Glowering down at the sushi Anna had packed me for lunch, I poked at one of the little rolls using the flimsy chopsticks with which it came. Disgusted, I dropped the sticks which were likely to leave splinters on my tongue and instead picked up my history book.
Opening it to one of the many pages I’d dog eared, I stared down at the test, trying to tune out the hum of chatter which filled the air around me.
I’d made it exactly two paragraphs when I felt someone sit down beside me. Sighing, in annoyance I glanced over to find Annie smiling back at me.
“Hi!” she greeted excitedly.
“Hi.” I replied slowly.
Bending over, she reached into her Hello Kitty backpack, and after rummaging around for a moment, held up a folded piece of hot pink construction paper triumphantly.
“This is for you.” She said eagerly, bouncing in her seat as she handed me the paper.
Forcing a smile, I flipped the paper over to where my name was written in purple marker and gold glitter glue.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Open it!” she cried, watching me with excitement.
Humoring her, I carefully ripped the sticker which sealed the paper closed, and unfolded it.
Annalese Clifford cordially requests your presence at her twentieth birthday party on Friday, November seventeenth.
Please RSVP
“Can you come?” Annie demanded, eagerly, scooting closer to me, “Please!”
“Um, yeah.” I laughed, scanning the invitation, “I’ll be there.”
“Michael!” Annie cried, as Michael sat down at the table opposite us, “Calum said he’d come!”
“Well aren’t you just the picture of popularity.” Michael replied.
“This is good.” Annie said happily, “This is great, now I just need to find Katy.”
“Don’t bother.” I sighed, “She won’t come.”
“What do you mean?” Annie asked, her face falling, “Katy is my friend, she has to come.”
“She’s going to homecoming.” I replied.
“Homecoming?” Annie breathed, “When is homecoming? Michael I want to go to homecoming, let’s go to homecoming please.”
“No Annie.” Michael chuckled, “We’re not going. Homecoming is just a stupid football game, then a pathetic dance freshman and sophomores use to try and substitute prom.”
“I want to go to a dance.” Annie said dejectedly.
“It’s not a real dance.” Michael replied, “It’s a grind fest in the gym.”
Looking thoughtful, Annie cocked her head to the side, mulling his words over.
For years Annie’s birthday had taken place on homecoming, so she couldn’t go and we didn’t have to.
“Are you excited for your birthday?” I question, trying to veer the subject away from homecoming.
“Yes!” Annie breathed excitedly, taking the bait, “I’m going to be a grown up!”
“Twenty.” Michael said slowly, “Next year, I’m giving your first beer.”
“Whoah.” Annie laughed.
