“Doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying,” I toss over my shoulder on my way out.
“Lana,” she calls, just as I’m almost out of the door and I halt in my tracks to listen. “I know why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday this year. Maybe it’s time to share those reasons with boys?”
I stay there for a second, pondering if I’m ready to open up that can of worms. Maybe she’s right? Maybe they’ll make the day more lowkey compared to previous birthday’s if I tell them.
“I’ll think about it,” I relent and head up the stairs to my room.
My last memory with my birth family is my mom’s 21st birthday. I was only a toddler so the faded images of a birthday cake, her smile, and group hugs might be imaginary, but they’re still there all the same. Maybe next year, I’ll celebrate my 22nd birthday. But this year, I don’t want to celebrate reaching an age my mother only got to briefly touch before her death.
Shaking the thought out of my head, I mull back over Beth’s recent obsession with the ‘Goddess.’ For the past few months, she’s been going to a new temple that believes in the Greek Gods and Goddesses. Her chosen temple worships Gaia, the Goddess of Earth, praying for her to stop the natural disasters plaguing the world.
Supposedly while she was shopping at a nearby farmers market, she felt a pull on her soul that drew her to the temple. She always speaks so highly of their outdoor services, describing the weight lifting off her every time she attends, so much so, that I’ve been considering going with her to see what it’s all about. I’ve never felt drawn to an ideology before but the guys and I have an affinity for nature so who knows? Maybe Gaia will be the right fit for us.
After changing into my white tank top and light blue sleep shorts in my room, I make my way back down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Damn beer, making my mouth feel like the Sahara Desert. I would have much preferred tequila tonight, my drink of choice, but they cut me off after last time. Supposedly, I wouldn’t stop singing Queen’s We Are The Champions for two hours so they hid my stash of the liquid gold.
We’ll be reunited soon, my love.
As I grab a cup from the cupboard and fill it from the fridge dispenser, a chorus of laughter from upstairs interrupts my reminiscing about the good ol’ days with my good friend, tequila.
Odd. Everyone’s normally winding down at this time.
I down my water in a single breath and sneak upstairs on my tiptoes, a mystery theme music playing in my head as I ascend. I pop my head into the twins’ room where all the guys are gathered, talking quietly amongst themselves.
That’s not suspicious at all.
I narrow my eyes, “Care to share what’s so funny, dudes?”
Leo and Luke jump into the air at the sound of my voice and Zedd’s head snaps to me. Ash and Hale are the only ones who keep their composure with their arms crossed over their wide chests.
My eyes narrow further. Clearly, they were expecting me to be in bed already. I’m not sure why they were laughing so loud then when they’re normally very courteous.
It must have been really funny. Now I have to know.
Fully entering the doorway and jutting my hip out, I cross my arms across my chest in defiance, and wait for someone to fill me in. The phantom sound of crickets chirping plays in my brain as I stare them down, tapping my foot on the ground impatiently. The twins look at some random part of the room, scratching their heads as the rest of the guys avoid my gaze.
Huh. It’s like that then.
Assholes.
I purse my lips. Ignoring the pang of hurt in my chest at being left out, I turn to leave, yelling over my shoulder. “Fine! Exclude the chick. Keep talking about boobs, vaginas and porn or whatever.”
Soft curses sound behind me but I don’t pay them any mind. They want to leave me out? Fine. They can keep their dick cards and wave them high in the air. I’ll be here with my vagina, all sad and lonely.
I hurry down the hall and close my bedroom door behind me. Holding in my screams of frustration as I fall face first onto my bed, my body bouncing on the plush mattress as I wallow. What a fucking night.
At least I successfully evaded the birthday question. A silver lining, I suppose.
I roll over and turn my bedside light off, letting the room fall into darkness, blanking my mind in an attempt to make way for sleep. Maybe that will make the confusion from this entire day fade away.
Tomorrow will be better.
I’ll make sure of it.
I just need to get my shit together before then, make sure my brain’s in prime condition to compartmentalize. That’s doable, right?
Laughing at the thought, I realize how unlikely that actually is. I’m a mess, who am I kidding?
As I lament over the loss of my sanity, the floorboards outside my door creak and my ears perk up. The boys haven’t snuck into my room for a snuggle since we were little and the nightmares stopped for all of us. Beth’s asleep, so who’s out there?
A memory itches at the back of my mind as my heart picks up pace.
What if it isn’t one of the boys or Beth? What if—
A heavy hand falls on the doorknob, twists, turns, and my hands fist the pillow beneath me.
It’s been fifteen years. He can’t just waltz into my room again.
Can he?
I’m not a baby and I’m not helpless anymore, so why is the stench of alcohol overwhelming my senses? Pressure at my back, the phantom touch of heavy, meaty hands, one between my legs, one on my undeveloped chest, restraining me—
No, no, no. This isn’t happening. It’s not him.
The smell of peppermint hits me and my heart soars with relief so suddenly, I almost think it stopped beating. Ash. It’s Ash.
Immediately, I lock the memory of Rafael and Tina, my first foster ‘family,’ back into the recess of my brain. The constant screaming, the fighting, the assault I experienced for years—I've moved past all of that now. Back then, during an annual checkup with the foster system on my sixth birthday, I told them Rafael pet me like a dog. It was the best way I could describe it to them at the time, but I had to tell them. I hadn't known what was happening at the time, but I knew it was wrong.
It took a year of counselling with someone from the Department of Children and Family before I began to grasp what Rafael had done and even after that, I needed Beth, the caring, new office assistant who had showered me with love and attention before taking me home. Within a year of that, all of the boys were here as well and I healed a little more having them to grow up with.
She said she felt drawn to us, like we were her opportunity to give all the love she’d locked inside her after her family died in a flash flood two years before she met us.
Escaping that foster home was the first time I took control of my life.
I won’t let them sneak back in and take it back. I won’t let anyone take that from me.
The lingering, unwelcome caresses of the flashback make me less-than-happy about his sudden appearance when I’m already upset with the boys. I steel myself as I sneer up at him. “What do you want, Ash?”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Just wanna talk.”
“Oh, you can talk now but you couldn’t earlier when I asked you all a simple question? Funny, that.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to the bed—not even a little intimidated by my bad mood—and gives me a nudge. “Shut up and move over.”