Mailboy

“Ay shorty, it’s your birthday, we gonna party like it’s your birthday.” -50 cent 

(shout out to me, because I turn 15 on Sunday aka the 24th)

beth is to the side

-

Zoey Willow Hunter

        THIS morning, at the mail house, something felt wrong. There was a nagging in my chest that made me question if I had forgotten something at home. Everything was with me; my cracked phone, my earphones, the house keys and most importantly; an extra hairband in case my hair felt like a monster sticking to my skin.

I was sitting on the porch, earphones on and head bobbing to the music. I tried not to lip-sync to the music too much, in hopes of avoiding looking like a complete lunatic.   

“Hunter,” acknowledged Nico, taking one of my earphones out.  

I made an exaggerated grimace, tucking in a loose strand of my hair. Instead of tying it up in a ponytail as I always did, I had it in a French braid. Of course, the darned thing took me more than half an hour to perfect, because clearly there always had to be a strand of hair that never looked right in the braid.

“One simply does not interrupt my listening to music,” I said, shaking my head at him.

No answer came to me. This caught me off guard.

Nico B. Forrest not having an answer to me? What a shocking morning this is!

I eyed him cautiously. “Are you okay?” I said, putting a hand on his head, to test if a fever was present or something.

“I’m fine,” he said, not looking at me, “let’s get going already, yeah?”

“Nico, I’ve lied and said I’m fine enough to know that you’re lying,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

Something was seriously wrong with him.

“We’re going to be late,” he protested instead, putting the mail bag on.

I rapidly snatched the bag from him and threw it on the ground. Shrugging, I gave him a look that meant that if he didn’t tell me what was going on; I would probably break his nose again. Well, maybe not.

He picked up the bag, glaring at me, “Fuck off. I’ll go deliver the mail by myself.”

What just happened?

Two nights ago we were acting like we were friends, now he was cussing me off? Either Nico was bipolar or he just had a serious problem.

“Nicolas Forrest, don’t be an asshole. I will not allow you to be pissed off or sad for some reason and let it out on me,” I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt, “Now, talk.”

Nico’s eyes scanned mine and he pursed his lips. Taking my hands off him, he leaned against the porch. He heaved a sigh, scratching his head. This caused his hair to look even messier than it did. He looked like he had when he came to my island; tired and deprived of sleep.

“Today is…my birthday,” he announced.

I frowned, “then what the fuck are you acting up about? Birthdays are supposed to be happy occasions.”

“Happy birthday!” I added.

He took a deep breath as if to speak and then didn’t. He repeated his actions again, until my level of patience was reaching its peak. Nico, for the first time ever, looked miserable.

It scared the shit out of me.

Just because I was his friend and I cared about him. I mean, sure, I’d questioned my friendship with him more than once. I had decided he was worth it, he was worth being friends with. He was a freaking amazing person, whether it showed off at first impression or not.

“It’s—nevermind.”

“Nico, please.”

Now, I personally assumed it was because of the fact that I called him Nico that he started speaking. “It’s my first birthday without her,” he mumbled, “without my mum.”

Oh.

The first thought that came to mind was: aren’t you insensitive, Zoey?

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically.

He put his head in his hands for a long moment. Nico looked up at me and nodded, walking to the backpack again. I grabbed his hand and made him look at me. He glanced at my hand in his and looked at me again.

“What?” he said.

I wrapped my arms around him and put my head on his chest. He felt stiff and he didn’t try to hug me back, which frustrated me a lot. I squeezed onto him and that seemed to be enough.

Reluctantly, I felt his arms close around my waist. He put my head on my shoulder and I felt him calm down even more. I was holding him and I knew he was far from okay. This was payback for the time I was on the verge of tears and he hugged me.

Just when I was about to let go, he muttered: “thank you for being you.”

“Anytime,” I answered.

He pulled away and I could see the traces of tears on his cheeks. He noticed me looking and wiped his cheeks hastily, turning away.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Men don’t fucking cry.”

Handing him a tissue, I said: “Humans cry, it’s normal. Just because you have testicles doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to cry.”

 He smiled at this and pointed at the mailbag. “Can we go now?”

“No. Today’s your birthday.”

“So?”

“So, we shall celebrate. The mail can wait.”

He let out a laugh, “since when do you deliver mail late?”

Since I have better things to do than deliver mail when I’m with you, I thought.

Wait, what the fuck?

I did not think that.

Yes you did, admit it. You like spending time with him.

“Zorro? Why do you look high and confused?”

“Because—uh I was thinking about something.”

“Might I ask,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “what were you thinking about?”

I couldn’t just say you. “Those poor people who won’t be receiving their mail on time.”

He threw his head back and laughed. My heart warmed at the sight because he reminded me of Julia when she laughed. There was still a piece of childhood in him and it shined whenever he laughed for real. Nico was…a guy with a good heart.

“So,” I started, putting my knees on a chair and placing my arm on his shoulder, because he was too tall for me to put my arm around his shoulder with my regular height, “what did you usually do on your birthday?”

“Nothing,” he answered immediately.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Everyone has a birthday tradition.”

“Had,” he corrected, “I guess I had one. She would wake me up with a birthday cake in the face.”

He got this light in his eyes that gave my heart another pang. “When I was five, Dad told me to surprise her on her birthday by giving her a birthday cake in bed. Instead, she hit her head in it. Ever since, it’s been our tradition; she wakes me up on my birthday with a cake in the face. Last year, when I turned 17 and she was in the hospital, I gave her a birthday cake and she hit me with it.”

“Let’s go, then,” I said, walking to my bike.

Puzzled, he eyed me with a strange look. “Where?”

“Where else? The diner, so we can get you a birthday cake. And I’ll slam it in your face.”

Was it possible to fall in love only with someone’s smile?

-

A mouthwatering chocolate cake sat on the counter in front of me, decorated professionally by Nico and I. His name was spread on the top in vanilla icing. There were jelly beans, M&Ms and all types of sprinkles on it. My heart broke at the thought of wasting it on Nico’s face.

“It’s too pretty to go on your face,” I whined still admiring the cake.

Nico shook his head and took a candle, placing it in the middle. Uncle Bob lit it up and we stared as the fire of the candle captivated Nico’s eyes.

“Happy birthday to you,” I started to sing. The other people in the diner joined us’ Uncle Bob’s voice being the loudest. Nico blushed a bit and did a little bow when the song was over.

 He closed his eyes and blew the candle out, a determined expression on his handsome features.

 “What did you wish for?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, or else my wish won’t happen,” he answered, a twinkle of joy in his eyes. I took out the candle and held the cake in one hand.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

With every ounce of force I had, I slammed the cake into his face. It splattered on his clothes and on mine. There was a moment of silence; all eyes on Nico and I. He opened his eyes and grinned, looking the happiest I’d seen ever since I met him.

I reached over and wiped cake from his cheek with a spoon, eating it. God, the taste of chocolate made me feel like I died and went to heaven. The cake melted in my mouth, making me get all tingly.

Let’s hope I don’t get a sugar rush.

Uncle Bob took out an identical cake and cut it into small pieces, for every person in the room. Nico cleaned his face with a towel, not bothering to properly get the cake out from his hair. His giddy face when people wished him a happy birthday was priceless; like if I was offered a million dollars to not see him this happy, I would decline.

After a while, the diner started to empty up because everyone had to get to their daily jobs or chores or whatever they needed to do. Nico glanced at me and ushered his head to outside.

We thanked Uncle Bob and got out. I got on my bike and he did the same. We biked in utter, complete quiet. I could get used to being this comfortable with someone. The words he or I needed to say hung in the air, as if invisible threads held them.

This was summer was all about; making memories. So far, the memories I made with Nico were far more valuable to me than any others. Kissing Oliver at the end of school seemed like a faraway fairy tale, one that reached an okay ending a long time ago. Nico had a way of making every special memory last in my brain and release happy endorphins.

“Thank you,” he said once we reached the mail house.

I smiled, “you’re welcome. Are you going to do anything special today?”

“Probably go out,” he said, shrugging.

His phone rung in a strange tune that seemed vaguely familiar. He fumbled for it and stared at the screen with a paralyzed expression. This sparked worry in me.

“What is it?” I went by his side.

“Beth,” he answered in a hushed voice, “she’s Skype video calling me.”

Just when I thought he was going to press the decline button, a gorgeous face appeared on his phone. He ran a quick hand through his hair and licked his lips. It seemed like…he was trying to look good for her. I didn’t tell him about the cake in his hair.

“Nico!” exclaimed the girl, smiling brightly. Her room’s light was dim, but there were traces of sun behind her. Her hair was black and incredibly curly. I couldn’t see her eye color, but it was probably brown. She had a button nose and dark skin, one that reminded me of James. Her smile was blinding.

“Beth,” he said, holding the camera a bit further from him.

She waved, “how are you?”

“Great, how’s my best friend in bed?” he retorted, his eyes appearing darker.

Oh goody, Nico seems to have recovered from her cheating on him!

Not.

Beth shifted uncomfortably and gulped. “Can we not do this?”

“You’re the one who called,” he said.

“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Wish received.”

His tone was enough to dry a lake from its water.

She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, “are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because of your mom.”

His jaw hardened, “why would you care, Elizabeth?”

“Er—because I guess I just care about you.”

“If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have fucked my best friend. If you cared about me, you would have told me you’d been cheating on me for two months of our damned relationship. If you cared about me, Elizabeth, you wouldn’t have fucked him while my mum was having her last days in the hospital.”

She stiffened visibly. “You clearly still hate me.”

“It’s not hate, it’s revulsion. You disgust me.”

“Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry.”

Nico opened his mouth to answer, but I held up a hand to him. I stood on a piece of wood to actually appear in the picture. “Hi, Beth. Zoey here. I’d appreciate it if you left Nico to celebrate his birthday and not bother him.”

“And who are you?” She answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t I just say that I’m Zoey? Z. O. E. Y.”

My legs felt unstable on the piece of wood and I was losing my balance. Luckily, Nico noticed and stabilized me with his hand. His hand stayed on my waist.

Beth scowled. “I meant, Zoey,” she said my name as if it left a horrid taste in her mouth, “who are you to Nico?”

“Friend.”

“Girlfriend.”

I looked at Nico with alarm. He patted my back and I swore I could feel my legs get wobbly.

“I mean,” I said, “girlfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I replied, more confidently this time.

“Goodbye, Beth,” said Nico, closing the call. I got off the piece of wood, and wiped my palms on my back pockets.

Nico was staring at me, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m flattered that you chose me,” I said in a squeaky voice, “to be your pretend girlfriend. Like, oh my gosh.”

He smiled. “I mean thank you for everything. For the cake; for being my—”

“Friend?” I supplied.

“Yeah, that. You made this day start well.”

“That’s what I’m here for!” I exclaimed. Walking to the inside of the mail house, I added: “Let me get the segway for you today. It’s a special day.”

“You have a segway?” he cried out.

“Yeah, it’s Walters, but you can use it for today ‘cause it’s freaking awesome.”

I dragged the segway out of the dusty living room and as I saw Nico outside, I couldn’t help but smile. He was looking straight ahead, with a pensive but content look.

Taking small steps towards him, I got on the tip of my toes and reached over to give him a kiss on the cheek.  I had my eyes shut.

This was when everything got messed up. What I hadn’t expected was that Nico would turn around at the last minute. Since he turned around, my "cheek" kiss wouldn't happen. It would be a...kiss. My mind got hazy and I couldn't properly think anymore.

Our lips met.

Holy shit, we were kissing.

I didn’t have the guts to open my eyes and face reality. His lips were soft and they tasted like cake. He was kissing me by now. Screw Oliver, this was how a boy should kiss a girl. So, I did what was suitable to do.

I kissed him back.

 -

...happy birthday, Nico! and an early happy birthday to me!

*uncontrollable giggles*

love, a very happy yas