Callie Reeves is a perfectionist. She has control over everything from her friends to her grades, the cheerleading squad she captains and anyone inbetween - even when it comes to dating.
After creating a list of rules to keep her no-strings attache...
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After Summer confessed her younger brother was diagnosed with Leukemia, I convinced her to go home. I went around to her teachers and explained the situation - which Summer said was okay - and collected the work she would have missed.
But delivering it this morning was a mistake as she quickly took the opportunity to bring up something I'd hope she would forget.
"Your birthday is in two weeks and we haven't planned anything," she scolds as I drag my feet into the party warehouse, seeing decorations for holidays and parties of all sorts. "It's your eighteenth, we need to do something spectacular."
Naturally, she would want to focus her attention on something else. And I just happen to be a convenient example. If it makes her feel better then I'll endure the party planning, even if I'd prefer not to bother.
I've never celebrated it because I wanted to - it's always Summer trying to plot something extravagant. When I was younger, I just associated it with my parents fighting because dad missed it for work and I stopped asking mother for parties when I was eleven.
It was better than being let down.
"Hollywood seems a bit cliche," Summer plays with a red rope stand, glancing my way with a smile. "Do you have any ideas?"
How about nothing?
I shrug my shoulders, keeping my hands tucked into the pockets on my jacket as I look around the shelves that nearly touch the roof beams. "No idea . . . just not a magical or pink theme again."
"Magical was good . . . I just didn't expect there to be so many cross-dressed fairy- oh," she stops and reaches the end of a corridor, looking around at the aisles. "I've got an idea . . . what do you think of fairy-tales?"
Summer takes off in a brisk walk that forces my pace to quicken because if I don't keep up, I'll lose her. It's happened before and I ended up having to use the PA system to get her paged to the front desk. This place is massive and easy to get lost in.
"A fairy-tale is a cliché."
"No. Like not Little Red Riding Hood and Goldilocks - which you would kill by the way," Summer picks up a glittery gold mask and holds it up. "Like happily ever after. A ball of sorts which is classy and extravagant."
I shake my head slowly, "You realize most eighteen-year-olds spend their birthdays getting wasted at a house party?"
"Yeah but you're not most eighteen-year-olds. Plus it would be unique and a classy fuck you to everyone," Summer returns the mask to the hook and raises an eyebrow. "You still haven't told me who the bitch is that's blackmailing you."
"While I don't want to keep any more secrets from you, I know how you'll react and it'll probably end in suspension."
Summer processes my words and tries to go through a mental list in her head. I avoid looking at her and pull off an intricate black, jeweled mask and contemplate the idea of having a ball for my birthday.
