My heart sinks as I realize she forgot what today is. “Birthday,” I say, my voice flat.
“But my birthday isn’t until…” Her eyes widen before her expression transforms into one filled with guilt. Her shoulder slump as she lowers the bouquet. “It’s your birthday.”
“Every January third.”
She releases a shaky breath. “Your eighteenth birthday.”
I nod.
Tears well in her eyes. “Oh, Ella. I wasn’t paying attention to the dates. You know how time gets weird after Christmas. I really do know when you were born.”
I know she does, but it hurts that her thought was that these were from her deadbeat boyfriend. She didn’t even consider the possibility that someone cared enough to send them to me. I snatch the flowers from her. “Well, thankfully, not everyone did.”
I turn on my heels and storm back to my room.
My mom is right behind me. “Ella.”
I slam the door behind me and lock it. Flowers in hand, I lean my back against the door fighting the tears that threaten to fall. A pain forms in my chest, and I hug the flowers against me in an effort to make it go away. All I succeed in doing is poking myself in the eye with some of the greenery. I’m crying, but I pretend it’s from the injury and has nothing to do with the fact that my mom forgot my birthday.
Someone knocks on the door.
“Go away,” I yell at her.
“You can’t talk to her like that,” Chad says on the other side.
“Yes, she can,” my mom says. Her voice is quiet.Defeated. I know she’s sorry, but I can’t talk to her yet. It hurts too much. There’s a pause before she adds, “I’m so sorry.” I can hear her hand as she runs it down the other side of the door. She stands outside my bedroom for a little longer before she taps on the door with her knuckles and walks away.
I let the tears run down my cheeks for a couple of minutes before I push off the door and set my bouquet on my dresser. The flowers really are so gorgeous. I just wish their beauty wasn’t marred by the fact that my mom forgot my birthday—my eighteenth birthday. At least Connor didn’t forget.
Oh, crap. Connor.
I run to my bed and grab my phone. There are a few unread messages from him.
Do you like them?
I just got a delivery notification.
I hope I got the address right. I used the school directory to look it up.
Ella?
I feel terrible. He planned out this sweet surprise, and he has no clue how much they meant to me. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hands as I try to formulate a response.
Sorry. I passed out. Did you know roses put me in anaphylactic shock?
My phone immediately starts buzzing. It’s Connor, and I slide my finger across the screen to answer his call.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m kidding.” I snort and sit on the edge of my bed. “I passed out because the bouquet was so big it knocked me over and I hit my head.”
“Ella.”
“Connor.”
“Please don’t scare me like that. Could you imagine if I really sent you a death bouquet? People would think I was trying to kill you.”
I laugh. He’s right. No one other than Lily and probably Hardy knows we’re dating. Who knows if anyone has been paying attention the last couple of months to see the change is how we act with each other. “Could you imagine the assembly Dr. Freck would have to do after that? ‘Bullying has gone too far.’"
