“—How’s the birthday girl doing this morning?” Abram’s lively tone whistles on his way in. Coming from nowhere.
I cough, shoving down my feelings as he passes, opting for coffee instead. Unaware of the strain as he eyes my abandoned gifts on the edge.
“It was an anti-birthday party thing,” I try and explain.
“An anti-birthday?” He muses, shuffling through the bag of junk mail. “But your birthday is today.”
“Exactly,” Finn clarifies. “We can’t celebrate on the birthday. Same for the gifts. We all got Rory the opposite of a gift. An anti-something.”
A chill shoots its way down my spine. He doesn’t say it, but I suddenly get the hidden meaning. Understand what these things are all about.
To anyone else, it sounds like he’s answering Abram, but to me, I can hear the hollowness of each new word. One breaking more than the last.
He doesn’t believe that I’ll stay.
They all got me something that’s easy to leave behind.
“Well, that sounds… interesting.” He looks over his shoulder. “Let me guess, this was your idea, son?”
Finn hops down with too much force. Thanks me for the juice before dumping the half-empty glass in the sink. That pain inside me cutting a little deeper on his exit.
“I think he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” I defend sheepishly.
Abram chortles his agreement, sipping on his coffee.
“You know I understood the idea behind all the other presents—the used gift card clever, by the way,” he jokes, taking a seat at the table. “But I don’t understand the box.”
“Oh, that one’s just a pile of dirt.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, raising his pinkie over another drink, clarifying. “Ah, never mind, probably me imagining things since I haven’t finished the first cup yet.”
His attention goes to his paper and mine goes to the box.
Yesterday I’d given up about halfway through. My fingernails were caked in brown soil by the time Cole attacked. Picking me up and throwing us both into the pool.
Finn cannonballing in right after. The others falling into a similar pattern. The box forgotten again until this morning.
Whoever brought it inside for me must have jostled the contents around because Abram is right. There is something inside. Something I hadn’t spotted before.
The metallic item barely pokes through. The shine from its reflection the giveaway as I yank it out.
Its egg-shaped container pops open easily, revealing what’s inside. My eyes widen before narrowing to slits.
“Un-freakin’-believable,” I stammer under my breath. I should have known better. How many times has Iceman told me he never does easy?
My insides drop. I’m such an idiot.
“What’s that?”
My head jerks up so fast I pinch a nerve, fisting the item. In my reprieve, I’d forgotten I’m not alone.
“You know, if you don’t have anything to do today, I thought it might be nice if you and I—”
“—Gotta go!”
Breezing out of the kitchen. With “the gift” shovedin my pocket, already halfway to his house. Cole Kellet is one crooked son of a bitch with a twisted sense of humor.
twenty