We weren’t normally so touchy-feely with each other, so his first reaction was, “What the...?” But then, it came to him as he hugged me back. “Oh, hey, happy birthday.”
I pulled back to give him a kiss on the cheek. I had to stand on my tiptoes in order to reach his face. When did he get so much taller than me?
I gave him a big smile and a punch in the arm. “Thanks, Bruce. I’m glad you remembered.”
That night, Dad let me borrow the car so I could drive myself to work. It was so liberating, to finally be behind the wheel on my own. No Dad, no driving instructor! I immediately reprogrammed all of my father’s radio stations, but then set them all back to his original choices, thinking that if I ever wanted to borrow the car again, I’d better not push my luck.
I parked in the employee lot and went in the rear entrance to Totally Videos, where Martin was in the storeroom ready to greet me.
“So?” he asked.
I couldn’t contain my smile. “Yeah. I passed.”
He offered a pat on the back and, “Well, congratulations. And happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Martin.”
“Now help me unpack these boxes.”
And at that, my birthday party was over.
I spent a good hour unpacking the new shipment of movies, re-packaging them from their original video covers into barcoded clear cases, then stuffing bricks of Styrofoam into a few of the empty covers before shrink-wrapping them. I knew that in a few months, I’d be expected to reverse this process, returning the videos back into their original covers for sale in our “Previously Viewed” bin. It was a vicious cycle.
It wasn’t until about seven o’clock or so when Trip showed up to surprise me. It was a pretty slow night and I had just been daydreaming about him from behind my post at the front register. I was envisioning a Sixteen Candles-type scenario; Trip and me sitting on his dining room table, sharing our first kiss over my birthday cake. And suddenly, poof! there he was, right there in the flesh. Okay, maybe I spent a lot of my time thinking about him, so it’s not like he just happened to show up at some fluky moment or something, but I still like to think that I psychically willed him to manifest at that exact instant.
I watched him stroll in wearing black jeans, a grey jacket and a shit-eating grin. “Happy birthday!”
I must have been smiling ear to ear when I told him, “I knew you’d come.”
He came over and leaned his forearms against the counter I was standing behind. “So... Do I even need to ask?”
I dug underneath the shelf into my purse, coming up with my father’s keys and jangling them in front of his eyes in answer.
“Awesome! You passed! I knew you would.”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face or the satisfaction from my voice when I replied, “Thanks. Even aced parallel parking.”
“Thatta girl.”
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a twin-pack of Twinkies. He tossed them on the counter saying, “I baked you a cake.”
It was no Jake Ryan move, but it was damn near close enough for me. I exaggerated my reaction when I said, “Oh, Trip! You shouldn’t have.”
He grinned. “Oh, don’t pretend like Twinkies aren’t your favorite. I went to a lot of trouble to get those for you.”
I said, “Oh, I’ll bet,” but he was right. I freakin’ loved Twinkies. I opened the cellophane wrapper and handed him one. “My father always taught me it was bad luck to twink alone.”
“Oh, that was bad.”
I giggled, clinked my cake to his and took a bite. Heaven.
“So, you had nothing better to do with your evening than come in here on your night off and fatten up an old lady?” That was only funny because I was officially the youngest member of our entire class.
He polished off the last of his Twinkie in his second bite and said sheepishly, “I just thought it would suck that you had to work on your birthday. Does it?”
I don’t know how I managed to get the words out, but I leaned forward and replied, “Well, it did... until now.”
He gave me a smirk and drummed the counter before saying, “Hey, look. I gotta go, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.”
He stood there for an extra second, just locked onto my eyes, and before I could ask him what was up, I watched as he leaned across the counter toward me. I was a statue as his hand slipped around my neck, his rough fingers at my nape, his knuckles brushing under my hair. As if that weren’t thrilling enough, the next thing I saw was his face coming closer to mine before his lips offered a sweet, slow kiss on my cheek. Just that small contact was like a lightning bolt through my body, a splash of ice water in my veins. I couldn’t breathe very well at that second, but I managed to catch the warm scent of him, all sugary and soapy and sending shivers down my skin.
He pulled back, looking almost as stunned as I felt, and I knew I wasn’t imagining things when I heard him actually stammer the slightest bit as he said, “H-happy birthday, Layla”.
He regained his composure quickly enough, because in the blink of an eye, his wide grin returned as he offered, “See you tomorrow.”
I stared as he walked out the door, hating to see him go but loving the view as I watched him walk away.
The next night, Trip and I punched out at Totally Videos around ten and he offered to drive me home. I was exhausted- Fridays were a big night for movie rentals- and all I wanted to do was crash for the next twelve hours. Football season was well under way and I was looking forward to watching our Lions kick a little Butler Bulldog ass the following afternoon.
On the way out to the parking lot, I took a shot and asked, “Hey, can I drive?” but Trip just looked at me like I was nuts and replied, “Nobody drives Beverly but me.”
So, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Trip’s Bronco, flipping through the radio stations, almost missing the fact that he’d turned in the opposite direction from my street.
I looked up from the stereo controls and asked, “Umm, what’s going on?”
Trip just pasted a smile on his face and said, “Don’t worry about it. Just shut up and let me drive.”
Once he turned down Trestle Ave, I knew exactly where we were headed.
The Barrens was an old, abandoned field in an area of town known as The Mud Hole. The lot was formed in a large C shape from a bend in the river, abutted by the nearby railroad tracks. Supposedly, there was once an actual house on that godforsaken property, but it had long since been torn to the ground. All that remained was a concrete slab, fractured and uneven, weeds growing through the cracks and covered in four decades’ worth of graffiti. Everyone in Norman affectionately referred to the spot as “The Patio”, and it was the most popular destination at The Barrens for hanging out. For any underage kids who dared to cross the tracks, it was as good a place as any to sneak some beers or make out with their not-so-significant others.
Trip parked his truck amidst the trees behind the rusted-out cargo container, where I could see Coop’s Audi and Lisa’s LeBaron. I shot a look at Trip, who was grinning at me shamelessly before getting out. I walked around to the other side of the hold to The Patio, where Lisa, Pickford, Cooper, Rymer and Sargento were sitting in lawn chairs arranged in a circle. It was too early in autumn to need a fire, but they had one going anyway. It was just one of those things that you did at The Barrens.
Lisa spied me first, her eyes lighting up as she yelled, “Hey! Happy birthday!”
Everyone else turned toward Trip and me then, offering their own hellos and birthday greetings. Lisa got off her chair and ran over, welcoming me with a big hug before whispering in my ear, “I came here with Pickford!” She handed me a pink plastic bowler hat covered in glitter and looped a black feather boa around my neck. My birthday suit, apparently.
For a half-baked surprise party, my friends didn’t do such a bad job. They had a decent fire going, which we appreciated more for the light and to keep the bugs away than for any actual heat we’d hoped to garner. Someone brought a boombox, there were a couple cases of beer in actual cans and Lisa had even baked some peanut butter brownies. She’d put a few candles in the cake pan and lit them, but I wasn’t delusional enough to wait for anyone to start singing before blowing them out.
Amidst the swirling smoke, Trip asked, “Whadja wish for?”
And obviously, I couldn’t tell him!
So I said, “Won’t come true if I tell, right?” which was the expected response anyway, so no one pressed me on it.
I watched as Rymer shotgunned his Budweiser and I asked, “Hey, don’t you guys have a game tomorrow?”
Rymer tossed the empty can over his shoulder before responding. “Yep. But Coach won’t allow us to get laid during football season. Drinking’s all we got.”
I looked wide-eyed at Cooper and Sargento for confirmation. They were both nodding their heads, Coop saying, “It’s true.”
“Get out of here!” I said, appalled. “How can he- why would you even agree to that?”
Before Coop could even answer me, Pick piped in with, “That’s why I play basketball!” and Trip added, “And that’s why I play hockey!” the two of them high-fiving above my head and laughing hysterically.