Prologue: Sixteen
"Happy birthday, Mo!" some person from school said as they walked by. I turned and waved, giving them a smile, and returned to the serious task that I was dealing with in that moment.
Okay, white or wheat? I thought to myself. With a glance down at my hand, I studied the shopping list that my mom had given to me. "Wheat," I said, looking back up and grabbing the first bag of bread I saw, tucking it under my arm. Then I was off again, speed-walking down the aisles to the frozen food section.
"Do you need any help, miss?" some random store attendant asked.
I called a 'no' over my shoulder as I sped by her. I wanted to go home, not stand around and discuss the best kind of frozen pizza, which I was picking out at that moment. I settled for supreme, knowing that my family liked it best.
Next item on the list: ice cream. Get at least two flavors, Mom had written. You pick, we'll eat whatever. Score.
I thought over the selection of ice cream that the store had to offer. There was an entire freezer full of my options. "Chocolate? No, chocolate is too boring…," I mumbled to myself. Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked sounded good, paired with their Phish Food ice cream. I added those to the pile of groceries in my arms.
I hobbled my way to the bakery section. Mom had requested that I get a cake from there, claiming she'd already ordered one. All I needed to do was pick it up.
While I stood in front of the display case, peering around the pizza I had squished into my armpit, another attendant strolled over with a cart. I thanked her graciously and arranged my food items inside. She walked off again.
"Monet?" someone from behind the cases called out.
"Right here," I answered, assuming they meant me. I didn't know anyone who's first name was Monet. I made a face at the thought. It was bad enough my first name was Kristy. I felt bad for the possibility of a chick walking around with her first name being Monet.
I blew out a puff of air. My thoughts were becoming weird and random. I was confusing myself.
The lady handed the cake to me. "What kind is it?" I asked her, trying to summon up a scrap of x-ray vision to see inside.
"It's vanilla, with white frosting."
"Is the frosting whipped?"
"No, I don't believe so."
I thanked the lady for the cake and set it in the cart with a grimace. Frosting was disgusting. The only kind I liked was the whipped stuff. The rest I refused to eat. I wondered who the cake was for. Probably someone at Mom or Dad's work.
I was picking out different flavors of pop when someone yelled. "Mo!"
I nearly dropped the bottle of Pepsi I had in my hand. I turned toward the girl's voice, spying Jenna fast-walking toward me with a big smile, her cousins in tow.
Her cousins.
My heart thudded loudly in my chest as the three of them grew nearer. I tried so hard to not stare at Brendon, but God, it was so hard. His blond hair was slightly tousled; his cheeks were a little flushed from the effort of keeping up with his ever-energetic cousin, Jenna. His twin brother, Brayden, looked similar. I smiled at the irony of those thoughts.
Jenna, my best friend, threw her arms around me. "Happy birthday, Mo!" she squealed.
"Thanks!" I exclaimed, hugging her back while awkwardly trying to place the bottle in the cart. Someone took it from my hand and set it in there for me. Jenna let go and I saw it was Brayden who'd done it. I nodded acknowledgement to him.
"Happy birthday," he said with a grin. Brayden was always the more outgoing one. He was the cuter one, too, but for some strange reason I liked his brother more. It was funny; Brendon's and my personalities were polar opposites.
Brendon took a step forward. A small smile played across his lips. "Happy birthday, Mo." My name, so loved by me because it wasn't my real name, sounded ever the more sweet when it escaped from his mouth.
I gave a confident smile. "Thanks." My superpower: confidence around guys. And my mimicry, I guess.
"Aw, so cute!" Jenna squeaked.
"Aw, so cute!" I said in a completely perfect imitation of Jenna's voice. Brendon blushed and looked away. Brayden watched me with a goofy smirk.
Jenna crossed her arms in mock anger. "Why do you do that to me?"
I stuck out my tongue. "'Cause it's fun, and I'm good at it." Don't forget my modesty.
She laughed, said good-bye, and ushered the two boys away.
I grabbed another bottle of Pepsi and headed for the check-out aisle.
oOoOo
"No, I'm serious!" I screamed into my cell phone.
Grace's ears must be ringing by now. I'd called her, my other best friend, in happy hysterics because Brendon had wished me a happy birthday. My voice rose in pitch each time I spoke, which probably drove her crazy.
"I can't believe it! Best birthday ever, huh?" Grace said, sounding like she was smiling on the other end. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm on my way home. Mom had me pick up some groceries for her."
"Sounds like a fun time. When do you get presents?"
"Not sure. Probably after we eat." I was pulling into the driveway of my house as I said this. "Hey, Grace, I'm home, so I'm going to let you go now."
"Alright, cool. Tell Adam I said hello." After the promise that I would and a birthday wish from Grace, we hung up.
oOoOo
"…Happy birthday, dear Mo. Happy birthday to you!" Mom, Dad, and my brother, Adam, sang happily.
"Now blow out the candles!" Mom ushered.
That stupid lady. She'd called the bakery chick and told her to lie about the kind of cake! It was really a chocolate cake with whipped vanilla frosting, and Happy 16th, Mo! was scrawled across the top of it in blue gel. Tiny blue and orange candles, sixteen of them to be exact, were scattered around with tiny flames dancing atop them. Regardless of my irritation with her, I sucked in a breath and blew out each individual light.
Adam wrapped his strong, tanned arms around me and squeezed. He planted a kiss on the top of my head. "Happy b-day, sis," he said in his moderately husky voice.
Adam was eighteen, a senior in the same high school I went to. He had rumpled curls the color of mud. A gross comparison, yes, but accurate. He also had the same crystal blue eyes as me and our mom. Dad's eyes were more greenish than bluish.
Now, most girls dream of having some big, expensive Sweet 16 party, but I was perfectly content to spend the evening with just the four of us. I took a bite of pizza, the very same pizza I'd bought that day. The Pepsi was also dumped into assorted plastic cups. Ben & Jerry were thawing on the counter. Those sneaky people I called my family.
A few slices of pizza later, Mom was snapping pictures and Dad was cutting the cake into neat little squares. Adam pulled a piece out of the middle, the one that had Mo written on it, and put it on a plate with a sample of each flavor of ice cream. He handed it to me. I took it gratefully, then regretted it, because only a few seconds later, Adam picked up the cake and shoved it into my face, smearing chocolate and frosting all over my nose and around my mouth, looking like a crude makeup job.
Snap! Mom took a picture as it happened.
I couldn't help laughing, no matter how angry I was that he'd just squished my name all over me. He joined me, and then our parents did, too. I couldn't imagine a better day as I licked the frosting and cake mixture around my mouth.
oOoOo
A new computer game and pair of black boots later, I was changed into pajamas and passed out on my bed, my iPod playing softly on my nightstand.
oOoOo
"I love you, Mo. I always have," Brendon smiled, taking my hands.
"I love you, too." My eyes were filling with tears. It was officially the best day of my entire life. The guy of my dreams, the boy I'd loved since eighth grade, was finally admitting his affection for me.
His glittering green eyes glistened as he leaned in. I followed suit, closing my eyes. Time for the perfect kiss.
Poke.
I imagined that it was just my heart, hammering away in my chest, and continued to move closer. Nothing would ruin this moment.
Poke.
Everything was moving in slow motion. We were so close-
POKE!
I snapped my eyes open, interrupting my beautiful dream, and flung myself off my bed, swinging my leg to hit Adam's face that I was sure was grinning. I'd taken martial arts for three years; I frequently practiced my moves on him.
"God, Adam, why did you have to ruin it?" I screamed, kicking with all my might.
My right foot connected with flesh.
"Ow!" a man's voice exclaimed.
It wasn't my father. It certainly wasn't Adam.