Chapter 49
“It’s badass, seriously,” CJ assures me.
It hurt like a bitch and was weeping with plasma and blood, so the tattoo artist bandaged it so I could put my fucking shirt back on.
“Thanks, man. I always told myself it’d be the first thing I did when I turned eighteen. Thanks for coming with me,” I say sincerely. CJ’s one of a kind. Love him to death.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” CJ asks, driving us back into Swiftwater Valley.
“I mean, probably? She’s never had a strong opinion about tattoos, but I’ve never hidden the fact that I want them. Besides, me, you, and the tattoo artist are the only people on the planet who’ll ever know the meaning behind the tattoo.”
“You’re not going to tell her?” CJ asks, theatrics in full force, flailing his arm in my face.
“Eyes on the road! Fuck no. I’m not telling her. She doesn’t need to know.”
So what if I’m hopelessly in love with Delilah Tate.
So what if my best friend’s the love of my life, but she doesn’t know, and will never find out, because she doesn’t feel the same way. I refuse to jeopardize our friendship over my feelings.
“Alright, alright, loverboy. Cool your jets,” CJ admonishes.
I turn up the stereo and let Randy Travis do the talking the rest of the drive home.
I carefully peel the bandage off my pec, doing my best to follow the tattoo artist’s instructions. It stings when I wash it and pat it dry, but the ointment soothes the burn.
The full color sun bursts to life off my winter-paled skin.
Rays pour from the sun on all sides towards my shoulder, sternum, and ribcage.
The center of the sun is graced with the delicate face of a beautiful woman.
The tattoo artist did a phenomenal job bringing Delilah’s perfection into ink-form in a subtle, minimalist way that doesn’t make it look like I have a photo realistic picture of my unrequited love tattooed over my heart.
The tattoo artist asked me why a sun? And since I don’t know the guy and may never see him again, I told him everything.
Hours passed as needles punctured ink permanently beneath my skin.
I told countless stories about Delilah. From the day I found her crying in the dirt, to the other day when she kissed my cheek and I nearly fainted.
Delilah, my Delilah doll, my fallen angel—is my sunshine. She’s the brightest part of every day, fills me with energy and purpose, and always lights my way through the darkest times.
I re-bandage my chest as a precaution. I can’t risk anyone bumping me or hugging me too hard and my shirt rubbing against the raw skin at the party tonight.
In a twist of cosmic fate, my dollface and I share a birthday, one year apart.
Today as I turn eighteen, she turns seventeen.
It breaks my heart I’ll be graduating in the spring, and she’ll be stuck for one more year.
At least Izzy’s graduating too. maybe after she’s gone, the relentless bullying will stop, since it’s not Delilah they’re witch-hunting.
My parents agreed to host our annual joint birthday party in our rec room so long as there’s “no banging, boozing, or blazing.”
I love my dad so much. He’s everything a man and a father should be, and I hope to be just like him someday.
If I’m lucky to love someone as much as he loves my mom, I’ll have won in life. My heart jerks at the reminder that love will never be with Delilah.
The party’s in full swing, and as promised, there’s been no shenanigans. We didn’t invite a big group, just our best friends and they all respect my folks.
Quincy couldn’t come home from college, since she was just here for Christmas, but she called me earlier and wished me and Delilah a happy birthday.
“So what happens now, big guy?” a friend from wrestling asks.
“Got a job with the department of transportation. They’ll have me working as a traffic flagger on weekends until graduation. Hopefully I get promoted to highway maintenance,” I say, draining a glass of Mom’s famous lemonade.
“Dude, you’re the only person I know who’s excited to work for the DOT. Power to you, man. Should make decent money, though,” he says.
And he’s right. One of the main reasons I applied for the DOT was the pay structure. I’ve been saving money from odd jobs over the years, but if I want to get serious about ever buying the white house with the blue door by the library, I need to save some serious cash.
A tender hand touches the center of my back, and I melt, knowing it’s her.
“Here’s another lemonade, you drank that one so fast I turned right around and got us new ones.” Delilah giggles.
She’s so fucking pretty. Her white hair’s pulled into a half ponytail, with two pieces left out to frame her doll-like face. She’s wearing a cute dress she found at the consignment store over Christmas. It’s black and covered in tiny white and yellow flowers. It suits her perfectly.
I hope she didn’t notice I slipped cash in her wallet when we got home from shopping that day. She works so hard for her money, what little her mom doesn’t take, but she wouldn’t let me buy the dress for her. So, I “paid her back” on the down low.
“Thanks, dollface.” I give her an awkward side-hug and kiss the crown of her head.
“You’re welcome.” Her crystalline eyes twinkle up at me, and I look away quickly because I don’t want to get caught staring like I so often do.
“Are you having a good birthday?” I ask, busying myself with the glass of lemonade.
“It’s perfect. Your mom said she’d swat my fanny if I thanked her one more time for hosting.” Her giggle tinkles like windchimes, sprinkling goosebumps across my arms.
“Gifts!” someone shouts, and we gather around the pool table at the center of the rec room where a couple of presents are stacked.
My parents already gave me my gift—the title to my car. It was so generous for them to buy me a car when I turned sixteen, but I never considered it mine until I held the pink slip.
I haven’t told Delilah because I know for a fact her piece of shit mom didn’t do shit for her birthday, and her dad hasn’t been home in years.
Izzy, Livy, and a small group of girls scramble for a small pink box on the pool table to hand to Delilah. She slides her fingers beneath the tape and along each edge of the wrapping paper, careful not to tear it, like she always has.
Her eyes shine with pure joy, aimed right at me. What did I do in a past life to deserve her smiles? I’m not the one who got her the gift, but it’s me she shares her happiness with.
“A new e-reader! Thank you so, so much!” she gushes, hugging each of the girls.
“We pooled our money and got the newest one, and there’s a gift card in the box so you can buy some e-books, but my mom said you can hook it up to the library too!” Livy prattles on.
Tears shine in those diamond eyes, but they’re the happy kind, so I stay where I am.
A few more little gifts go to my doll, and her smile widens with each present.
She’s so thankful it hurts my heart. Someday, I’ll shower her with so many gifts and tokens of affection, she’ll forget all about how shitty her parents are.
Fuck them for making her think she doesn’t deserve even the smallest birthday gift.
Only one of the gifts on the table is for me—high school guys don’t really buy each other presents—but of course, CJ plays by his own rules.
It’s a white envelope with my name scrawled across the front. I tear off the end and tap the contents into my hand.
CJ pipes in immediately. “Sorry, Connor. I thought I was buying a year subscription for online video game play, but I accidentally bought a year subscription to that unlimited e-book subscription. And would you look at that, it’s the same company as the e-reader Delilah got!”
He gives me an exaggerated wink. Fucking drama queen. I swear everyone sees right through him.
Delilah must not, because when I hand her the gift card, she cries and wraps both me and CJ in a hug. I’m momentarily jealous before I remember he’s blissfully gay.
“You boys are the best!” We each get a kiss on the cheek and whereas CJ is unaffected, I scurry off for a refill of lemonade to hide my flushed cheeks from everyone and slow my heart rate to non-heart attack levels.
The party slowly starts to clear out, some people moving to parties that have “banging, boozing, and blazing,” while others have curfew. Livy’s mom’s coming to take her and the twins home, so I only have a few minutes to get Delilah alone to give her my gift.
I find her exiting the bathroom and grab her by the wrist, pulling her out of view.
“Connor.” She giggles. “What’re you doing?”
“I wanted to give you your birthday present in private.” Hopefully it’s dim enough over here she won’t notice how red my face is.
“Connor…we promised no presents. I can’t buy you anything…” she says embarrassed.
“I don’t need anything, I’ve told you a million times. Besides, the people at the store practically threw this at me and begged me to take it, and I couldn’t say no.” I wink at her, and it’s barely light enough to see her blush, meaning she saw mine.
I take a small white cardboard box from my pocket. It’s been burning my leg all night and I can finally give it to her.
Despite her protests, she takes the box, adorably excited to open another present.
A gasp is cut off by her hand covering her mouth.
“Connor…it’s so pretty.” She traces the cool metal on the foam block in the jewelry box.
“Put it on me?” she asks.
I take the box from her and twirl my finger for her to turn around. She sweeps her doll-like hair into a ponytail and my dick jerks at the exposed column of her neck.
My fingers struggle to clasp the delicate chain around her neck. She spins around and bathes me in her sunlight.
“I’ve never had anything so nice…” she coos.
Perfectly decorating her chest is a small sun pendant. The center is a silver color, and the rays are golden. When I saw it, I knew it was meant for her. I had to dip into my savings, but it was worth it to put joy on her face.
Thankfully, she doesn’t ask why a sun, because if she asked, I’d tell her the truth and fuck everything up. If friends is all we’ll ever be, I’ll be the best friend she could ever ask for.
“I’m never going to take it off,” she promises, and I like it more than I should.
“Happy birthday, dollface,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“Happy birthday, studmuffin.” She squeezes right back.