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Today should be a special day. For most adolescents, this birthday in particular is important, signifying the end of childhood. You become legal, you can buy cigarettes and porn, or you can risk your life in the armed services if you so choose. A girl's 18th birthday is something that should be looked forward to and celebrated. Mine is not.
I've been dreading July 21st, 2006 since July 21st, 2005.
Danielle is leaving me today.
Because my mother could never be bothered to look after me or raise me to be a proper lady by herself, she hired Danielle when I was five to be my nanny and tutor. That was around the same time she decided to ruin my life by cutting me off from all civilization, but I digress.
In actuality, Danielle became my only real friend and maternal figure which is even more depressing when I remember that she was on the payroll. Its a small comfort to know that she did in fact genuinely like me, and doesn't want to move across the country, either. But now, since I've become of age, suddenly I don't need her anymore. I'll never understand how yesterday I did, but today the legal system deems that I don't, and I can't help but feel I'm losing the only real family I've ever had.
I don't want to get out of bed today.
I think that maybe if I just shut my eyes long enough, I'll sleep the entire day away and completely miss it, and it will be like it never happened. She won't really have to go. That plan is ruined though when I heard her familiar tap on my bedroom door. I don't respond.
"Cosette," Danielle shouts through the thick wooden door. "It's 12:30 in the afternoon, and I know you're awake in there."
I sigh loudly when she enters the room. So much for pretending to be asleep.
When I turn to face her, her brown eyes mirror the sadness in my own. She doesn't want to go, I continue to tell myself, but my mother hasn't given her much of a choice. She can't afford to stay in New York City without pay, and after being with me so long and not having much recent experience with small children, she's having a hard time finding work.
Some celebrity who can't control their teenage son hired her last week and she'll be leaving for Los Angeles today. On my birthday.
"Come on, you're gonna be late," she tells me before exiting the room quietly.
She knows not to wish me a happy birthday.
I think I'll go home and mull this over
Before I cram it down my throat
At long last it's crashed, it's colossal mass
Has broken up into bits in my moat.
Lift the mattress off the floor
Walk the cramps off
Go meander in the cold
Hail to your dark skin
Hiding the fact you're dead again
Underneath the power lines seeking shade
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason
* * *
I can't believe I'm here again. This is the third time this week, but after seeing her Thursday and Friday night it's like I've got to get my Saturday fix.
Cosette Marciano is probably one of the strangest people I've ever met, but I guess that's why I like her. After we left the club last night she took me up to the rooftop of one of the many buildings her father owns and we just talked. It was weird 'cause I can't remember the last time I've ever done anything like that, ya know? Just, hanging out with someone. Someone who's not paid to be around me or related to me, or been with me since I was fucking fourteen. And, we didn't even talk about anything in particular, just, I don't know. Stuff.
She didn't ask about my music, or anything pertaining directly to me, and I guess I should have gotten the fucking hint. But I was so curious about her. The only things we clearly couldn't talk about were any topics related to her.
I'd ask where she went to school, and she'd just fucking ignore me and shoot off some random ass fact. And she'd say, "There are much more important things to know about than me."
I've never known anyone who knows all this random shit but she's clearly smart which I guess kind of surprised me. A girl who is rich, and pretty, and spends all her damn time in a nightclub automatically brings to mind someone like Paris Hilton, but Cosette is just fucking weird.
I like her though, I do.
I learned the capitol city of Uganda, and the population of Saudi Arabia (I've already forgotten both). That having a widow's peak or brown eyes is a dominant trait, and so is some fucked up disease called Progeria even though it's rare. I guess it makes kids age into old people, and personally, that sounds like some science fiction shit to me but she promised me it was real. She even told me I could look it up if I wanted, but I didn't feel the need. I guess in a small way, I sort of trust her. We have alot more in common than she thinks.
Normally I like a girl to be confident but theres something slightly endearing about her total lack of self-esteem. Maybe I'm so used to girls like Cameron that anything different is kind of like a shock to the system. Cosette's not one of those 'Oh, I'm so ugly, I'm so fat' girls, and she's not overly obvious about the fact that she doesn't think highly of herself. She doesn't walk with her head down or her shoulders slumped, it's just kind of there. Like its always been there and always will be. I wonder if anyone else notices this, or its just me.
I'm not sure how long we spent out on that rooftop last night, just that I had one of the best conversations I've had with anyone in a long time. And I made her laugh, that has to count for something right?
Entering the dimly lit VIP area of the club, I notice Cosette's group of friends in their usual place up in the corner, but she's not there. Its early, so I decide to wait, even though Tiny is getting annoyed with me. My security was none too pleased when I skipped out on them without any warning last night, not too mention the earful I heard from my girlfriend when I returned early in the morning. Cameron's got this voice on her, when she gets mad it's like a jet taking off next to your ear. Of course, she accused me of cheating, and brought up the fact that once in a while she "expects" it, but not when she's actually in town.
My relationship gets more fucked up everytime I think about it, so I don't. I just think about Cosette and how her voice is soft and quiet. I bet it wouldn't even bother me to hear her yelling, if just to get some kind of emotion out of her. No one has any idea why I come here if not to get plastered, but I'd rather no one know about Cosette. On top of the fact that I'm saving myself from a huge headache, I have so little to myself anymore that it'd be nice to have a friend who is just my own.
It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should fold
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And the whole mess of roads we're now on.
* * *
This isn't totally predictable or anything. You would think that on my birthday we would decide to do something different. But, my dear friends, thought that there was no better way to celebrate little old me becoming legal than partying. At my father's club. Even if I'm here at least four nights a week, and I've spent my 15th, 16th, and 17th birthdays here as well. A little tradition, I guess, if you ignore the fact that there'll be no celebrating for me, nothing different than any other night. I really don't think my opinion matters much to anyone, but whatever. It's better than being by myself.
Then I'd have to remember that the only person who even remotely cared at all left this afternoon. Danielle bought me a cupcake from my favorite bakery and I ate in the car on the way to the airport. My driver Steven took us, and I think he'll miss Danielle a little, too. My parents couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye to the woman they've employed for over 13 years. It didn't bother Danielle, I know she didn't like them much, but they could be a little more polite, as they are always asking me to be.
Steven waited for me until Danielle's flight took off and didn't say anything when I cried the whole way back to our penthouse. He did warn me though, when we were a couple of blocks away so I could fix my makeup.
By the time I got home at four, my mother, Cecile was already completely drunk. No better excuse to drink than a birthday, I guess.
I look to the clock in my ornately decorated bedroom to see that its nearly 11:00 and I'm completely positive she's passed out.
"Shit," I hiss under my breath. I'm already late.
Rolling my shoulders to get rid of the tension, I decide it doesn't matter. Sasha and the others won't notice I'm not there unless they're actually getting charged for drinks in my absence. I quickly flip open my cell, it's 11:02. No texts or missed calls. Drinks are definitely on me tonight.
I allow myself one small sigh to relieve the disappointed feeling in my chest. No matter how many times I try to tell myself how lucky I am, it never seems to sink it. Maybe I am thick-headed like my mother. Thats what my dad always says, anyway.
I wish I had told Justin about my birthday. I wonder if he would have cared.
Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.
This is way beyond my remote concern
Of being condescending
The Strange by sofia
Chapter End Notes:
thanks for reading!
song credit, Caring is Creepy, the Shins
song credit, Caring is Creepy, the Shins
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