I Need To Find My Way Back To The Start

“Cara.”

“Humph.”

“Cara,” Camille persisted.

“Dude! What?”

“Let’s go to Blockbuster,” she suggested.

I furrowed my brow. “What? Blockbuster?” I shook my head no vigorously and then sighed. “Camille, let me tell you a little story that I think you’re going to like.”

“Really?”

“No. Okay, once upon a time, there was this huge, great, totally awesome company called Comcast. They had TV shows, music videos, and oh! Movies, too! It was called OnDemand. It’s freaking awesome and totally kicked Blockbuster’s butt. The end.”

“That story sucked, Cara!”

“Your mom sucked, Camille!”

“That was funny, Cara, but I’m totally not going to laugh at it! Now let me escort you to my car.”

“Bah! No! I’m not going to damn Blockbuster!”

“Fine then!” She ran her hand through her thick light golden hair, the top pieces catching the light beautifully. “We can just go to the supermarket or something. I’ll buy you your own little pint of ice cream.” Camille moved her face closer to mine and wagged her eyebrow, not so smoothly I might add. “I’ll even stick a little candle in it, too.” She then attempted to wink. The key word is attempted.

“Ugh. Don’t do that, Cam. You look like you have Down syndrome or something when you try to wink.” I let out a breath of air and slumped forward a little, then hauling myself up off the couch. “Fine,” I gave in. “But only because I really want some ice cream right now.”

Camille screeched one of her high-pitched squeals of joy before tearing my wrist from its proper and natural place, and yanking me out the door. “You won’t regret it!”

“Mhm…”

***

“Camille, we just passed a Walgreen’s,” I informed her, my forehead creasing a little as I stared at the well-lit place with longing.

She shrugged and kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road. “Yeah, I know. Walgreen’s sucks though. Everyone knows that.”

“What?” I cleared my throat once and turned to eye her suspiciously. “But Cam, we not only passed that, but we drove right by an Acme!”

“Well maybe I want to take you to an ice cream parlor now! Okay? A real ice cream place, Cara!”

I shut up from then on and slumped in the chair greatly, crossing my arms. The seatbelt was now in my face and obstructing my view. I closed my eyes. You never know when a seatbelt strap could somehow slit your eyeballs in half or something.

“Oh, I’m really stupid…” I laughed once, not bothering to open my eyes still. Camille continued. “There are no ice cream places this way! They’re all the opposite way. Wow. Dumb Camille, right?”

I lifted one eyebrow and acknowledged her strange statement with an ‘hmm.’

“Yeah. But hey! Cara! There’s an Applebee’s! You love Applebee’s, Cara!”

“Well… They do have addicting chicken tenders, and that one dessert with the hot brownie that has the syrup in the middle, and then the vanilla ice cream-”

“Yeah, yeah! I know what you’re talking about! They’re so god damn amazing,” dreamily concluded Camille.

“I know,” I agreed, a smile of ecstasy taking place upon my features. “They’re pretty much orgasmic.”

“For sure,” Camille mumbled as she started parking her car. She turned the dark brown steering wheel this way and that, trying to back up perfectly. Camille was an excellent driver, ditzy or not. I had to give her that one. “Okay, out! Now!”

I sighed and opened the door, getting out and shutting it without hitting or bumping the blue SUV next to us. I pulled my black skinny jeans up a little and made sure my pink v-neck was in place. We walked through the large, vehicle-filled parking lot, Camille’s steps having a slight bounce to them. I ran my hand along the long chain of the necklace I was wearing, my fingers fiddling with the peace sign charm and other little things along with it. I then stopped fumbling when I saw a small, somewhat familiar, blue car.

I stopped suddenly and kept my head turned to the right a bit, still staring at that little car. Camille came to an abrupt halt along with me, her eyes frantically darting to my face and then following my gaze. She stopped moving then.

“Hey, I know that car. I’ve seen it parked outside my house before,” I wondered aloud, mostly to myself. I kept staring at it even when Camille tried to obstruct my view and pull my hand along. We were only a few yards away from the door.

And then a certain someone I know walking to that same blue car came into my mind. I knew whose ride that was…

“Kennedy! Camille, that’s Kenny’s car!” I snapped out of my daze and creased my forehead; yet let Camille pull me closer and closer to the doors of Applebee’s. It was only till a nice employee came out and opened the door for us, like they always did here, that my common sense and logic finally jumpstarted.

I stopped dead in my tracks and jumped a little, startling the waitress holding the door open a bit, but not Camille. “No! No, Camille! I don’t want this! Ugh! No! Why?”

“Aw, come on, Car! It’s just the seven of us, for crying out loud! Not even Pat’s brother could show up! Come on! It’ll only be for a little while!”

“Pat’s brother has a name and he can make it,” the deep familiar voice behind us informed. I whipped around and groaned when I saw Tim before my eyes, a small smile on his face. “Come on. Let’s go, chickie-boo.” I could barely utter a word out before Tim pinned my arms and knees together and picked me up to take to a small section set off.

The section was in the corner of the restaurant, away from where most of the other customers were. There were three tables pushed up to come together, chairs sitting all around the entire thing. However, there was only one chair at one end of the table. I inwardly groaned and rolled my eyes. Anyway, the entire band was there; Kennedy, Jared, Garrett, and of course, John and Pat. All were sitting around and talking with sodas and such. However, when they saw the site before them, Tim Kirch carrying me to the tables with Camille trotting along, they all turned their heads and attention completely our way.

“Tim, what the hell?”

“I’m escorting the birthday princess to her birthday party, of course!”

“No, I see that,” Garrett replied. “But you said you couldn’t come.”

Tim set me down on my feet finally, but didn’t take the chance at letting me completely loose. He stood slightly behind me and firmly kept his large hands around my upper arms. “Yeah, I know,” he responded casually, as if he wasn’t restraining me from jetting out that place. “But that was before I knew this was happening at Applebee’s.”

“Let go,” I whined, wiggling around. Maybe if I moved around enough, Tim would get sick of holding me and he’d eventually let go.

“Shut up, Cara,” Garrett told me before taking a quick sip of his soda. “Don’t you want to celebrate your 8th birthday with us?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes at his joke, tilting my head downwards, and then slapped Tim’s arm once. He didn’t budge. I slapped his arm again, the slapping sound making me blink a couple times in a slight flinch.

He bent down so that he was at my ear. “Gonna be a good girl?” I replied by giving him an odd sort of look before pushing his face away from mine. He instantly let go.

I sighed and walked towards the end of the table where that damned empty seat was just waiting for me. I felt like it was mocking me almost. I could just picture a face on the backrest, its mouth curving into a snicker. But I reluctantly sat in it before leaning over and giving Pat a quick kiss on the cheek and a small thank-you smile.

“See? I told you that I’d talk to you later,” said Pat, a smiling playing at his lips.

I nodded and sighed. “Well… let’s light these freaking candles and stuff,” I muttered.

“No way!”

“Yeah,” Pat agreed with Kennedy. “We have to sing Happy Birthday first!”

“Hey! Hey,” John called out, turning towards the waiters and waitresses. “I think we’re ready over here!”

When I noticed a group of waitresses and two waiters hustle over here with huge grins on their happy faces, I put my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, much like I did during the ride on Kingda Ka in New Jersey.

“Good evening, Applebee’s! We have a special birthday in the house!”

“Woo!” John and Kennedy hooted.

“On the count of three, can we get a ‘happy birthday, Cara’?”

“No,” I mumbled. Pat chuckled and smiled down at me, which soon made me smile a tiny bit in surrender.

“1!”

No.

“2!”

No way.

“3!”

And cue the humiliation.

“Happy birthday, Cara!”

Ugh…