The Quest for Fireworks

Unhappy Birthday

It's my birthday. It feels like any other day. I get up at 8am, fire up the coffee pot and my laptop and get to work.
I write three articles and edit two and before I know it, my birthday is half over. The act of turning another year older isn't as fun as the celebration so Saturday was more of my birthday than today.
I'm about to order dinner from my favorite sushi restaurant when my phone rings. Again, no one calls, not even my mother but given what day it is, I figure it's her. To my surprise, it's Dakota.
I answer, even though I know I shouldn't. "Hello?"
"Happy birthday," she yells into the phone so loud I have to hold it away from my ear.
"Thank you," I say, once she's quiet.
"You home?"
"Yeah?"
"I know," she says, and I'm reminded again to stop sharing my location with her. "I'm coming over."
"You are?" I ask.
"Yup, so if you're ordering dinner, double it and I'll pick it up."
"You know that means paying for it, right?"
She laughs. "Yes, I do. Text me the place, see you soon."
And twenty minutes later, she's at my door, bag of food in hand. I had to text Riley and tell her not to come over because Dakota was here and she texted back "WHAT" and I didn't reply. I don't know either.
"Mmm, I love sushi," Dakota says, sitting next to me at my kitchen table, taking the containers out of the bag. "You have great taste."
"In some things," I say.
"Most things," Dakota says, picking up on my joke.
I have to admit, I have missed being friends with Dakota. Sleeping together made things weird. It's kind of nice to sit here and joke and have dinner.
It's after dinner, when a bottle of wine is half empty that things change.
We're talking over a song by The 1975 that's playing from a playlist I made that has slow, calming songs on it. Some might call it a sex playlist. I don't know why I chose it.
Dakota leans in before I can stop her and kisses me. I'm half drunk, which is becoming a lame excuse, and the contact feels nice. I let her kiss me for a few seconds before I pull away.
"We can't," I say, even though I'm not sure why because technically there's nothing stopping us but me.
"Why not?" She asks, her eyes hazy and her smile crooked.
"Well, I mean I shouldn't," I clarify.
She doesn't ask again, just tilts her head to the side and waits for me to explain.
"It's easy for you," I start. "You're good at casual but for me, I let my feelings get in the way. I can tell myself that this means nothing but to me, that's not true."
She pulls her brows together and studies me for a few long seconds. "You have feelings for me?"
"Sadly," I say, trying to make it sound like a joke but it sounds more like a pathetic admission.
"If you like me, what's all this business with Corinne?"
"Oh, so we're being blunt about it. Ok," I say, taking a deep breath and moving an inch away from her. "I thought I might have feelings for Corinne too but she's as unattainable as you are."
Dakota chuckles like anything could possibly be funny right now. "You're looking for something neither one of us can give you."
"What do you mean?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"You want love. I can't speak for Corinne but I know that's not in the cards for me. Not right now, maybe not ever." Dakota stands and grabs her things. "So, I guess you're right. We shouldn't do this."
I stand up to be on her level. "That's it? All it took was me actually saying the words to get you to see that I have feelings for you? Do you think they just developed over night?"
She stops at my front door. "No, I always knew. But knowing how it affects you changes things."
"That's a pretty shitty thing to say," I half yell.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," she says, reaching for the door knob. "Happy birthday."
The door closes as fast as it opened and she's gone. Like the hurricane that she is, she's left destruction behind.

I get in bed, ready for this day to be over and check my phone. I have a few "hope you had a great birthday texts" but the name that stands out the most is Jordan. He texted me an hour ago and said "hope you ended up having fun." Today definitely wouldn't meet the requirements to qualify as fun.
I text him back with wine still in my system and one eye open in the dark. "Do you want to hang out tomorrow?"
It's past 11pm, I have no idea what his schedule is like so I'm not expecting an answer but ten seconds later a new message pops up.
"I'd love to," it says.
I send him my address. "Meet at my place tomorrow at 1pm."
"See you then," he replies.
I plug my phone in and set it on the bedside table. For the first night in many nights, I fall asleep excited for tomorrow.