Sunday, February 26th
199.)
On Sunday, I wasn't feeling much better, but I was better at faking it. I had gotten some sleep, and the muscles in my face seemed more compliant when I tried to pull them up into a smile. I even managed to hold a halfway decent conversation about highway truck stops.
"I was thinking," Blossom said, as she pulled off the exit heading home, "I have an idea for next weekend. For your birthday."
Well, so much for trying to feel better.
"Let's do a whole baby day. You can't be twenty-one if you're in a diaper and a onesie."
"I have school," I sighed.
"Skip."
"You have school," I sighed again.
"I'll skip."
"I also have therapy," I said. "Should I skip that too?"
"Mm..." Blossom paused on that one. "Well, after therapy. We can do the whole evening together."
"I dunno. I think I'll be too depressed."
"How about because we're skipping school, we'll see if your therapist can fit you in earlier in the day. We'll go up early, get therapy done, and then spend the entire rest of the day and evening in baby town, alright? And if you're depressed I bet you'll feel further away from it once you're all Littled out."
"Or, we could skip the beach house altogether," I sulked. "I can stay at home and act like an emo kid from 2005. What did they listen to? My Chemical Romance?"
"It'll be fun," Blossom whined.
"It will certainly not be fun."
"Well, if it's not fun then I'll do your makeup and hair like a 2005 emo kid instead and we can fuck the world together. Deal?"
There was no winning this argument with Blossom. I knew this whole week was going to suck, and I'd shut her out more than either of us wanted me to. When Friday came, I'd feel so guilty, I'd probably do anything to make it up to her. There were worse ways than playing baby.
"Maybe we should just go to a bar," I shrugged, pulling at my fingers in my lap. "That's what you're supposed to do on your twenty-first birthday anyway. I'll get so drunk that I won't have problems anymore."
"Ah, but the girl who doesn't want to be twenty-one doesn't get to do the things twenty-one year olds do. Sorry babes, that's just the rules. You don't get to turn twenty-one; things just start over and we raise you again from scratch. Your mom adores me, so I'm sure she'll hire me as your cute college girl babysitter, right?"
Story idea. Though it was a bit derivative...
"Fine," I sighed. "But I'm holding you to that emo thing if this doesn't work out. Make sure to buy purple hair dye."
"You know I will, babes. One way or another, you're gonna have a transformative time with your hottie cheerleader girlfriend Blossom."
Although, for all her bluster and confidence, Blossom felt a lot of unease about keeping Amy safe from her own depression.
"I wonder what the sorority will think of Emo Blossom," I pondered. "You'll need an edgier name, like Dagger."
"At least you're still funny when you're sad," Blossom laughed.
"Levity is my defense mechanism. Levity and leavening." Okay, that was actually a pretty good joke.
"That might be the funniest thing you've ever said, Amanda Pearson. It's almost like you're a writer or something! But don't forget to call your therapist about rescheduling for an earlier time. No canceling, though; if she can't reschedule we'll make it work."
"Sure, I'll do that."
I wouldn't do that.
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