“All right, I get it, you’re hungry.” I reach for my T-shirt. “I better get up and feed them. They’re used to eating much earlier than this. I can’t believe they let us sleep this late.”
“Nope, you stay put. I’ll do it. It’s your birthday. You stay in bed and check your social media and voicemail birthday wishes. I’ll feed the cats and put together a special birthday breakfast-in-bed for you.”
“Ooh, I like how you think. I could get used to being pampered. Thank you.”
PJ slips on his flannel pants and tosses my pillow to me. The cats follow him to the kitchen, loudly meowing all the way. I pick up my phone again. I have a ton of missed calls, two voicemail messages, fourteen text messages, and countless Happy Birthday posts. I check my voicemails first.
Happy birthday, Little Bug. I know you hate that name. But you will always be Little Bug to me…and your mom too. Wherever she may be. I’m having a nice time visiting with Mom and Dad, but even though it’s only been one night, I’m ready to come back home to you. Before I go any further, I want to let you know how much your card meant to me. I read it repeatedly on the flight to Portland. I cried the whole way. You are my son, even if it’s not by blood. All right, enough rambling from an old woman. Have a happy birthday today. I will try to call you again later, but I’m sure you are busy with PJ and your friends. I accidentally took your birthday card with me in my purse, so I will give it to you, and your gift, when I get home Monday evening. Happy birthday, Simon. I love you.
Well, that was sweet. I save the voicemail to listen to again later and move on to the next one.
Hi, son. Happy birthday! Bet you thought I would forget again. Nope, that’s your old father. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’ve tried you a few times this morning, but I’m sure you must have plans already. I mailed you a card, but I would also like to take you and PJ out to celebrate. Please let me know when would be a good time, okay? I won’t leave a long message, just wanted to say, happy birthday and…um…I love you.
Wow, I don’t think I have ever heard Dad say those words to me before. I lean back on my pillow. I have so many people who love and care about me: Dad, Carole and now PJ. So, what’s wrong with me that I feel so scared all the time? Where does this panic and anxiety come from? I shudder and push the thoughts from my mind and move on to check my text messages.
Mags: Happy Birthday BFF. I’m sure the last thing you want is to hear from me right now, as you and Pajama Boy have probably been up all night DOING IT!! In fact, you are probably doing it right now! Am I right?
Are you still doing it?
Hello?
Yeah, don’t bother answering my texts, it’s fine. I’m getting used to it.
BTW Toni is getting on my nerves and I’m thinking about breaking up with her, but I don’t know, the girl knows how to French kiss.
Oh, the problems of being a young hot lesbian like me. The burden I carry. Anyway, you wouldn’t understand.
Happy Birthday, see you tonight. xxx
ooo
Neel: Happy Birthday. Mom is making you samosas. See you later.
Paul: HAOYB
You’re probably wondering what that means
It means happy anniversary of your birth.
It’s not your birthday, it’s the anniversary of your birth.
Can’t wait for some more teenage drama later!
If that went over your head too, I was being sarcastic again. Shocker!
Latica: Happy Birthday Simon. Hope your day is special. See you at the restaurant later.
Hector: Happy seventeen years from me and Jamal.
Come by Starbucks later for a treat on the house.
Let me know if you need more condoms.
My eyes tear up. It’s true. I have so much love in my life. People who care and look out for me. Family, friends, and a boyfriend. What’s wrong with me? I start to tremble again. My breath becomes shallow. That old familiar feeling in my stomach starts. Okay, Simon. You know what to do. It’s not an alien; it’s not a parasite. Do the breathing exercises PJ’s father taught you. It’s just anxiety.
I stop the breathing exercises after a few minutes and pull out the little brown bag from PJ’s house. I breathe into it. Almost immediately, I start to feel better. Wow, who would have thought something as simple as a crumpled brown bag could be my saving grace? I’m going to carry this with me everywhere from now on. Then I won’t have to worry anymore. If I start to have an episode, I can simply take out my little bag and I will be okay.
“Happy birthday!” PJ carries a tray into the bedroom. He opens the blinds and sunlight shines in, illuminating his furry arms and bare, fuzzy tummy.
