#rp21

Helena had never fully wrapped her mind around the concept of birthday parties, even as she sat perched at Cecil’s bar next to her sister, a supermarket-cake with their names sloppily scrawled in pink and blue ink sitting in its plastic cage between them. It was one year older- So what? She could get it for when people often didn’t make it to live past four to five or forty to fifty. Maybe Helena could grasp why thirteen, sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-one year olds made a big deal out of it. After all, those were the years someone entered into their teenage years, could drive a car, officially became an ‘adult’, and could start drinking openly in public. 

But, twenty-six? Nothing happened at twenty-six worth noting. And yet here she was, dressed up in her one signature Little Black Dress with a little plastic crown fit snug into her hair with a cheap comb hot-glued onto it.

Still, Helena tried her best to plaster on a smile for both her sister’s and everybody else’s sake, even if people hadn’t quite arrived yet. She knew how much Marta had always wanted some kind of party. Not like they ever got one as kids. And these sorts of social ventures were right up Marta’s alley. Helena turned for Cecil, though, her hands gesturing and not having to worry about the volume of the music blasting in order for him to hear her,

Slushie squinted down at the text Molly had sent him earlier that day. It seemed like he’d be on time to the meetup, but that didn’t make him any less nervous.  He didn’t know her friend, or her friend’s friend, and was worried about worrying – he’d be too uncomfortable to say a word.  What was worse: saying something and being criticised, or being criticised for saying nothing? Whichever it was, he didn’t want to back down. That would be worse than both scenarios combined.

What gave him a shred more confidence was his guardian’s enthusiasm. Pansy seemed excited to hear that the four inkfish were meeting at some place called the Calamari Canteen, and insisted she escort him there. Apparently, there was somebody ‘really important’ she needed him to meet, but she’d not mentioned who exactly. Perhaps it was a member of her family; she’d been busy all weekend getting things ready for him, not even having a moment to tell her cousin, who (from a subtle clue Slushie had seen pinned to the fridge) seemed to live very close by.

 “Here it is,” Pansy chirped despite her obvious exhaustion, leading him through the door. He quickly scanned the room – it seemed like a nice, homely place – but snapped his head back down again as the phone buzzed:

‘u here yet?’