Thirty-Three
A force unseen, dragging me to you
It’s just science baby, I can’t fight it
Neither can you
This electro field it pulls
Magnets is all it is, with you
‘Magnets’ from Roses
Suddenly, I’m eighteen.
When I wake up in the morning, I kind of expect something special to have happened. That as adulthood is bestowed on me, my body and mind become something new. Instead I wake up to my school alarm as per normal, roll out of bed, and start my Friday, as I have done every other Friday before.
Mum greets me when I come downstairs.
‘I can’t believe you’ve not gone to work! Don’t you have to be early on Fridays?’ I say, spotting breakfast. It’s smoked salmon and eggs, my favourite, and never seen on a weekday usually. ‘You didn’t need to do this,’ I say, starting to eat.
‘I wanted to. You don’t need to try and do everything, Selena.
Plus, I had some time as I’ve taken the day off for my spa date with Gina.
We got a great deal because we’re going on a Friday, and I can spend tomorrow with you,’ says Mum, kissing the top of my head.
‘I can’t believe you’re eighteen,’ says Mum, hugging me.
‘It feels like yesterday I was pregnant with you.’
She’s got her bags packed for her night away, her walking cane leaning against them. I feel a pang of guilt about her going away because of me.
‘I’d better head off, but I wanted to wish you a proper happy birthday. Especially since I won’t see you until tomorrow. We’re going to have our big day out then, but have a great day, and enjoy tonight with your friends.’
It’s true, tomorrow Mum and I plan to go out for lunch at my favourite pizza spot and then go shopping. Mum picks up her bags and heads to the door, leaning on the cane.
‘Are you going to be okay?’ I say.
‘The point of the cane is to help me be okay,’ she says. ‘It’s fine, I’m taking it more as a precaution.’ She swipes at the air with it. ‘And it’s a good emergency weapon in case I run into trouble!’
‘All the trouble you’re going to get into at the spa.’ I laugh.
‘You should be the one trying not to get into trouble,’ she says. ‘You’re eighteen now. A grown-up!’ She smiles at me. ‘I’m so proud.’
‘Mum,’ I say, suddenly. ‘Thanks for . . .’ The party, the food, raising me single-handed . . . ‘Everything.’
Mum smiles at me. ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘Have fun!’
Before I leave for school, I open the A4 brown envelope Kira gave me yesterday. On it is scribbled in a Sharpie: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL BIRTHDAY. OH, AND FOLLOW ALL INSTRUCTIONS.
I roll my eyes and rip open the envelope.
A bark of laughter involuntarily escapes me.
It’s a sash that says BIRTHDAY GIRL and a tiara that says 18.
There’s a note attached.
Happy birthday, bitch! Instructions are to wear the sash and tiara. Do not protest, as you only turn 18 once! Live your best birthday life!
See you in approximately 15 minutes, as I bet you’ve only opened this before leaving the house. Well done for abiding by the first instruction . . . now you have to do the rest!
PS. Have a great day. We love you!
It is the most Kira thing I’ve ever read. And the last line is clearly Faye.
I sigh and then laugh. Kira’s right, when else would I ever do this? So I put them both on, and wait for Faye to arrive.
Moments later, a text comes through in the Neopolitan group chat, after the flurry of birthday messages this morning. Code red, messages Faye, my car finally has given up from the cold. It’s refusing to start!
Determined not to let anything ruin today, I let Faye know I’ll get the bus. In all honesty, I’m not surprised it’s not starting. The other day it was whining the whole trip.
As I exit my drive and turn right to walk towards school, Ty comes sprinting out of his door. He’s in tracksuit bottoms, Crocs, and a faded Pokemon T-shirt. It’s December, so it is, to say the least, not the most appropriate attire.
‘Selena!’ he calls.
‘Ty?’ I say. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s your birthday,’ he says, pointing at my tiara.
‘Yes?’ I say, bemused.
He pauses, looking abashed. And cold, he’s starting to look very cold. ‘I wanted to say happy birthday,’ he says.
I smile at him. ‘You ran out here in the cold to say that? You have my number now, you know?’
He starts rubbing his arms, hopping from one foot to the other, but still his cheeks turn a little pink. ‘Well, it’s a big deal. And it’s not that cold.’
‘I think you’re changing colour.’
He looks down at his goosebump-covered arms. ‘Come inside,’ he says.
‘What?’ I turn around, look side to side. ‘I need to go to school.’
‘Come on,’ he says, jogging backwards.
I follow him inside.
‘Are your parents here?’ I say as I walk through the front door.
‘Nope, Dad’s gone to work, Mum has a morning meeting with a London client.’
‘Hey, Selena,’ says Daze, appearing from the top of the stairs. He skips down them, holding on to the bannister.
‘What’s up, Daze?’ I say, holding up my hand. He jumps up to high five it.
‘How are you so tall?’ he says.
‘Born that way, I guess.’
‘It’s your birthday,’ he says, pointing at my sash.
‘Here comes Detective Daze,’ I tease.
‘Happy birthday, Selena,’ he replies, so sincerely my heart melts a little bit.
‘Go on, you’ve got to go to school,’ says Ty, shooing Daze to the front door.
‘So does Selena,’ says Daze, as he backs out of the door.
‘Yeah, and she’ll be there soon,’ says Ty. ‘Go annoy your friends at school instead of us.’
‘That’s right,’ says Daze, fist-bumping me on the way out. ‘I’ve made friends now.’
‘You love winding him up,’ I say, laughing, once the door shuts.
‘I was trying to get him to leave,’ says Ty, tugging off his crocs.
‘Didn’t take you for a Crocs man,’ I say.
‘They’re practical!’ he says.
I sigh and pull off my shoes. ‘Why am I here? I’m meant to be going to school.’
‘It’s your birthday,’ he says.
‘As we’ve established. Several times.’
‘So,’ he says, approaching me until we’re inches apart. He looks down at me, at my lips. ‘Let me give you your birthday present.’
My brain stops firing. I’m caught up in his eyes, this invisible string pulling us close together. All I can hear are the lyrics from ‘Magnets’ in my head.
And then he laughs and pushes me on the shoulder.
I flush. Why do we keep doing this game?
He moves around so he’s catching my eye again, but this time it’s friendlier rather than flirty, a sly sparkle in his eye. ‘But I am being serious about the present.’
‘What is the present?’ I say, crossing my arms.
‘The best present I could give to you,’ he says, moving his arm theatrically with each word. ‘The present of my presence.’
I roll my eyes. I thought we were done winding each other up by now. I wedge my shoes back on, pushing past him to the door.
He grabs me by the arm, and pulls me back. ‘I’m being serious. Skip school with me,’ he says.
‘You don’t even go to school,’ I say, but I don’t pull my arm back.
‘Okay, well then skip school for me. Please.’
I catch his eye, and against all better judgement I say, ‘Okay.’