Chapter 27
twenty-seven
As it turned out, sneaking a boy out of the house was much more simple than I expected.
I was sure it was in part because he wasn’t actually in the house, but rather in the backyard, but all it took was Ainsley distracting Mum so she wasn’t looking out the kitchen window, Sebastian showing him the way through the back gate, and Lavender being the lookout for both that and for me to sneak upstairs and change into running clothes so Mum thought I’d just gotten up early for a jog instead of being asleep in the tree house. Easy peasy.
After that, we all sat down for birthday pancakes.
They were the slightly burned kind, because Mum always tried to cook and talk at the same time, and the blueberries bled into the batter in dark, inky spots.
Sebastian insisted on lighting the candles even though it was morning and the sun was already coming through the windows, and Ainsley leaned over and blew them out before the song was even finished because she wanted all the candles to herself instead of sharing them with me. I just laughed.
The rest of the day slipped by, moving so quickly that I barely felt it pass by.
Birthday cards on the kitchen counter. A few presents opened and set aside for later.
Messages piling up on my phone from people who were coming and people who couldn’t.
Mum went out twice and came back both times with things she definitely hadn’t left for.
I went for a real run this time, because it felt easier than sitting still.
When I got back, the house smelled like vanilla and sugar, like Mum was still making more and more cookies because she always worried about running out.
If Dad was here, he’d probably already be complaining that we had too many or sneaking dough straight from the bowl when Mum wasn’t looking.
I stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment, just long enough to take in the heat from the oven and the steady rhythm of Mum moving around, then grabbed a cookie off the cooling rack and escaped before she could notice.
Somebody had to do it, even if he wasn’t here to do it himself.
By mid-afternoon, the house had taken on that pre-party hum.
Music floated up from downstairs in short bursts as Sebastian tested playlists and changed his mind.
Lavender darted through the hall with an armful of fairy lights, nearly taking me out at the knees.
Mum vacuumed rooms that already looked fine.
Ainsley and I took over the upstairs bathroom and told Lavender—the only other one who shared it with us—in no uncertain terms that she would have to get ready somewhere else.
Our dresses were still hanging in our rooms, untouched for now, but the counter was already cluttered with hair tools and brushes.
“I think I’m going to straighten my hair,” Ainsley said, plugging in the flat iron and setting it on the counter. She caught my eye in the mirror. “How about you?”
“I’m going to curl mine,” I said. I grinned as I met her gaze. “Maybe people will actually be able to tell us apart for once.”
She laughed. “Unlikely.”
We worked around each other the way we always did, trading outlets and elbow space without asking.
She sectioned her hair with practiced efficiency, clamping and sliding the iron down each strand until it fell sleek and shiny against her shoulders.
I wrapped curls around the barrel of the iron and counted in my head, letting them drop one by one into loose spirals.
Ainsley grabbed her hairspray for a final spritz, but she paused mid-air and looked at me in the mirror. “Hey, Imogen?”
She suddenly sounded much more serious and I looked at her hesitantly. “Yeah?”
“Do you… do you really think Dad might show up?”
I tried to school my expression, not wanting her to see the certainty on my face.
If I acted too sure about it, she would know for certain that I’d invited him and I couldn’t let her know that, when I still hadn’t told her that I was visiting him at all.
I slowly put the curler down, thinking of the best thing to say.
“I think he might,” I settled on. “I mean, you know how much he loves birthdays, and it’s the perfect time to try to mend bridges, right?”
Ainsley froze, fingers tightening around the brush in her hand. Her reflection in the mirror looked smaller, hesitant, the way she always did when she wasn’t sure how to feel about someone. “You… you actually think he will?”
“Of course,” I said, brushing a curl out of my face. I let my tone be casual, but my grin gave it away—I believed it. “I mean, think about it. It’s our sixteenth birthday. He can’t ignore that.”
Ainsley chewed her lip and stared at her reflection. Her shoulders slumped a fraction. “Ever since you mentioned the idea, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But…”
I waited a minute for her to keep going, but when she didn’t, I prompted her.
“I don’t know if I even want him to,” she whispered. My heart sank. “I mean… I miss him sometimes, but… how do you think Mum would react if he came? Or Sebastian—oh gosh, Sebastian would probably kill him.”
“Sebastian wouldn’t ruin our birthday like that,” I said.
I’d thought this through. I’d considered everyone’s possible reactions before I’d invited Dad, and even though I knew Sebastian and Lavender wouldn’t be happy, I also knew they wouldn’t make a scene.
And Lavender had prior warning now anyway, so it was one less person for me to worry about.
I reached out and tapped her arm lightly. “Look, even if you’re not sure, he’s coming. I just know it. And I know everyone will be able to be civil for one night. For us.”
And not just civil, if everything went according to plan.
Ainsley chewed her lip and stared at her reflection for a long moment. Then she let out a quiet breath and nodded. “Okay… I’ll try not to worry.”
I grinned and picked up the curler again, finishing the last few spirals. “That’s the spirit. And honestly? Even if he does something weird, we can handle it. We’re unstoppable, remember?”
She smirked, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Unstoppable, huh? I can live with that.”
I glanced at our reflections, side by side. Hair done, dresses waiting, and the bathroom a mess of brushes, irons, and sprays. It was chaotic, but warm and familiar—the kind of calm that only comes right before everything else kicks off.
“Ready to move on to makeup?” I asked, my own grin widening.
“Yeah,” she said, picking up her brush again. She even laughed a little this time, light and easy. “Let’s make ourselves look incredible.”
We dove into putting on our makeup and try as I might, the only time, I couldn’t stop smiling as I imagined the moment that Dad walked in. It was going to be the perfect birthday—I just knew it.