Birthday Treat

Chapter 12

Tina's POV continues...

"What are you waiting for? Come on, strip off your clothes, and let's get inside," Veronica ordered, already halfway out of her outfit. She always had a sense of urgency when it came to anything fun.

I hesitated for a second, looking down at my clothes, then at the jacuzzi bubbling away with a scent of roses so strong that I half expected a Cupid to pop out. Well, when in Rome.

We stripped off, leaving only two pieces on for modesty's sake, and slid into the jacuzzi. It was huge, like someone decided to combine a bath with a swimming pool. Rose petals floated delicately on the water's surface like a scene straight out of a romantic movie.

No wonder it's called the House of Roses.

"Uhh, this is exactly what I needed," I sighed, sinking deeper into the warmth.

"Right?" Veronica echoed, stretching luxuriously. "After all that dancing last night, my body felt like it was made of steel. Speaking of the party, did you enjoy it? And... did you tell Joe?"

I sighed, the bubbles rising up like a visual representation of my mood. "I didn't. Tamara looked like she was one toast away from writing 'Mrs. Joe' in her diary, and I didn't want to get in the middle of that." I leaned my head back. "I think it's just better if we stay friends."

Veronica and Trisha slid closer, making their best impression of supportive penguins.

Trisha then grabbed a bottle of champagne from the nearby table. Bless her!. And handed us each a glass.

"Jacuzzi and champagne. This is how I want to live every day," Veronica said with a grin. "One day, I'll bring my boyfriend here."

"Boyfriend? Veronica, when's the last time you went on a date that didn't involve phone?" I teased.

"It's a secret," she waved me off, while Trisha shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat.

"Speaking of relationships," Trisha began, fiddling with her glass, "I'm seeing someone."

Vero nearly dropped her champagne. "Wait, what?!" She managed to sputter. "And I'm only hearing this now? What kind of friend are you?"

Trisha smirked and leaned back. "His name's Edam, our senior. We met at the library. You know, the place where people go to study, unlike some who are there to drool over guys," she added with a side glance at me.

Veronica immediately snapped her gaze at me. "Did you know about this?"

"I knew something was up when I caught her smiling at nothing like she was in a toothpaste commercial!" I held up my hands in defense. "But I didn't know who."

Veronica relaxed, sipping her drink. "Alright, alright. So when are we going to meet him? We need to see if this Edam guy is worthy of you."

I mentally unclenched, relieved that I wasn't about to be murdered for keeping secrets. Veronica had this uncanny ability to turn minor betrayals into a week of buying her lunch.

As we got out of the jacuzzi, wrapped in bathrobes, I felt that delightful combination of tipsy and way-too-relaxed. It's like your brain gives up on functioning and you float along in a blissful haze. Except my stomach decided to remind me I hadn't eaten.

Trisha, the queen of organization, pulled out a picnic basket like Mary Poppins pulling a lamp out of her bag. Chicken fried rice, chow mein, another bottle of champagne... she really planned this out.

"Another bottle?" I asked with a half-genuine concern.

"Yep. It's your birthday, girl," Trisha said, as though that was a reasonable excuse for getting me plastered.

"But I'm already drunk," I replied, and Veronica snorted.

"No, no. Tipsy is what you are now. Drunk is when we have to drag your unconscious body out of here."

Ah, the joys of friendship.

By the time we finished, my legs felt like jelly and my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy. The cold air hit me as we moved to the deck, and I shivered.

"I'm going to die if we don't get back in the jacuzzi," I muttered dramatically.

"Or we could sleep," I added. "Like, real sleep. Not whatever passed for 'closing my eyes' earlier."

"No way," Trisha said, already pulling me towards the jacuzzi. "If you sleep, you'll never wake up. This is how we keep you alive."

Back in the tub, I closed my eyes, pretending to relax while secretly trying to process the champagne-induced fog. Splash! A wave of warm water smacked me in the face.

I opened my eyes, glaring at my two laughing "friends."

After drinking our way through a second bottle of champagne and officially becoming too lazy to move, we wrapped ourselves in bathrobes and somehow made it to the train station. I was exhausted. Maybe champagne was secretly a sedative. If so, I overdosed.

The ride home was a blur. By the time I got back to my building, the cold air slapped me into semi-awareness. Just in time, because who did I see standing there but Joe, holding a bouquet like he had just stepped out of a flower garden.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and familiar.

Oh no. Not Joe. Not when I'm this drunk. Not when my face probably looks like a beet from the cold and booze.

"Happy birthday," he said, offering the bouquet.

"Thanks," I managed, trying to sound sober and cool. Neither worked.

"Are you alright?" He asked, stepping closer, clearly noticing the wobble in my legs.

"Yep. Totally fine. I definitely didn't drink two bottles of champagne or anything." I attempted to walk past him but promptly tripped. Joe caught me just in time, his hands firm around my waist, our faces close enough that I could count his eyelashes. Why does he have so many eyelashes? Is that normal?

"You've been drinking," he said, a mix of amusement and concern on his face.

"Maybe," I muttered. "Trisha and Veronica made me. Birthday rules."

Joe helped me into the elevator, his hand resting gently on my back. My head was still spinning, and when I leaned into him for support, it was purely for balance. Probably.

By the time we reached my apartment, I could barely remember how we got there. Joe tucked me into bed, and the last thing I remembered was the sound of his voice, low and soft, as he whispered, "Goodnight, Tina."

Tamara's POV

Right. This was it. This morning, I had no other choice but to walk to the Carlton house and tell Joe how I felt. Now or never. I had to confess before that witch, Tina, snatched him away for good. I'd worked so hard to impress him. Being his perfect friend, laughing at his stupid jokes, even pretending to like that terrible indie band he adored. But maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe he'd already fallen into her trap.

I threw on my best outfit and swiped on some makeup. If my charm didn't work, at least my beauty would. Plan A was to spill my guts and confess, but I already had a backup plan. If Plan A failed, I'd just pretend I was on my way to meet some friends and popped by for a quick hello. Yep, foolproof.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. Red, puffy eyes stared back at me. Great. I looked like I'd been crying all night. Probably because I had cried all night. Why, oh why, had I finished that bottle of tequila after coming home from Joe's place? I'd sobbed myself into oblivion. What else could I have done? Watching him with Tina was unbearable. I've loved him since we were kids. I can't just stand by and watch him fall for someone else. Especially her.

"Damn it!" I muttered, rifling through my dresser. There was nothing. I pulled open another drawer. Shades. Yes, perfect! I grabbed a pair. Then frowned. Wait. It's not sunny. I'd look like an idiot. I threw them back in frustration and dug through another drawer. Bingo. Fancy fashion glasses. Dark enough to hide the damage. Thank God for my accessory obsession. Being a fashion designer meant I had a ton of useful stuff for moments like these.

I threw on my boots, grabbed my coat, and marched to the Carlton house like a woman on a mission. Which, to be fair, I was.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and pancakes hit me as soon as I reached the door, and my stomach growled loudly. I hadn't eaten since last night. I'd been too busy drowning in alcohol. Of course, the smell wasn't the only thing waiting for me. Last night my appetite vanished when I saw Joe and Tina sitting together outside, laughing like they were only two people on earth.

Great. I cursed under my breath, trying to keep my face neutral. Fuck that bitch.

"Good morning, Mrs. Carlton," I said, forcing a smile.

"Good morning, dear. And please, call me Jasmine. Mrs. Carlton makes me feel old," she said with a laugh.

Mr. Carlton lowered his newspaper and peered over his reading glasses at me, eyebrow raised. I smirked, but Jasmine shot him a look that clearly said, Don't you dare. There was tension, and I didn't want to get caught in the middle of some parental standoff.

"Is Joe still sleeping?" I asked quickly, hoping for a distraction.

"Nope, he went to Justin's," Jia chimed in, bouncing over from the deck in a full yoga getup. "Namaste," she said, striking a ridiculous pose.

"How do you even know that?" Mrs. Carlton asked, sounding surprised.

"He was all over the roof this morning," Jia replied with an exaggerated eye roll.

My heart sank. So much for Plan A. Joe wasn't even home. Great. Just great. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to scream. Now what? When was I ever going to tell him how I felt? It was sitting in my chest like a weight, crushing me.

I briefly considered confiding in Jia, but knowing her, she'd just laugh her head off and call me crazy.

Jia grinned at me. "Why are you all dressed up? Party's over, friend."

Plan B, initiate. "Oh, I'm on my way to meet some friends, so I just hopped in to check on you guys." I smiled, but my head was pounding. The lie felt heavy, and I could feel my heart racing like I was being chased. I didn't know if I was panicking because Joe wasn't home, or because Jia might catch me in my lie. Or maybe it was just the tequila hangover.

"I should get going. Don't wanna be late!" I blurted, before anyone could ask another question. I bolted from the kitchen, through the lawn, and straight to my house. Once inside, I collapsed on my bed, breathing heavily like I'd just run a marathon. What just happened?

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my frustration building. I grabbed my phone and shot Joe a quick message: Where are you?

No response.

I groaned, tossing my phone aside. I couldn't tell him over a text. No way. I had to see him in person. I needed to look into his eyes and say it. Everything. But of course, he wasn't answering.

Minutes dragged by, turning into hours. Still nothing.

By eight p.m., I checked my phone again. Nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I'd at least get to see him in my dreams.

Joes POV

After I was satisfied with the baking, I drove back home, took a quick shower, and threw on my best outfit. The one that screams "effortlessly stylish" but still shows I put in effort. I told Mom I was heading to Justin's again and asked him to cover for me. Normally, I tell Mom everything, but with Tina, I thought it was better to wait. It felt... too soon to let her know about what might be happening between us.

When I arrived at Tina's place, I realized one tiny detail had slipped my mind: I didn't know her apartment number. Brilliant, Joe. I shot her a message, and she responded that she hadn't returned yet. So, there I was, parked on the side, waiting like a lovesick puppy. Time passed, and with each minute, I got more restless. Where was she? Is she okay? Was I supposed to call? No, that'd be too much. But still... What if she...? Chill out, Joe. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she arrived.

I helped her inside, and once I laid her down on the bed, I couldn't help but admire how peaceful she looked. I mean, she was snoring softly, clutching a teddy bear seriously, a teddy bear and murmuring something incoherent. Her lips parted slightly, her cheeks flushed, and I thought, how is it possible for someone to look this adorable? It was like the universe was mocking me, daring me to resist kissing her. Getting under the sheets and cuddling her. Focus, Joe. This is not the time for that.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated, pulling me out of my thoughts. Of course, it would ring at the most inconvenient moment. I crept out of the room like a ninja, closing the door quietly behind me.

"Hey," I whispered into the phone, hoping not to wake her.

"Where are you, bro? We've been waiting," Eric said, sounding both annoyed and concerned. "We're supposed to be at Justin's planning tomorrow's party."

Right. The party. I had already told Justin I'd be with Tina tonight and might not make it. He assured me he had everything handled. His dad's villa, the shopping, the whole deal. But explaining that to Eric, Mr. Hothead, was another story.

"I'm really sorry, man. Tina's... well, she's pretty out of it. I'm here taking care of her," I explained, bracing for Eric's frustration.

Surprisingly, he calmed down. "No problem, bro, just don't flake tomorrow. This is our last trip together, remember?"

Phew. Crisis averted.

I hung up, then look in Tina's apartment for the first time. It was... minimalistic, to say the least. No TV. A sofa that could barely fit three people. The walls were a faded beige. Probably last painted when I was a toddler. How does she live like this? The only thing that stood out was a pink cushion on the sofa. Pink. Really? I rolled my eyes, placed the cushion under my head, and lay down. Scrolling through birthday pictures from earlier, I tried not to think about how uncomfortable this sofa was.

Eventually, sleep took over.

The next thing I knew, my alarm blared like a fire drill. I shut it off, groaning. Then I froze, realizing I wasn't in my bed. Slowly, it came back to me. Tina,. Then my stomach rumbled. I need food. Now.

I tiptoed to the kitchen. It was small, but surprisingly clean. I searched around for something to make. Eggs and flour. Pancakes, it is. I hesitated for a second, thinking, Is this weird? Using her kitchen without permission? But hunger won that debate. If I pass out from starvation, I'll never know if Tina likes me back.

As I cracked eggs into a bowl, I suddenly remembered coffee. How had I forgotten the sacred elixir of life? After a quick search, I found instant coffee. No machine in sight and an old kettle that looked like it belonged in a museum.

Midway through whisking pancake batter, I heard the unmistakable shuffle of slippers behind me. The dragging sound alone told me she was still half-asleep and completely hungover. I kept my eyes on the batter, pretending I hadn't heard her, and waited for her reaction.

Please don't be mad about the pancakes.

___________________________

"Love isn't about perfect timing. It's about courage, chaos, and the moments when your heart speaks louder than your fear."