Aiden

"Moommm! Daaaaad! I'm home." I yell closing the front door behind me.

To my surprise, all the lights are off. I can see the shadow of the kitchen door probably because of the light the moon let in, but there isn't a soul in movement. I slowly approach the dining room to my left where I saw a candle light flicker. I put my heavy school bag on the ground and take the first potent object I see: my mother's favorite vase.

God, help me if I must use this.

The moment I step a foot past the beam in the middle of dining room entrance all the lights turn on. All my family, even those living across the country are there. All of the yelling and chanting and bringing towards me the candle's light I see that was surrounded by fifteen other ones on top of a chocolate less cake. The hugs and kisses I am accepting are quelling my potent being, but at the same time I feel like a man even though I felt like less of a boy.

"Happy birthday son," my father says, patting my back proudly. "I just wish..."

I just wish she was here.

"Yeah, me too." I give him an empathetic smile, took in a deep breath and blew the candles out.

 I made the same wish my dad had made and I knew it was the same we all did whenever we got the chance. I missed her so much. I gave my mom a kiss, but I had to disturb everyone's party vibe.

"I am sorry everyone,” I announce, “but I do need to take care of my hygiene since I am a newly turned sixteen year old. So may I disappear for a tiny 15 minutes to get rid of the sweat and dirt and—”

"Aiden!" my mom interrupts. With a chuckle she continues,"we don't need to know, you are excused." Her chuckle turns to a full on laugh and I laugh as well leaving the room.

It makes me feel so good to be in a happy environment.
-

"I'll see you in the future when we're older and we are full of stories to be told, across my heart and hope to die, tonight." the lyrics go. And then I hum along, unable to contain my love for the song. "I'll see you with your laughter lines!"

I need music to do anything. To wake up, to change, to read, to study, basically all the time. While I am putting on my grey sleeved baseball shirt, my phone rang. Let me rephrase that; my full of shit, egregious, horrible phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello to you too, Mr. Ozim," a feminine voice greeted.

Whoever this person is, he or she isn't in my contacts, knows my family name and sounds mad as hell.

"Uh, yes? Who is this?"

"You've got to be kidding? First you're the only person who accepts to fix my crappy car, then you don't make a big deal out of your birthday, then you try paying for free cupcake and THEN you don't recognize me on the phone! I am officially offended."

I chuckle. "Hi, Layla."

"Hi, Layla, he says," she says in a mocking voice. "Aiden seriously, how can you not tell me it was your birthday?"

I am cleaning my room up while I'm talking to her. I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder, picking up clothes from the ground. "I don't know it never came up, plus I mean you already gave me a free cupcake, I didn't need to bring it up."

"Well you will have two evil consequences."

  Throwing myself on my bed, I say: "Punish me, your highness."

She laughs."First, you will have to come over tomorrow and work on the car."

"Gladly."

"And, you’ll accept the undeniable honor of being my plus one at a party this weekend. AND YOU'RE COMING!" She yells.

I hold the phone further from my ear, cringing at her loud voice. "I will, but I have to get back to my family now, talk to you later?"

"Okay! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AIDEN!" She shouts once more.

I can't help myself from laughing,"Bye, Layla."

-

"So, who were you talking to on the phone, Aiden?" my dad whispers in my ear while I help my mom with the dishes.

The taste of that juicy roasted beef is still in my mouth. I give him a playful smile and make him a sign that clearly means, “let's talk later”. Although, I don't think he understands sign language.

"Oh, Aiden you can tell me."

I can, just not now.

"It was my friend Layla. She wished me a happy birthday."

My dad gives me a smirk, my mom winks and I let my head fall down before any other family members makes eye contact with me, causing embarrassment. My cousins, uncles and aunt spoil me with farwell hugs, kisses and gifts and before I know it, I'm in my bed thinking of the possible ways that could have made this day better.

Only one came to mind.

-
A few days later, I stand in front of the mirror and carefully observe my outfit. A black and grey flannel surmounts my white American Eagle t-shirt. Jeans and sneakers, hopefully this is haunted house party material. I go downstairs satisfied, for once, with how I look. I enter the kitchen.

"Mom, Dad. I'm going to that party Layla invited me to, remember?"

"Right," dad says. "Be home by ten and with a lift. If you don't have one, I'll pick you up. I don't want you in the streets alone."

"Yes, Dad." I say while doing our special handshake. I give my mom a kiss on the cheek and I leave. I text Layla.

To CupcakeGirl: On my way to the podium. Waiting for my hanging.

She answers immediately. By hanging, u mean hangover right???

To CupcakeGirl: If only it could be a less cruel penalty. :(

CupcakeGirl: I am not a generous one. ;) ;) ;)

She cracks me up.

The haunted house is only a seven minute walk from my house, but the sky manages to get dark that fast. Everyone is already screaming, dancing and drinking. It looks like a cabin in the woods just bigger. There is a big table outside with a stereo, food, drinks and beside the table, necessarily, there is a garbage to accommodate trash and the to-come vomit of drunk teenagers. Layla is nowhere in sight, neither are any other people's houses. This haunted house is in a vacant part of the city.

Not scary at all. I shall add that I am not sarcastic at all either.

"What the hell?!" I yell when some deranged drunk person jumps on my back making me almost fall and roll down.

Oh, look, it's Layla.

"You don't know how badly I mentally insulted you." I tell her.

Her hair is in curls. She wears a simple white shirt and pale blue jeans. Her eyes seem to pop out even more. She looks good. The smiling suiting her face only adds to her beauty.

"I am not offended; I'm the one punishing you, remember?" She playfully hits my arm and I hit her back. I start walking towards the party.

"Hey Aiden, wait, this is Ariel," says Layla, grabbing my arm.

"Oh, hi Ariel," I greet, "how can I forget the girl with the red princess hair?"

Ariel laughs, in that moment she really does look like Ariel the mermaid."Nice to meet you, even though I already know you too Aiden."

A grin shows up on my face.

"So," Layla interrupts. "Are we going to this party or what?"

She quickly blushes, bites her lower lip and gives Ariel a bizarre look I am unable to decode. When we approach everyone, Layla winks at Ariel and goes into the crowd leaving Ariel and I together. There is this awkward silence between us while we both poured ourselves some punch.

Is there Vodka?

Once I taste the drink, I put it down immediately, the sour taste burning my throat.

Here's my answer!

"Ariel," I start with a small laugh. "You know you don't have to stay here. Go on and dance."

"Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yeah, I'll go find the guys later."

"Okay, thanks."

She start walking away when she abruptly turns around.

"Oh, hey, Aiden, happy belated birthday." Her smile extends from ear to ear. It suits her well.

"Thanks, Ariel"

A grab a handful of chips and while eating them, I look for my friends. Maybe I can figure out whose party I am at. I see this group of dudes acting all, well simply put—they look high.

"'Sup."

"Hey! It's Aiden." Jay says in a French accent. He's African-American and very tall. He has a very appealing stain on his green shirt. There are traces of badly drank punch on his face.

"Nice shirt," I comment.

"He made the stain himself. He tiene talent." George says. The Latino of the group, he used to be the only one who never smoked besides me and it was ironic, but he got picked on because of it. According to his attitude and red eyes, he succumbed to the pressure.

"George, dude," I grab both shoulders to get his attention. "What is this? You never smoke!"

"You know the girl who stole my heart, Elina," he lets out air and does the typical stoned smile. "She didn't believe I was a real Mexicano if I didn't smoke. I'm doing this for her, bro." He grabs my arms and shakes my body. I wanted to give him a lecture, but anything I need to tell him, he saw in my eyes.

"Alright, but be careful." is all I said while patting his back. I've always been the closest with him in the group. Except him and Jay, there are Daniel, the reader, William, the gamer and Peter, the athlete. I am kind of a mix of everyone. I acknowledge everyone's presence and socialize a bit. I leave them for more chips and to find the crazy girl I came here for.

I spot familiar curls. "Yo, Layla."

She walks away from a group of people to come and see me. "Hey Aiden," she looks like she's in rush. "Uhm, what's up?"

"Nothing, I just came to see you," I raise an eyebrow, "Look if you're busy, I didn't know if—"

"No,no!" she blurts out, "It's fine. I was just, um, I—"

"Hey it's fine," I reassure. "See you around."

She smiles, softly passes her hand on my arm and mouths a thank you.

I smile back and go back to the table. Layla approaches this guy. The stereotypical definition of a douche bag, Calum, is surrounded by a few girls. When Layla says something, the rest of the girls scatter away, with confused faces.

I slowly lose track of the amount of chips I am eating. Layla is playing with her hair. He is making her laugh. Douche bag gives her a flirty smile. I can feel my blood boiling for a bizarre reason.

"Dude, you're devouring the chips. Can you—"says a guy I've seen around somewhere.

"No, I certainly can't.  I am happily eating chips, man. There are still plenty left." He takes a handful and leaves while I am probably at my twentieth gram of these things. Shit-face takes Layla's hand and drags her outside.

For some reason, seeing Layla with a guy like him infuriates me. I don't get why, but I absolutely hated it. I just had to do something other than sitting here at a party she invited me to, waiting for her to leave what is perceived as the hot part of guys. To me, he looks like shit. He is what he looks like as well. I hear him bragging to his friends about how he broke a different girl's heart or got what he wanted from them.

Then again, interfering would be not minding my own business.

I put down the bowl of chips and dig my hand in the popcorn.

-

Written by Sarah, edited by Yas