Page 9 of Every Thought Taken

Mom stops her candle placement and looks up. “What was that, Anderson?”

With a shake of my head, I say, “Looks nice.”

A smile brightens her face as she nods. “Yes, it does.”

Yeah… nice for Helena.

Minutes later, everyone is beckoned to the table. Helena and I are told to stand opposite our mothers while everyone sings, “Happy Birthday.” Each candle is lit and the unharmonious song starts.

My eyes drop to my feet for two breaths before an arm hooks with mine. I shift my stare to the arm then up to Helena, who smiles and leans closer.

“Is it just me or our mothers losing it?” she whisper-asks.

At this, I smile. I like that she knows how to make me smile. “Definitely,” I whisper back.

With her mouth close to my ear, she says, “When they finish singing, let’s switch sides. You blow out my candles and I’ll blow out yours.” She leans back, looks me in the eyes, and raises her brows in question.

Mom will hate the idea. Will probably say I ruined the party or made her look bad in front of the other parents.

I nod. “Yes,” I mouth.

As the last line of the song ends, she unhooks her arm from mine and gives me a fresh smile. With a nod, we switch positions and blow out candles. Everyone cheers and whoops. But when I stand up straight, I spot the slight grimace on Mom’s face.

I don’t care, I scream in my head.It’s Helena’s and my birthday, and we’ll do whatever we want.

The cake is cut into squares and slapped onto plates with a scoop of Neapolitan ice cream. The backyard quiets as everyone takes a seat and devours the sugary treats. I go back to my chair at the farthest point in the yard, away from everyone. Shade from the tall evergreens on the other side of the fence blocks the sun and hides me from some partygoers.

After I scrape all the icing off my cake, I stab a corner of the vanilla-chocolate marble cake and shove it in my mouth. Dry and too sweet, but made by Mom’s friend.“Gina makes the best cakes in Washington.”I shove the square aside and decide to eat only ice cream.

Halfway through the ice cream, Helena parks a chair beside mine and sits. Not far behind her, my sister and Magdalena walk our way with chairs and loaded plates.

“This cake is gross,” Helena states just above a whisper. Her eyes shift to my plate. “Guess that’s why you’re not eating it too.”

With a nod, I say, “Yep. Maybe next year, if our parents do this again, we let your mom be in charge of cake.”

She leans into me and bumps my arms with hers. “Agreed. Bad enough we have to smile as we eat it. No one else should be forced to eat it too.”

Ales and Magdalena set down their chairs then sit. The four of us eat ice cream and toss napkins over the unfinished cake on our plates. Ales sparks a conversation about some guy at her school who smiles at her during lunch every day. I aim my eyes to the clouds between the branches and zone out.

While Ales and Magdalena chat, Helena turns her chair more in my direction. “How’s school?”

One question and the ice cream in my stomach sours. With a slight turn of my head, I widen my eyes at her and silently say,“I’m not talking about that with other people around.”

She closes her eyes for two breaths then softens her gaze in apology. “Did you get Mr. Talbot or Ms. Higgins?”

“Talbot,” I mutter.

Her shoulders sag and she smiles. A small thank you from her for me not being mad. “We had him too. Wait until he starts science.” She smiles bigger. “He’s such a science nerd.” The way she says it doesn’t come across as mean. More like she is amazed someone loves science so much.

“I’ll let you know when he does.”

“Present time,” Mrs. Williams hollers, her balled fists shaking with excitement in front of her chest.

I groan and rise from the chair. “Not like I got gifts,” I mumble.

We leave our chairs and return to the patio. We toss our plates in the trash and take a seat at the table next to each other. Helena has a mountainous stack of gifts. Boxes in varying sizes, wrapped in soft, colored paper and ribbon. As for me, I have five. The wrapping paper is lackluster in comparison to Helena’s gifts and I suspect they are all from my parents, Helena’s parents, Magdalena’s parents, and my sister.

Not a single one of my classmates brought me anything. Not even a card. Color me not surprised.