xiii. shoulders to lean on

Next week is Von’s birthday. She’s finally turning eighteen as shocking as that is. Another shocker, she’s the baby of the four of us.

Von has always treated herself as royalty and whenever her birthday comes around, she goes above and beyond, showing people she is. Her brother used to call her ‘princess’—he still does—but it’s a bit weird seeing as she’s much more than that.

I can’t be any more grateful because the pile of invites sitting in front of me on my vanity requires all my attention and focus to write, decorate, stamp, package, and seal.

Her birthday invites are never the same material or color each year. This year the cards are a dark, sturdy, glossy material with encrusted gold glitter and a soft gold plate on the front where we write the invites. The envelope is a vivid violet.

She gives Jo, Gina, and me the honors of inviting whoever we want unless it’s someone who wants to kill her. Her words.

Von has always liked it when we do the invites because it seems more personal that way, and we all get to add our own style to them as long as it fits the theme.

I love that she goes all out for her birthday because the rest of us don’t. It’s a nice change.

It’s also the perfect distraction from my thoughts for now and I take my time with the typography and making sure I don’t mess up, not even a little bit.

Throughout this, I ignore the insistent messages and calls that come in every few seconds. It’s tolerable now because I’d silenced my phone hours ago. My girls don’t give up, and I admire that but I know they’d somehow found out what happened today—social media is today’s greatest but worst asset.

My phone lights up again and I glance at it involuntarily, making my hand slip. I scowl at the weird line jutting out from the flower I’d been doodling.

Frustrated, I drop the purple gel pen on the table and reach for my phone. I turn on my chair and toss it across the room, onto my bed, before going back to fix my mistake.

Only I can’t concentrate because I’m thinking too hard about talking to them about what happened even though I don’t want to. Not yet.

I’ve been keeping it locked away, just like the rest of my less pleasant memories with Calvin. I want to forget him—forget I ever knew him—but I can’t. Not if he keeps popping up and reminding me he’s alive.

A knock at my door pauses my turmoil.

“No brothers allowed!” I call out. Leaning back in my desk chair, I run my fingers through my hair, pressing down on my scalp to find the ‘off’ button for my brain to stop digging up past mistakes.

My life is amazing. I have great friends, an awesome family and I’m going to my dream college. Life can only get better for me if I win the lottery or I get drunk in Vegas and end up marrying a billionaire who’s ready to settle down and be happy with me and have five children. Four of them being adopted.

“I really need to stop reading those books,” I mutter to myself, massaging my scalp slowly.

“And what kind of books are those?”

I smile at the sound of my dad’s voice.

“I hope it’s nothing like that Fifty Shades thing I’ve been hearing about,” he says.

My eyes are still close when I grimace. “I tried that,” I say, shaking my head. “Wasn’t that great.”

Dropping my hands, I turn to face him, hanging on the back of the chair. He’s sitting at the end of my bed, looking disturbed.

“Your mother?” he says knowingly.

I shrug. “Maybe.” Once I’d hit eighteen, my mom said I could read anything on her bookshelf. She’d meant it.

He grumbles under his breath, staring at my carpet. When he looks up, his expression is miserable as he says, “I just wanted you to stay little a while longer. Is that a lot to ask?”

Snickering, I drag myself up from my chair to plop down next to him on my bed. “Yes,” I say playfully, pushing his glasses up on his nose with my index finger.

Kellan might’ve gotten our dad’s build but that’s about all he got from what I can tell. Let’s just say, he’s not where Kellan gets his football skills from. I’ve seen them play.

Sure dad’s into sports like every other man, but he’s a geek first—he knows he is and he owns it. He’s more technologically paired and is absolutely divine at cooking. But sports… not his best quality.

“That time of year again isn’t it?” he says.

I follow his gaze to the stack of invitations on my desk and place my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, it’s gonna be a fun week.” I’m not saying it to be sarcastic, I mean it. Von is one of those people who celebrate her birthday over the expanse of a week and every day is a theme.

“I swear her birthday was three months ago,” he says, making me laugh.

I close my eyes, basking in the silent moment that follows. Only he can make my mind go blank whenever I’m overthinking or contemplating driving off a cliff.

“I don’t know what happened today,” he starts, popping the safe, confined bubble he’d put me in. “Kory left the house angry some time ago and Kellan’s mood seemed darker downstairs,” he elaborates.

My eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion at the latter. “That’s possible?”

My dad snorts, his arm circling my back. His hand rests on my upper arm and he squeezes me into his side. “It is. He has your old man’s temper.”

I pull back to stare at him, shaking my head. “You’re nothing like Kellan.”

I’m not saying it as an insult. Sure, there are instances where they remind me of each other, but temper wise… My dad has always been carefree and jovial. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him lose his cool. He and Kellan have always been opposites to me for the most part. If anything, Kory’s closer to being dad than Kellan is.

He smiles at me like he knows something I don’t. He doesn’t disagree though. Instead, he says, “Whatever it is, you can get through it. You are a strong, independent young woman. Just like your mother.”

I smile at him as he runs his hand along my arm. If I hadn’t made it clear before, this is half the reason why I’m as confident in myself as I am now.

“Did you add that young part for me or for mom?” I tease.

“Just tell her I said that,” he says, his smile devious.

“Thanks, daddy.”

He squeezes me into his side again soothingly. “It’s what I’m here for.” He kisses the side of my head. “Literally. They threatened me to come soften you up but just know that I meant every word.”

I lean away to meet his gaze. “They?”

“Thank you, daddy.” Von’s voice comes from my bedroom door.

She pushes the door open dramatically to reveal herself while Jodene and Gina peek out from behind her.

“Please, convince her to stop calling me that,” my dad says lowly.

“I’ll try,” I promise. “But you know she’s set on marrying Kellan.”

“Yes, I am,” Von replies, modeling into the room as she stares at her phone. She looks at us when she’s close enough, and grins. “And when I do, you’ll be daddy-in-law, Mr. Santiago.”

Sighing, my dad pats my arm once before getting up. “I have to go find my son,” he says, then leaves.

“Pity he doesn’t know Kellan’s crazy about her too,” Jodene mutters, taking the vacant spot my dad left.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, glancing at each of them.

They did a good job of getting him to ‘soften me up’ because I have no clue what my reaction would’ve been had they show up without his help. I’d been a wallowing, slowly deteriorating inside, kind of mood, and was in no mood to talk about it.

“You have some explaining to do,” Gina says. She sits on my other side. “But first, how are you doing?”

“We know what happened today,” Von says, turning my desk chair around to sit facing us. She crosses her legs, then her arms. “We’ll forget you ignoring our calls and texts, though. Not like we’d been worried you could be dead or anything.”

“Sorry, I was- I’m fine,” I say. “I needed some time, but I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Jodene says, rubbing my back.

“I’m okay,” I say with a laugh. “I got the rest of the day off out of it. Paid of course.”

“I don’t believe you,” Von sings, “but I’ll pretend I do if that’s what you want.” She uncrosses her legs and pushes herself to the edge of the chair, a giddy smile on her face now. “Show her the video.”

Not three seconds later, I’m watching an Instagram video of Reese holding Calvin’s head against a table at BBW. The video’s taken from a farther distance and an angle where Reese’s face is bearly visible, but then Gina starts scrolling down.

“Why’s there so much?” I shouldn’t be shocked but there are a lot of them.

Someone had even gotten a clip of what had happened before Reese had stepped in out of nowhere. That one makes me cringe and a repulsed shudder runs down my spine before I look away from the phone.

“Because harassing assholes like him need to be put on blast,” Gina replies, now watching a boomerang of Calvin getting his head slammed against the table.

“But just so we’re clear,” Von says, “we’re not here to pressure you into talking about it because I know how you feel about the demon.”

I hold back a smile but hear Gina giggle. I can’t tell if it’s from what Von said or the boomerang she’s still watching.

“So until you’re ready…” She gets up and makes a shooing motion with her hands. We all take the motion for what it is and scoot up on my bed. Von climbs onto the end and doesn’t stop until she’s practically laying on all three of us. “Let’s watch another video of me and Jo singing the fuck out of *LA Devotee*.” That we do.

We watch a lot of videos of them singing that night at Lorenxo’s party. Repeatedly, because it’s fun. This kind of fun is what I need right now.