“Hey,” I grab her hand, “I didn’t mean to make you sad, pretty girl.” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes.
“It’s just been so lonely, Aussy. I stopped our tradition after our seventeenth birthday. I was so angry and hurt, I never made it to thirteen butterflies.” She touches my chest, laying her hand over my number thirteen tattoo right above my heart.
“Baby, it’s okay.” I pull her in for a hug. “We’re together now, and we can make new memories. We make the rules.” I kiss the top of her head, frustration coursing through me at the time that we’ve been robbed.
“Let’s not talk about it right now, it’s movie night.” I change the subject. “What are we watching? A chick flick? The Notebook?” She shakes her head, an evil smile teasing her lips. The movie starts, the title appearing on screen. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I look down at her. “You know, you really haven’t changed at all.”
She giggles.
We cuddle in and start the movie. My mind is now spinning, thinking up ways to make our shared day the most memorable we’ve had yet. I smile to myself, knowing what I need to do.
TWELVE
VIX - AGE THIRTEEN
“I don’t like surprises, Austin!”I whine.
It’s nighttime, and I’m blindfolded. Austin insisted on bringing me out like this so that I wouldn’t ruin the surprise he has planned. Today, Austin and I are both thirteen years old. We share the same birthday, the thirteenth of September, born eight hours apart. It’s our lucky year.
We’ve celebrated together since the first year we became friends. Our celebration typically includes ice cream at Scoopers and a movie at the Red and Black. We always take a moment in our day to write down what we wish for that year and then bury our wishes in our secret box beneath our graffiti picnic table.
This is the first year we haven’t done any of those things since Austin’s mom has been needing more help around the house with his dad being away so often.
“Give me two minutes, Vix, I swear you’re gonna love it!” he says. I can hear him rustling with something beside me. He walked me here, insisting that if I saw where we were going, it would ruin everything.
The air is cool tonight, with the changing of seasons rightaround the corner, and goosebumps are forming on my arms and legs.
“Hurry up, Aussy,” I whine, patience wearing thin. I’m cranky because today just hasn’t felt right. It’s nothing like how we usually do things.
“Okay, you can take off the blindfold,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I unfasten the knot at the back of my head and remove the fabric.
Laid out in front of me is a blanket surrounded by lanterns on the school’s football field. On the blanket is a picnic basket, a boom box and some paper and pens. The field is dark, with all the lights turned off for the night. I look up to the sky and see the stars flickering above, and my heart swells.He did this for me.I turn to look at Aussy, who’s staring at me intently.
“Do you like it?” he asks, with so much hope in his eyes. Do I like it? This is everything and more.
“Like it?” I reply and throw my arms around his neck, showing him just how much I love it.
“Okay, okay.” He chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He takes a seat on the blanket and hits play, starting up some music on the boombox. All the Same by Sick Puppies plays, and he hums along to the song. I take a seat beside him, reaching out to open the picnic basket. “AH.” He swats at my hand. “Not so fast!” he warns. I sit with my hands in my lap, pouting at him, a silent plea for him to let me see what he’s brought. He digs through the basket and pulls out two cupcakes.
“One for you, and one for me,” he announces while setting them down on napkins in front of us. He places a candle in each and then hands me a small piece of paper to write down my wish. Taking one for himself, he scoots hisbody to face mine and clears his throat. “I thought we could do things a little differently this year,” he says. “You didn’t think I’d skip our tradition, though, did you?” he asks, and I shrug my shoulders.
“I thought maybe you thought it was dumb now,” I tell him, lowering my head. I don’t want him to see the sadness of my confession in my eyes. I feel his finger under my chin as he tilts my head back to meet his gaze.
“This is my favourite part of our birthday, Mavix,” he tells me, and smiles his beautiful Aussy smile. I give him a shy smirk in return.
“So what are you wishing for this year?” I pry, quirking an eyebrow.
“You know I’m not going to tell you. Nice try,” he replies.
“Oh come on, it can still come true, Aussy. That’s just a superstition,” I whine.
“Maybe, but are you willing to risk telling me what you wish for if it means you’ll never end up winning a million dollars? I’m sure as hell not taking that chance.” I laugh, but deep down I know he’s right. I sit there for a moment, thinking about what I want to wish for, even though I know it’s going to be the same thing I always wish for. It never changes. Wishing for something different? Another risk I’m not willing to take.
I wish Austin would like me back…I fold the paper, creating a small origami butterfly that we’ve mastered making over the years. He folds his paper up, and we place them together in our box. A box so worn and dirty, but it continues to serve its purpose. We place it in a plastic bag and put it aside to bury under the picnic table tomorrow. I strike a match and light our birthday candles.
One wish on a butterfly, and one wish on a candle. Welook at each other, smiles stretched across our faces, before closing our eyes tight and making our wishes again. Once we’re finished, we blow out the candles and chow down on the cupcakes. This night was everything I could have hoped for. I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.
AUSTIN
