reach his chin.
"Ellie says you made a friend?" he said, speaking into the silence of my room.
"Can we put up my little stars soon?" I ask, ignoring talk of friends.
Unconsciously, he clicks his tongue, "We can get some tomorrow, if you like." he says, moaning under his breath about his knees.
He's nearly as weird as Ellie.
"She's coming tonight. Are you?" I ask, pulling my head up, the skin under my skin folding until it's too painful to keep it up.
"I'm gonna meet you there," he tells me, eyeing the patches of damp on my ceiling. I wonder if his bedroom has them too. "I've got something to do first."
"What stuff?" I ask, sitting up to take another bite of pizza.
"Dad stuff."
I don't know what that means? Putting up shelves? Going into the shed for no reason? I also don't care to ask.
A silence passes between us before he speaks again, "Do you want your birthday present?"
I forgot about my birthday. We were never a family for parties or presents, just company. This year was the first without Mum, I'd put off thinking about it all day and now the thoughts arose, replacing my ones of friends.
I sat up straight in bed as Dad came to sit next to me, brandishing a little blue box. Unlike any other jewellry box, except this one was old and worn around the edges, a delicate pattern outlined in faded gold. I recognised it instantly as my Mum's.
Dad snapped open the big box to reveal an elaborate necklace, the bare ecobulb that hung above my head did it no justice. I reached for it with a gasp, half expecting Dad to snap it closed on my fingers like in Pretty Woman.
"I can't wear that." I say through the lump in my throat. It's something a queen would wear, it glimmered with silver and real diamonds. I remembered Mum wearing it, paired with her perfect blond white hair, she looked like a fairy goddess.
"You can," Dad insists, "For special occasions."
I imagined he meant my wedding day, but I wanted to wear it tonight. Even if no one could see it. "Can I wear it tonight?" I asked.
He thought for a long moment, "You can," he sighed, "But if you lose it, I'm disowning you." he says, not even smiling.
"I'll leave it here," he tells me, putting it on my little desk that goes with my little chair. "Wear plenty of layers tonight, it's bloody freezing."
I feel better about myself when I put on the necklace, sure that diamonds have the same healing effect as crystals. I stand in my mirror with it on, paired with my fluffy pink dressing gown I tell myself I have never, and will never look this glamorous ever again.
