the alabama sun is high in the sky and the heat rises off the black tar pavement in waves. birdie sits on the curb of the sidewalk, her knees tucked together, her feet askew on the ground. if her mama could see her now — the lord would hope to hear her prayer. her lips are cherry red and her tongue darts out of her mouth to take long swipes at the ice pop in her hand. the popsicle is half-melted, its juice running down her hand in sticky pink lines. she looks a mess — except, really, she doesn’t. she looks like she’s happy more than anything else.
“ i’m just sayin’, babydoll, it’s gonna be a fun time, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. ” the inflection of her voice rises at the end. her tone is condescending ; her tone is challenging. she doesn’t mean it to be. it’s just how she talks.
her friend kiersten stands in front of her rocking backwards on her heels, her hands tucked in the pocket of her jumper.. “ bird, i just --- it ain’t you. you know i’d follow you to the end of the world, but word has it cameron is gonna be there and i don’t think he’d take too kindly to seein’ me there. ”
there’s a glint in birdie’s eye. “ why not ? you’ve done nothing wrong. “
kiersten shakes her head. “ he’s still mad about me standing him up and i know --- “
“ he’s a dirty cheating jerk who deserved what he got. tell me i’m wrong. ” she’s stood up at this point, dropping the popsicle stick to the ground. her thighs have tiny pieces of gravel sticking to the backs of them. “ c’mon, tell me i’m wrong. “ she folds her arms across her chest
“ then we’re gonna march in there arm in arm, dance the night away, and show him what he’s missing. you weren’t crowned miss blue bonnet over me for nothing, “ she shoots a wink at her friend before reaching a hand out. she laces their fingers together, her skin still sticky. “ i told you this summer is about you. ain’t no dumb boy gonna mess this up for us. “
finally, a small smile rises to kiersten’s face. “ just for you, bird. ”
hand in hand, they walk inside. they have a party to get ready for.
the party should be fun. the two-story mansion is lit up bright white and they can feel the ground shaking from the vibration of the music the moment they turn onto the drive. there’s a ferrari parked out front and a couple is making out on the hood of a porsche behind it. inside, bodies are everywhere. it’s obscene the amount of kids there. there’s art on the wall, priceless and precious, and statues of marble and porcelain lining the halls. the kids there themselves are modern art. they’re in perfectly-tailored clothing ; their make-up costs thousands. glitter on eyes and cheeks sparkles under the light. corners of lips are upturned. heels of louboutins and leather shoes hit the tile with a resonating sound. people are dancing, people are talking. somewhere in the back, people are snorting white powder with a one hundred dollar bill and a black card.
this is the sort of place birdie normally thrives, but the party does not end up being fun.
it’s a quarter past midnight and --- at this point --- birdie is fed up. she’s angry and drunk but mostly she’s angry. kiersten is tucked under her arm, crying, and she’s whispering soft words in her friend’s ear to try and ease her tears. she can’t believe how the night turned out. they were having fun ; they were dancing and singing along to the music, losing themselves to the music. it was fun and distracting --- just what the pair needed to enjoy themselves. of course, it was, just up until a boy bumped into the pair on purpose. he coughed “ slut “ at kiersten before bursting into laughter and walking away.
birdie saw red. she is still seeing red, but her first priority is calming her friend down. it takes a few minutes, and another shot tipped back through her tears, but finally kiersten’s shoulders stop shaking and her breathing evens.
with a sniffle, kiersten replies in the affirmative. he’s a friend of cameron’s.
she grabs two martini glasses, one in each hand, off of the tray someone is holding. she brings one to her lips, tipping it back quickly. it’s a little mental reassurance. she looks down at the second, nods to herself, and grabs another before she walks to the other side of the room where a group of boys are standing. they see her approach and they start laughing. this only fuels the flame in her.
“ cameron ? ” her head tilts to the side, an easy smile playing on her lips.
one of the group nods. “ that’s me. what’s it to you ? ”
she takes a step closer, her voice is a coo. “ i just want to give you something. ”
he looks to his friends and laughs again. “ yeah ? what is it ? ”
she closes the gap between them, and leans in close. then, she tips the first martini glass over his head. “ that’s for kiersten. ”
he shouts as she pops the olive out of second glass and into her mouth. she chews it briefly before dumping the second on him. “ that’s because i felt like it. ”
he’s cursing and yelling obscenities at her. he screams about a drycleaning bill for a cashmere sweater. someone mentions that the carpet’s going to stain. it doesn’t matter, though. birdie turned on her heels, her chin raised high. she walks back over to kiersten whose eyes are wide.
“ i think it’s time we left. ”
prguitarman
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
kianamaiart
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
