A year ago, the worst thing that could happen in my world was my parents trying to buy me a DREXA phone.
In fact, that's exactly what they did for my seventeenth birthday.
I walk into the kitchen to find a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" Crouching down to give Romeo a back rub before straightening and facing my smiling parents.
"Happy Birthday, honey," Mom says, throwing open her arms, her chunky bracelets banging into each other. "I can't believe you're seventeen now! Where does the time go?"
Laughing, I receive the mandatory hug and kiss from both of my parents.
"It seems like just yesterday your mom and I were chasing you around in diapers," my dad says, ruffling my braids. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."
"Thanks, Dad." I smile at my father. I've always been a daddy's girl.
Dad resumes his seat at the breakfast table, reading his newspaper with one hand while sipping his coffee with the other.
"Well, aren't you going to open your presents?" Mom asks, practically bouncing on her feet.
I smile and tentatively approach the small pile of presents on the kitchen counter.
As the only child of my parents, my birthdays are like holidays in our household. Both my parents take a day off work to spend my birthday with me. Usually we stay in and watch movies together or play board games, just enjoying each others company. In the evenings, we go out for a birthday dinner with family and friends. And after dinner my parents and I sit out on our front porch, with popcorn and sodas, and watch the stars. It's a tradition we've had for as long as I can remember. And one I treasure more than anything.
Mum doesn't believe in making me wait until the end of the day to open my presents, either. Since I was little, she's known I anticipate my gifts throughout the day. So as a rule, I get to open my birthday presents first thing in the morning.
I spy a small rectangular, wrapped box at the top of the pile and grab it first. Making quick work of the wrapping paper, I stare in horror.
"You got me a DREXA phone?" I say, holding up the sleek black box like it's contaminated.
"Told you she wouldn't like it," I hear Dad mumble from behind his newspaper, earning him a sharp glare from my mother.
"It's the latest model," Mom says defensively. "Chloe has one. So, I thought you'd want to match with your best friend."
"Mom, we've talked about this," I set the box down on the counter and place my fingertips against my temple. "Do you know what Orion Drexler and his company represent? They're complete vultures who couldn't care less about the environment or the workers that run their sweat shops in Cambodia."
"Not this again, Journee," Mom rolls her hazel eyes, looking to my dad, who still hasn't resurfaced from behind his newspaper. "It's just a cell phone."
"Made from minerals strip-mined from developing countries by a company that exploits their workers with zero labor protection, and then markets their blood-soaked products to teenagers as 'lifestyle essentials'." I slide the phone across the table and fold my arms. "No, thank you, mother."
"Okay, I get it. DREXA tech are bad people," Mom says, placing her hands on my folded arms placatingly. "But we've already got the phone. Can't you just say thank you and put it under your bed like a normal teenager?"
"She's passionate about her environmental activism, Jodie," Dad interjects, glancing at us from over the top of his newspaper. "That's how we raised her to be. I admire that about her."
"Thanks, Dad," I beam at him, while mom rolls her eyes.
"Even if her lectures are a little annoying," he adds from behind the paper.
Mom snickers into her hand, and my mouth drops open in shock. "Dad!"
"What? I love your convictions, sweetheart, but sometimes you sound like a seventy-year-old technophobe."
I cross my arms, tying to look offended, but I can't help the smile tugging at my lips.
This is how it's always been with my parents—comfortable teasing, but always wrapped in love. Even when they think I'm being dramatic, they never shut me down completely.
A car door slams shut outside, interrupting our morning banter. Through the kitchen window, I catch a glimpse of Zack, Chloe's older brother, moving in their driveway next door.
"I'm going to go next door and see Chloe," I say, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
Mom exchanges a knowing look with Dad. "Okay. Don't forget we're watching 'Independence Day' at twelve. Invite Chloe if you want."
"Okay," I'm already hurrying outside.
Zack is loading a cooler and some fishing gear into the back of his Jeep. Even at this early hour, he looks like he's just stepped out of some outdoor adventure magazine.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with his military-assigned crew cut, Zack is every fantasy I've ever had rolled into one package. And that package happens to also be my best friend's brother.
"Hey, Zack," I call out, padding across the dewy grass that separates our driveways.
He looks up and grins, that smile that makes his dimples pop and my heart do embarassing somersaults. "Morning, Journee. You're up early for a Saturday."
"It's my birthday," I blurt out, then immediately want to disappear into the ground for being so obvious.
"No kidding? Happy birthday!" His enthusiasm seems genuine, not just polite. "Seventeen, right?"
"Yeah," I rock back on my heels next to him, trying to think of something interesting to say. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Two-week fishing trip with my dad before I deploy." He gestures to all the gear. "Been planning it for months."
My stomach drops little at the mention off him leaving, but I keep smiling. "That sounds amazing. Where are you going?"
"We're headed up to Lake Superior. Dad's been talking about this perfect spot he found last summer." Zack closes the tailgate and turns to face me fully.
"Oh, yeah. Chloe mentioned you guys had a house down there," I say, trying to maintain my casual.
"It's more like a cabin, actually. And it's the best. You should have Chloe bring you up sometime."
"That'd be cool," I say, racking my brain for ways to elongate our conversation. This is the longest I've spoken to Zack one-on-one.
"Tell him what—I'll catch you a special fish for your birthday. And maybe bring you back some of those smooth stones from the shoreline. You always liked those when you were little."
My eyes light up knowing he remembered such a small detail. "You remembered? I'd love that."
The Kings' front door opens and Professor King walks out. He smiles when he sees me. "Hey, Journee. You're up early. Birthday jitters?"
"Hi, Mr. King. You know how birthdays are in my family."
Professor King laughs his deep wheezing laugh. "Sure do. Sorry we're going to miss it. Zack and I only have today to catch up on our fishing before he leaves again."
"It's okay, Professor King. Zack promised me a birthday present when you get back." Professor King pats Zack on the shoulder. "That's our Zack."
"Journee!" Chloe's voice carries from her bedroom window above us. "Get up here!" I look up to see my best friend hanging out of her second-story window, her light brown hair catching the morning. Light. She's already dressed and alert, probably been awake for hours sketching in that window seat of hers.
"Duty calls," I say to Zack, gesturing toward the house.
"Have a great birthday, Journee," Professor king says, walking round to the passenger side.
"You two try not to cause too much trouble while we're gone." Zack smiles mischievously. He pats my shoulder and gets into the driver's seat. Zack honks twice as he pulls away.
I stand watching the truck drive off, a huge grin on my face, and my shoulder tingling.
"Journee!" Chloe's impatient call.
"Coming!" I practically skip into Chloe's house.
I let myself in through their back door and into the kitchen. I've been walking through the Kings' house like it's my second home ever since Chloe and I became friends in middle school, and that's likely never going to change. I notice the empty kitchen where Mrs. King can usually be found cooking up some delicious Korean food. She's probably at her morning Pilates class.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I burst into Chloe's room to find her curled up in her favorite spot by the window, a sketch pad in her lap and charcoal smudged on her fingers.
"So," she says without looking up from her drawing, a smirk in her voice. "How long did you stand out there making heart eyes at my brother?"
"I was not making heart eyes!" I protest, flopping dramatically onto her bed. "I was being neighborly."
"Uh-huh." She finally looks at me, one eyebrow raised. "You know, if I was a little more insecure, I'd think you only came over here for Zack."
"Oh please," I say rolling my eyes. "You're the most secure person I know. Simone Riley herself couldn't phase you."
"I don't know. Those pineapple pajamas are screaming temptress to me."
I sit up and throw a pillow at her. "Shut up. What are you drawing?"
She shows me the sketch—a detailed rendering of the view from her window, complete with Zack loading his car and me standing there in my ridiculous pineapple-print pajamas.
"You drew me with hearts in my eyes!"
"That's just my artistic rendering." Chloe closes the sketch pad and scoots over to make room for me on the window seat. "So, birthday girl, what's the plan for your last year of being a minor?"
"Ugh, don't remind me. Graduation's in six weeks, then college in the fall." I curl up opposite her, both of us looking out at our quiet neighborhood street. "Everything's changing so fast."
"I know. It's weird to think that this might be our last summer hanging out like this every day."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, watching old Mrs. Haggerty rock gently back-and-forth on her front porch.
"Hey, I got you something for your birthday," Chloe gets up and goes to rummage through her dresser drawer.
"You already gave me a present last week. The charm bracelet from Denny's, remember?"
"That was your pre-birthday present, to throw you off the scent while I finished your real birthday present."
Chloe pulls out a gift-wrapped rectangle and hands it to me, siting back in her corner of the window seat.
"Open it," Chloe says excitedly.
I tear off the wrapping paper and gasp when I see the book within.
"It's a scrapbook of all our memories together," Chloe smiles.
I flip slowly through the pages of Chloe's gift, reliving each memory as if it were yesterday. By the time I'm through, my eyes are watering.
"I love it. Thank you Chlo," I reach over and hug Chloe tightly.
"Promise me we'll stay friends forever. Promise me." Chloe's voice comes out muffled by my braids.
"Forever and a day."