Before you read: This fic takes place on Paige's birthday. I'm aware that her birthday takes place during the school year. However, this is set after High Fidelity, so, for purposes of the fic, her birthday is in the summer.
Anyways, feedback is heavily encouraged. I haven't written Degrassi fic in so long, I hope I haven't lost sight of the characters.
x.x.x
There's a light in the night,And I wonder if you've come back for me.
x.x.x
Happy birthday to me.
The cake is generic pink and white, with candy flowers and two numbered candles – a one and on eight – to represent the start of another year of my life.
I don't make a wish when I blow them out. Instead – while mom, dad, Dylan, Marco, and Hazel are smiling at me, Mom flashing the camera in my face – I remember back to a few years ago when I was standing here with Ashley Kerwin, my eyes glittering with excitement at turning twelve (I mean, I was practically an adult). I'd told her I had it all planned out – every moment and milestone in my life until I was out of college and on my own. I remember it so well for two reasons.
One: She'd said to me afterwards, "That sounds nice, Paige, but come on, no one can really predict the future like that." It was typical Ashley, trying to burst my bubble, I knew, but it struck a chord with me.
Because two: She was totally and completely right.
Everyone's clapping now and shoving presents at me. I know, poor little spoiled girl – her parents and friends shower her with gifts. But for some reason, today, I don't think I can handle it.
I excuse myself for a moment and no one bothers to look as I rush upstairs. Mom and Dad are caught up in the birthday spirit, but I can't blame them. I am the only girl and I'm growing up. They want to savor every moment of it. Plus, I think Marco said something funny, so that must've gotten them a bit distracted from caring.
Ugh. I feel like a whiny song lyric from those bands that Ashley circa 2002 (AKA: The Heinous Goth Year) used to listen to – sucky and a total downer. I need to get a grip. It's not like I want anyone hovering over me, asking what's wrong like I can't take care of myself.
I just can't deal anymore. I'm supposed to be getting older – hello, I'm eighteen today, an adult! – and I still feel like the same immature little girl who used to wear too tight t-shirts with "Hottie" emblazoned across the chest.
And it's not like Mom or Dad understand. They try to, but it's just not the same. Dylan's famous for his pep talks, but what does he know? He's on his own – a big boy now, all grown up, making the parentals proud. And Marco and Hazel? They're going to be great, and they know it.
I don't know it. I don't know how good – or bad – I'm going to be.
I just – I can't be with them, laughing and being all smiles, when I feel like there's this huge piece of me that's missing and I don't even know what it is.
Before I can let myself travel into a deeper pit of depression and self-deprecation, two things happen simultaneously. There's a knock at my door and the cell on my desk starts buzzing.
The door opens and Hazel appears, concern splashed across her face.
"Hey, honey, what's going on?" she asks, and shuts the door behind her.
I ignore her for a second and reach over to look at my phone. It's a text.
From Alex.
Happy birthday, it says, plain and simple. My stomach clenches automatically. I take a deep breath and snap my phone shut.
No, no, NO, I think to myself. She cannot be the reason you're acting like this. This is totally wrong and uncalled for.
"Who was that?" Hazel asks, trying not to appear nosy, but completely fails.
"Oh, you know," I say casually. "Alex Nuñez, queen of all that used to be wrong in my life."
Yeah, keep saying that, Paige. Maybe one day you'll start to believe it.
"She left me a happy birthday text," I add.
"What, no real message? That's so tacky. Be glad you're done with her."
"Oh, so glad," I say flatly, forgetting to speak with conviction.
Hazel eyes me for a second. In the next instant, her face lights up and she gasps. "Oh my god."
"What?" I say, semi-irritably.
"You still have a thing for her."
I sigh. There's no more point in lying.
"There is no way I'm letting you sulk around about this all day, especially on your birthday. Grab your keys and let's go," Hazel adds, grabbing me by the wrist.
"Whoa, calm down, Haze. What are you talking about?"
"Um, your rediscovered love for Alex. I may not like her, but Paige, let's face it – when you're upset you let everyone know it, and no one likes to be around it. So, I'm doing the only logical thing – taking you to see her. Let's go."
I let go of my instinct to argue. I grab my purse, my phone, and my keys and follow her out of my room.
x.x.x
Hazel tells my parents we're going out for a bit for a last minute gift she suddenly remembered. They object a little but Dylan gives them the wise, older brother look that tells them they shouldn't press it. We're out the door and into my car seconds later.
Hazel asks me what I'm going to say when we get there.
Hell if I know.
x.x.x
"Hold on a second!" is the response I get moments after knocking.
I take this time to consider running back to the car, but before I can even turn around, the door swings open and she's standing there before me. It's silly, I know, but for some reason I expected her to change. But there is, in baggy jeans and a white wifebeater, staring back at me.
"Hi," she greets softly, taken aback, I can tell. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but then finally runs a hand through her hair and says, "Do you want to come in?"
I nod, my hands clasped in front of me, and walk in.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asks, heading for the kitchen. She grabs two cans out of the fridge and hands one of them – a gingerale, my favorite – to me. I smile, touched by her automatic gesture. "Nice purse," she adds with smirk.
I can't really tell if she's being sarcastic or not.
"Thanks. It's Versace. My aunt gave it to me for my birthday," I explain and watch as she makes a face, unimpressed. It's so typical Alex, but something I've grown accustomed to and started find endearing, much unlike Dylan's obsession with hockey or. . . Ellie Nash's sarcasm.
"That's why I came, actually," I continue, reffering to the text message. "It's just. . . for the past few months you've been my rock and it felt wrong, you not being with me on my birthday."
She's silent for a while, and I start regret my openness.
"Yeah," she says. "I know what you mean."
"Really?" I ask, not even bothering to mask the surprise.
She nods. "Yeah, I really hate the way I left things. But it was just. . . hard, you know?"
"I know. And I've been a total mess lately because of the birthday thing. In fact, I was having a big birthday bash and Hazel noticed how upset I was and. . . well, suggested that I come here."
Alex stops. "Hazel?" she laughs. "You mean the chick that could barely stomach the fact that we were once a thing? Good one, Paige."
"I'm serious."
Alex notices. "Wow," she says. "I think this is the first time I've ever actually wanted to express some sort of positivity towards her existence."
I roll my eyes. "Very funny, hon."
She changes the subject. "I made you something."
"What?" I ask.
"Close your eyes and hold out your hands," she instructs. Reluctanlty, I obey. "Now, it's not much, but I think it gets the point across." I hear her move around, and the finally feel something touch the palm of my hands.
I open my eyes to see a cupcake, decked out in blue icing and multi-colored sprinkles with one tiny candle plopped in the middle, before me.
"You made this?" I ask, a huge grin breaking its way onto my face.
"Yeah, and it wasn't easy, either. I am so not the Betty Crocker type."
"It's wonderful. Thank you," I say. Then I pause. "Hey, just out of curiosity – what would you have done with this if I hadn't shown up?"
She shrugged. "I probably would've given it to Jay to eat."
I just stare. "Wow, thanks."
She smiles. "I'm kidding. Geez, Michalchuk, chill."
"Sorry," I say. "We haven't been around each other in so long, I think I forgot some of that trademark Alex Nuñez humor."
Suddenly I realize that I've crossed the line between teasing and treading into serious territory. She steps closer to me, and I'm abruptly aware of the change of energy.
"I'm sorry about that, you know," she tells me, and I nod, understanding. "I really didn't want to. . . break it off. It was just. . ."
"Look, Alex," I say, interrupting. "I know we both had our faults and because of them we clashed at times, but I. . . I want to be with you again."
I couldn't believe I was putting myself on the line like that. Sure, Alex missed me, but that didn't mean things were changing. She broke up with me, not the other way around.
"Paige, you're going to Banting in the fall. I'm not. We've been through this thousands of times."
"Yes, we have." I step even closer to her, and take one of her hands with mine, the other still holding the blue cupcake. "But wasn't it great? Do we not deserve a few more great moments – whether they last days or weeks or whatever."
She takes a deep breath and then looks me directly in the eyes. "It's going to hurt like hell when we say goodbye."
I smile gently. "Who knows? Things can always change." I suddenly found Ashley Kerwin's voice in my head. "No one can predict the future."
Alex takes a moment to remove the cupcake from my hand. She places it on the counter, grabs my hand and pulls me toward her, her lips falling onto mine.
"I missed that," she says as we break apart. I smile and nod. Me, too, trust me.
"Come on," I tell her. "Hazel's waiting in the car. We can all go back to my place, do the cake and presents thing and then you and I will spend the day together, okay? We can go out to dinner. Anywhere you like."
"No, you mean anywhere you like. You're the birthday girl. And it's my treat," she insists.
"Your treat?" I ask, liking the sound of that.
"Oh, I didn't tell you? I got a job. It's nothing fancy, just at the video store down the street. My coworkers suck, but whatever. It's money."
I smile and so does she. "I'm proud of you," I say.
"You better be," Alex jokes, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the door. "You know I do it all for you."
She closes the door behind us, her fingers laced with mine and I think that maybe – and this is the only exception – taking it one day at a time doesn't seem so bad.
END.