picture: betty's flower crown

eleven

It was a beautiful day. The sun had shone brightly but the heat was minimum, the wind crisp and chilly that reminded Betty of ice-cream. Summer was officially over and done, now that she could see the autumn leaves falling down like jigsaw pieces. It was her favourite kind of weather; Betty felt the happiest that she had in weeks.

Majority of that happiness also had to do with the fact that it was her seventeenth birthday. And she was done surrounding herself with melancholic thoughts, and wallowing in despair. At least for now. At least for today.

Her mother wanted Betty to throw a birthday bash, but after the few weeks she's had since the school commenced, having those students over for a drunken night out didn't seem appealing to say the least. So she happily settled for quality over quantity, inviting her coterie of girls for an exquisite evening garden party.

She had adorned herself in a flowy white dress with a pair of white boot heels. It was knee-length with spaghetti straps but she didn't mind the cold in the slightest. Her golden hair was loosely tied up, the curls swaying past her forehead and shoulders. She wore hoops in her ears and a couple of jingling bracelets. To complete the vintage look, she wore a daisy flower crown that she had woven a couple days ago.

Mentally congratulating herself at the effort of keeping up with the theme, she let out a little sigh. Even though Betty was doing a great job at keeping her feelings in check, they slipped out every now and then; and she couldn't help but feel defeated from the inside. She let her thoughts wander to her father for once. He sent her cheap birthday cards for the first two years after he left them. He didn't even bother to write her name on it, but it was obvious who the consignor was. Betty never looked at them more than once. And after those two years, there was nothing but silence.

Shaking off the thoughts and discarding them into the farthest corners of her mind, Betty left her room and wandered through the house making some final arrangements. Blake had come over earlier and helped her with the décor and food.

To say the garden had been transformed into a scene from a fairytale is an understatement. Betty took a moment to adore her hardwork. They hung over a dozen origami balls and paper lamps from the trees, underneath of which sat wooden tables and benches in a row. They set the tables with glittery white fabric and china dishes, and glass cutlery. A buffet module was adjacent to it, housing baked buns, cinnamon rolls, cheese quesadillas, pizza pin-wheels, fries and dips to the side. Chocolate dipped strawberries and wafers, and sweet tea and lemonade for dessert. She had worked extra hard to make her swing chair look attractive, surrounding it with lanterns, candles and fairy lights.

It was a dreamy experience, and she felt no less than a princess.

Soon enough, the place was brimming with light chatter from her friends and their endless gushing over the pretty sight. Betty delightfully thanked them for the presents and wishes, complimenting their outfits when they said they loved hers. She served them refreshments, clicked pictures under the sparkling lights, and played them a song on the old piano in their living room.

Filled with content and gratification, Betty was just preparing for her two-tiered birthday cake to make an entrance, when the doorbell rang through the house. Confused, she scanned the garden but couldn't find anyone missing. And without warning, a feeling of dread overtook her as she took the few steps to the front door. She was vaguely aware of Blake following behind her but the heartbeat in her ears was drumming too loud, drowning out the sound of her footsteps. Betty placed her palm over the doorknob and willed herself to be brave. The unmistakable scent of betrayal travelled to her before she even twisted it open.

After spending the entire summer with some other girl, after cheating on her and cowardly avoiding her for another month, James had the audacity to show up her party.

She should have slammed the door, should have screamed at him to go fuck himself but she was aware of all the eyes on her. Plus, she had really looked at him after months. And he looked broken. So she froze at the sight of him the first few seconds where they stood staring at each other. She would have stood like that for a while more, had it not been Blake's piercing voice slicing through them.

"What the fuck do you want?!" She came between them like a blazing wave and stood protectively.

"Blake–" Betty said the same time James said, "Betty–"

"No, I'm not hearing a word." Blake interrupted them both, "Get the fuck out."

"Blake, please. I'll be there in a minute." Betty made sure her gaze was stern enough for her to convey the message. Blake looked like would have pulled her hair out with frustration. She didn't blame her. "Go."

Reluctantly, she stepped back, sending a scornful eye to James. "One minute."

When Betty proceeded to step on the porch and close the door behind her, Blake nudged her hard and insisted on keeping it open. She sighed heavily, suddenly feeling way older than her seventeen years. Bracing herself for the mess that's about to happen, Betty faced James squarely.

"Why are you here?"

It was evident James was worn from the inside out. His sleepless eyes and rumpled hair were just the physical inclinations, but his fingers massaged his temples, no doubt clearing out the brewing headache. His steps were fidgeting nervously, unsure of what to say. She pretended to run out of patience and slightly turned back when he called her. "Betty, here me out, please."

"I am, aren't I?" She folded her arms across her chest, "But you're time's ticking, make it fast and leave."

"Okay, no. I don't wanna leave. Betty, I– I want you back," James stumbled over his words.

Wanting to go back with him was the last thing she wanted. If he was here to make amends, then she would have to stop him before he carried out his futile attempts. "James–"

"No, listen," James cut her off before she could. "Here me out please. I want you back. What happened between you and I was bad. It all went wrong from the day of the prom."

Day of the prom? Betty's mouth hung open in disbelief. "And who's fault was that?"

"You danced with him, Betty," he said flatly.

"Wow!" She blurted incredulously. She knew James could be a little slow with these things but this was beyond her fixing. "Okay, I'm done with this."

"No wait. Look, let's put it in the past, please."

"What about the part were you cheated on me?!" Betty exploded. "For a whole month! Again and again and again!"

"What I did with August was nothing. It didn't mean anything. It was just– just a summer thing. I was messed up after you left. I wanted something to distract myself with. And she offered help, you know. But it was also wrong on my part. And I regret it now. Betty, I miss you, please. I don't know what Inez told you. You can't seriously believe a word that comes out of her mouth."

Betty shook her head and she saw a petal from her flower crown fall down. "It's not just Inez."

"No, I know. What she's saying is true, but maybe she filled your head with her vicious ideas."

"She didn't."

"Betty, do you not miss me?" James stepped closer to her, and despite everything, she itched to touch him. "Do you not think about what we had? Does that not mean anything to you?"

"Does it to you?" She whispered.

"Of course, that's why I'm here, right? I miss that. I miss you. I miss your stupid cardigan, I miss kissing you. I won't hold that dance against you, can you do the same for me? Please, you're the one I want, you're my– my favourite girl, and I wanna make it up to you. Please. I'll do anything you say."

There was so much wrong with everything James was babbling, and it was no proper apology; and Betty was quite done taking shit from him. "Okay, for starters, listen to me now because I won't ever say it again."

"Betty–"

"For fuck's sake, shut up, James. You cheated on me. You made me feel worthless, like a used piece of crap. You chased another girl for a whole summer behind my back and now you have the nerve to stand here on my porch and say that you want me back because I am your favourite?! That you are choosing me over her because you miss me and the attention I gave you? James, grow the fuck up. This isn't a game. I will not allow you to run around having adventures and come back to me when it's convenient for you. When you are going to chase two girls, you'll definitely lose one. Though in this case, it seems like you lost both."

"I didn't even have her to begin with," he muttered.

"So now you want me back? And you won't hold that dance against me? Are you hearing yourself? You were always jealous of him and you'll always be. But I won't carry around your baggage of insecurities. Besides, I danced with Rick. You fucked another girl. If you look closer, you'll find a difference in there!"

Betty was panting hard, rage filling inside of her. James had heard her outburst with perplexity, trying to comprehend her words. Nonetheless, he didn't plan on giving up now that he's come so far.

"Trust me, please." James started with his cursory explanations again. "It was just a summer thing. It didn't mean anything to me. I was completely lost in my thoughts when she showed up like– like my worst intentions. She lured me in, and twisted my mind. But I kept thinking about you all summer long; even during the times I was with her."

"So you cheated on her, too?"

James was taken aback. "Wha- what?"

She didn't think it was possible but Betty's heart sank even further. She was tired. Knowing what she knows now, she didn't think she could ever give him another chance. "You don't even get it, do you?"

"I don't care about her, Betty. I am here for you now." His eyes were glinting with unshed tears. "Trust me, please."

Betty closed her eyes, keeping her own tears at bay. "Hardly makes a difference, James."

James stepped back and paced on the porch, running his hands through his hair, messing it in exasperation. "God, I'm only seventeen. This is so hard for me. I don't know what to do to make it better!"

"I'm seventeen too, but you don't see me using that as an excuse to sleep around." When he turned towards her, she had made up her mind with finality. "Leave."

"No," James shook his head and tried to touch her. "Please don't say that."

Blake stepped out from the house and hindered James from coming any further. Unintentionally, her mind went to that winter day in the downtown bar when she first saw him take out Betty. Felt like a lifetime ago. "Your time is up, James."

James didn't even spare a glance at Blake. "Betty, I will make it up to you."

"I don't want you to. Just leave and never show me your face again," Betty said calmly.

In a flash, James' eyes lit up with an epiphany. He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You'll go back to Rick, right? That's what you'll do!"

"FUCK YOU, JAMES!" Betty spat in disgust, not quite believing he dared to say that. "I am not you! I will not sweep down to your level. I don't need him and I certainly don't need you! Get out of my house."

Without waiting to see his reaction, Betty spun on her heels and shut the front door with a bang. Blake visibly flinched at the raucous sound but was next to her in an instant, trying to calm her down.

"The audacity of that bitch," Betty said venomously and met the eyes of a dozen girls staring sheepishly at her from the garden. For a split second she was confused as to why these many people were there in her house, then she recalled. She held their understanding gazes for a while before her eyes swept over to the kitchen and landed on the abandoned birthday cake.

Betty sighed defeatedly, closed her eyes and let a tear fall. She felt Blake's arms squeeze her shoulders and she let her hold her. Within a minute, she was sandwiched between all her friends, who murmured silly words of comfort.

Happy birthday to me, Betty thought brokenly.

~•~

am