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BirthdayGirl3456
“So, how does it feel to be eighteen?” Breonna wiggled her brows as she tossed a packet of popcorn in the microwave.
I sipped on my cream soda, which was brutally flat at this point. I’ve been waiting forever to turn eighteen, mainly for two reasons: One, so I could work full-time hours all summer and not catch shit about it from my dad, and two, no more curfews.
“Hello? Earth to Pearl?” she joked before turning her attention back to the beeping microwave.
Before pouring it down the sink, I took another sip. “It’s great. I’m officially an adult with no money and a crappy non working car.”
Breonna did a little dance as she stood near the microwave. “Welcome to the good life, girlie.”
“You can buy porn now!” Amber shouted from the living room.
Breonna tossed the steaming bag onto the counter and ripped it open. The rich scents of melted butter made my stomach rumble, and I plucked a hot kernel from the bowl and into my mouth.
“Porn? You don’t need to be eighteen to buy porn, girl. It's free on the internet.”
I leaned on the counter and sliced my eyes between them as they bickered about porn and other crazy things that newly eighteen-year-olds could purchase. Dipping my hand back into the bucket of popcorn, my phone buzzed, and I tugged it from my back pocket.Dad.
“Hey, dad.” I plugged one finger into my ear and snuck around the corner, out of earshot of Breonna and Amber's conversation.
“Hey, sweety. How was the party?”
“Okay, everyone was there, well, almost everyone…” I let my words trail off and leaned against the wall. A beat of silence passed before he let out a breath and cleared his throat.
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry. I tried, but you know I’m trying to get a contract for us.”
I tapped the toe of my tennis shoe onto the marble flooring and bit the inside of my cheek. I hated seeing him defeated because he did everything in his power to make sure I had it all. The fact that he hasn’t had a construction contract in over two years started to take a toll on him and his savings. With the credit cards maxed out, and my college savings depleted to almost nothing, it's like we existed in a fragile bubble that could pop at any time.
“Dad?” I asked, forcing myself to ignore the clanking of the ice cubes in his glass of liquor.
“Yeah, sweet pea? We’re going to be fine. I promise you that. Don’t worry about it.”
It was always easy for him to brush off our problems and make it seem like the world wasn’t burning in front of our eyes when it really was. He tried to hide our situation for the longest time, but when you come home to find numerous envelopes with big red stickers on them, it’s pretty hard to turn a blind eye to that.
“But are we? Breonna’s mom is super nice, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind giving you a small loan or—”
“Pearl, sweetheart, let me handle it. Please,” he interjected.
I rested my head on the wall and shifted. My dad had an ego bigger than the city of Stonebridge and hated handouts more than anything. Proud was an understatement when it came to him. I listened to the ice clatter in his glass as he took another sip. I didn't need to see him to know the state he was in. Disheveled hair, heavy eyes, and a stoic look etched into his features were pretty spot on. With more concern on the tip of my tongue, my sentence was interrupted by Breonna calling me from the other room.
“Go, sweetheart, enjoy your night,” he said as he set his glass down.
I leaned off the wall and started back toward the living room. “Okay, but promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”
The sound of his low chuckle warmed my heart, bringing back memories of when I used to hear it more often, accompanied by his wide smile and warm eyes.
“Sure. Love you, sweet pea.”
The line clicked over, and I shoved my phone back into the jeans of my shorts. Breonna and Amber were sitting on the large couch with a scary movie frozen on the screen. Their eyes were filled with mischief as they followed my movements, and I stopped in my tracks.
“What?” I folded my arms across my chest, trying to come off serious.
Breonna stood with a popcorn bowl in hand and grabbed my wrist. “Are you done wallowing in sorrow with your daddy?”
I rolled my eyes and tilted my head to the side. “For now, why?”
She didn’t reply before pulling me down the long hallway toward her bedroom. Amber followed behind in excitement, and a wave of nervousness crept over me. Breonna was on the extreme end of the spectrum between the three of us, with Amber being the good Christian girl, as I fell somewhere in the middle. She busted open the door to her room, and Amber closed it behind her. Breonna's middle name was Mischievous, and it was written all over her face as she patted the deep purple carpet, motioning me to sit.
