A/N: Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews on the last chapter. They really keep me going. Sorry it took so long, Lilly. It's been nothing but drama, drama, drama for me lately, and with all that going on I didn't really have the energy to write. But now I have risen from the ashes and come up with a new chapter for y'all.Booya.

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Chapter 25
Happy Birthday To Me

You see, the opportunity never arises for me to tell Christian. Because we never get another second alone the rest of the day. And before I know it, it's the next morning.

I stumble up the stairs around eleven. (Back to my usual rising time. We shuffled sleeping assignments a couple nights ago after I pretended I couldn't sleep because the springs in the pull out couch. I'm on the floor now with Jen. Chase and Sophie have the pull out. Christian is probably reading something into that. Ha ha.) I wander into the dining room and grin at our group, mostly already assembled.

"Happy birthday to me!" I announce.

Christian and Taylor aren't here. They're in the kitchen making breakfast (brunch? lunch? what do you call it at this time of day?), I guess. So I sit down by Chase, my partner in crime. As much as he's screwed up my life, I still love the kid to death. We're like kindred spirits—both a little crazy and probably not as good as we should be. But it takes all kinds, you know?

"Hey, there's my girl," Chase says, slinging an arm around me and giving me a side hug. "Happy birthday." I accept the display of affection because Christian isn't here. West, still oblivious to my actual feelings, grins at me. I just laugh to myself. Today everything is alright. Anything goes.

"So what do you want for your birthday Becka?" Chase asks. I'm expected to say something silly or unusual at the very least. I say the first thing that comes to my mind.

"A boyfriend." Christian, specifically.

"Oh yeah?" Chase asks playfully. "Got anyone in mind?"

Yes.

"I don't know," I shrug. "You think John Mayer's available?"

Chase laughs. I'm sure everybody else in the room is enjoying our cheerful banter. Chase continues, "You know, I was thinking." I open my eyes really wide and gasp, like I'm shocked by the idea. Chase shakes his head an continues, "I don't want to pick out my own wife. I'l probably end up with someone I absolutely hated if I tried to pick a girl. I wish somebody just choose a wife for me, you know? Like an arranged marriage."

"Oooh, oooh. I'll pick for you," I grin, raising my hand like and eager school kid.

"Sounds like a plan," Chase laughs. "I'm sure I'd like whoever you picked."

I'm sure he would. I raise my eyebrows at Jen, who just smiles.

"Hey, let's play a game," Chase says. It isn't so much a suggestion as it is a command. We all wait patiently to hear what he's got in mind.

"Okay, here it is," Chase says, with the air of a man who's explaining something very important. "In honor of Becka's birthday, we all have to tell her either one thing that's really funny, two things that are kind of funny, or three things that are really boring. And in return, Becka has to laugh at them all."

Everybody laughs at Chase's crazy idea. I hit him playfully on the side of the head and say, "You're so weird, Chase."

"I'm not weird," Chase objects. "I'm cute. Okay, who's going to start?"

Amy snorts. "Not me. I don't have time to waste coming up with something stupid to amuse her." She says 'her' with extreme distain, wrinkling her nose. And with that, Amy flounces out of the room.

"I think I'm going to have to go with Amy on this one," Elton says, following his girlfriend out of the room.

Ouch.

"Well at least I've got nothing to worry about, I mean, as long as I can say three boring things," Natalie Banks gushes.

You know how sometimes when you're pissed off you lash out at the wrong person? Yeah. This is definitely not one of my finest moments.

"Actually I think you might have a problem," I say to Natalie.

"Oh, no, I'm sure everything I say is boring," she giggles.

"That's not what I mean," I interrupt before she can continue. "I mean, you'll be limited as to how many boring things you can say. Only three."

The moment I say that I wish I could take it back. Dead silence in the room. Everybody is looking at me, except for Natalie Banks who looks like she's on the verge of tears. I'm such a bitch. I turn my head to the right, and in one second it all gets worse.

Christian is standing in the doorway. And by the look on his face, I can tell he heard the whole thing.

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God.

"Hey Natalie," Christian says. "Me and Taylor need some help making food. I hear you're quite the cook."

Natalie looks up at Christian and gratefully gets up to follow him to the kitchen. And, oh God, the look Christian gives as he steps out of the room. My life is over.

o o o o o o o o o o o

We finally get our moment alone, Christian and I, later on that day. Although I can't say I'm looking forward to it anymore. I'm taking a couple of bags of trash out to the end of West's driveway when Christian catches up with me.

"Becka," he hisses. I can't look at him. I just keep walking.

"Okay, we'll do it this way," Christian says, when he realizes I'm not going to turn around. And then he starts, "Becka, how could you be so horrible to Natalie? I seriously never would've imagined you could do that." His voice is low and even

I try to laugh it off. I look back at him and shrug. "Oh, come on Christian. The girl's ridiculous. You know it as well as I do. I doubt she even got it."

"Believe me, she got everything you said. And yeah, Natalie is a little silly sometimes, but we've known her since we were like three years old. And you know the only reason half these people are nice to her is because you and I are. So when you say things like that you're just giving everyone else a reason to be bitchy to her too."

He's so mad he's almost scary. I turn my back to him again and keep walking. I want to burst into tears. I know I was horrible—that's bad enough. But now Christian is going to hate me forever, and that makes things a thousand times more worse.

"Look, Becka," Christian continues, a little softer now. "It's not like I like having to tell you this stuff. But if I'm not going to tell you nobody is, you know? I just know there an awesome person inside of you somewhere and I just—I just hope someday you prove me right instead of always working so hard to prove me wrong."

He leaves.

I stumble down to the end of the driveway and stuff the bags in the trashcan. Then I sit down on the other side of the trashcan, the side facing the road, the side where nobody from the house can see me. And I just bawl. And bawl. And bawl.

Finally the sobs subside into sniffles. I sit there for a while longer and wait for my face to regain it's normal coloration. People are probably already looking for me. I know I have to head back inside soon. Now. I don't really want to. I just want to sit here with the trashcan. Or maybe lie down in the middle of the road and see how long it takes for a car to hit me.

What does it matter? My life is over anyway.