Yes, sticking to the TTh update schedule. Are you proud of me now?
Chapter 7: Dorian
I don’t think anyone should be allowed to feel lonely on their birthday. Correction: It is a crime to feel lonely on your birthday.
Today felt off. Uncentered. And it is scared me.
When we left the café yesterday, Dmitri and I exchanged numbers and social media so that we could stay in touch more often. The rest of the school day was uneventful – peaceful even. That night, we spent most of the evening on Skype, sending each other cat videos and talking about random things.
I realized that even if we had a lot of things that we don’t really agree about, we still somehow clicked. Dmitri wasn’t a sympathetic guy, he was empathetic and was quite civil when we started debating about current affairs and politics. Guess people with differences can still get along.
I went to bed with a smile on my face hoping that things would be as great as the day before.
Well, not really.
The morning of my birthday, I woke up to my parents having a row. I don’t know what they were fighting about but it scared me since they rarely fight.
The morning of my birthday, I missed the bus. It was my first time.
The morning of my birthday, I was late for gym. Guess who was the target for dodgeball?
The morning of my birthday, my math teacher gave us a pop quiz on limits. My mind went blank.
By the time lunch rolled about I was ready to just lock myself into a cubicle and cry. But then again, my life isn’t a Mean Girls movie nor was eating lunch in a public restroom the most hygienic thing to do. Also boys don’t cry, or so they say.
Still no one, remembered.
By the time my afternoon class rolled about, things was starting to get better. My essay on social science got top marks. But still no one remembered.
Not even a text.
Just as I had slammed the door of my locker I heard someone shuffle beside me. It was Dmitri. It was then I realized I haven’t seen a peep of him the whole day. Some friend I am.
“I just heard it was your birthday.” Dmitri said, his cheeks flushing. “Okay, maybe not heard but Facebook did notify just now.”
“Well, it’s okay.” I shrugged, a bit peeved that someone would remember my birthday because Facebook remembered. “Not that it matters.”
“Of course it matters! It’s your birthday!”
Dmitri looked flustered. Something tells me that there was more to the blush than just embarrassment. “At least let me give you my gift.”
It was then I noticed at he was holding a paper bag by his side. Instincts tell me it was cake. Typical. But I wanted to shoot down those thoughts when he finally pulled out the cake from the bag. It was small and circular shaped but it screamed Dmitri.
It wasn’t a commercial cake. It was total Dmitri-made cake.
It made my heart flutter in my chest.
“Sorry, I didn’t contact you the whole day.” Dmitri said, his tone sheepish. “Once I get in my zone, everything else shuts off and I sort of lose track of time.”
Just like me when I read, I wanted to scream but held myself back. Can’t this guy get anymore relatable?
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Of course! It’s a cake! Who doesn’t like cake anyway?”
I then saw an emotion that I never expected to see from him: relief. Dmitri was relieved I liked his cake. Was he worried that I was going to reject it?
I could see the imaginary ice wall between us caving away, making me see this guy in a new angle.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he smiled at me, making my stomach flip-flop. “Happy Birthday, Dorian.”
It is a crime to feel lonely on your birthday but it gets better when you have someone. Then again, he doesn’t have to know that.