If Opposites Attract, Then We Were Meant to Be

A Very Sweet Sixteen

***Sam’s P.O.V. ***
Time flew by and my sixteenth birthday was fast approaching. For me it was present enough to know that Billie and Trè passed their E.O.C.s, and being able to hang out with all of my friends as the summer began.
I never had big blow-out parties, in fact it was more I didn’t want one. It usually consisted of family and a few family friends, who were all older than me. “Hey dad this year I don’t want a party or anything else okay.” I stated plainly about two weeks before my birthday.
“But Sammy, it’s your sweet sixteenth and I want cake.” He protested. Only my dad called me Sammy and I hated it, it reminded me of this kid who used to pick his nose and eat the whole apple, core and everything!
“Don’t call me Sammy,” I pleaded.
“Fine, Sam” he exaggerated my name for annoyance purposes.
“You’re such a child,” I retorted.
“Oh yeah well…” he stuck his tongue out at me. Yes that was his come back for being a child. By the way he’s thirty-five! Again I say immature much!
***Billie’s P.O.V. ***
Things were going as planned. It was really like clockwork. Sam’s dad called me confirming that she did not want a party. So I called Trè, Mike and Al making sure that they knew what to do for the surprise party! She would definitely not be expecting that.
***Sam’s P.O.V. ***
I didn’t want a party and that was final! It would just be another day that I couldn’t celebrate with my mom and brother. Seeing kids at school, back when I moved all over, getting picked up by two happy parents made me so jealous and angry. It also happened when I watched little kids being taught something by and older sibling, learning to ride a bike without training wheels, reading a book, things I learned by myself since my dad was always out recruiting because of his bum leg. I hated them for leaving me, but also myself for hating them. These feelings were things I kept inside, which my grief therapist said were a very unhealthy thing to do, but I didn’t care. I did not have that part of your brain that makes you want people to feel sorry for you, I was sure. In my head I would scream everything at everyone whilst my mouth remained mute. It really did hurt me, but I couldn’t help it, even I didn’t know why I did that. After their deaths I recoiled inside myself, I forced myself to perfect every aspect of my life, even if the consequence was excruciating pain; it helped me focus on something besides my grief. The fact was that putting myself in pain whether it is the emotional, where I would wallow in every last thing that had hurt my feelings, or physical, where I would push my limits on that last mile, the soreness a comfort in the dark. It had gotten me into some sticky situations.
***Flashback***
I followed a routine for soccer and occasionally track, run. That was really all I did to practice or warm-up. I ran every where.
One day I was coming back from a run. Where I knew I had gone a little too far and to fast. The sidewalk in front of my house spun and split as my vision blurred, throat felt like I had swallowed a jar of cotton balls. If felt myself slowly collapse, but I had one of those weird out of body experiences, because I saw myself as I fell onto the dew covered lawn. I panted rapidly and lost consciousness. I spent a total of three days in the hospital. Apparently a neighbor who was getting the paper had seen my fall and called 9-1-1. In the hospital I was treated for dehydration and a sprained wrist, which had occurred when I put my hand out to cushion my fall.
My illness put me out of several matches and meets. It also doubled my sessions with a psychiatrist, they thought I was depressed and had some kind of death wish; really I just wanted to be better; out living the perfect giant shadow of my big brother. So maybe I was mentally ill, competing with the dead, but it was important to me.
-End Flashback
***Billie’s P.O.V. ***
I hope that Sam really likes the party and the present that I got her. I just want her to know that I care on this day, I mean if it never happened I wouldn’t have ever known this smart, beautiful, and funny girl that I loved with every fiber of my being.
***Trè’s P.O.V. ***
I got Sam the best present out of all of us for sure! They don’t call me Trè Cool for nothing after all!
***Mike’s P.O.V. ***
Sam had really gotten into some cool bands after a few months of hanging out with us at Gilman Street, so I thought I would get her a few CDs from awesome bands. I got a Clash CD, Ramones, Van Halen, and a few from bands at the Gilman who recorded a few songs on independent labels and sold for real cheap after sets. I hope she’ll like them as much as I think she will.
***Sam’s P.OV. ***
My birthday had finally arrived. I sat happily as my father stomped around the house pouting about not having a cake. I opened my presents that he had given me. I got a really nice black walkman CD player, and a new leather-bound journal. I was so happy and pleased I quickly thanked him and ran up to my room to use my new gifts.
Billie, Mike, and Trè all called wishing me a happy birthday saying that they would like to bring me to Gilman Street for a birthday concert even though they would not be playing (Sweet Children and The Lookouts! that is).
We had a really great time and I was very happy I wasn’t having a party. Call me pathetic, call me what you will but it is what I want; and we did already discuss that I might be crazy. They left me at my house and I decided to clean up the clutter in our yard, not much just a few soccer balls and a tangled net. I put the junk away in the garage and walked towards my strangely dark house alone. When I entered the living room I was a bit on edge that not one light was on. I flicked a switch and screamed…
“SURPRISE!” They yelled, throwing confetti and releasing some balloons that said, Happy Sweet Sixteenth. Billie, Mike, Trè, Al and my Dad howled with laughter at my reaction.
“B-but, how, and I-I didn’t want a party…” I stuttered trying to make sense of what just happened.
“Yeah, which is why we threw you one DUH!” Trè stated rolling his eyes, as if a monkey could have figured out this backwards logic.
“Of course,” I replied sarcastically. “You guys are jerks you know that, right?” I said trying to mask the fact that they had really surprised me, bad!
“Oh ho, were jerks? Well then we should fix that with a little song shouldn’t we.” Billie laughed, pretending to be hurt. They ran out to the patio and got their instruments. Billie with his guitar, Mike on bass, Al on drums, and Trè on… an accordion! My guests played the “Happy Birthday Song”. It was all rather well rehearsed, well all except Trè of course.
“Joyeux anniversaire! Joyeux anniversaire! Joyeux anniversaire Sam…joyeux anniversaire!” Trè wailed above the rest. When they concluded my special birthday performance I hesitantly asked Trè the question that plagued everyone’s minds.
“Trè were you singing in…French?” I cocked my head and squinted my eyes curiously at him.
“Hmmm… French, French,” he muttered the song in French under his breath then began again, “Yeah I suppose I was huh?” he finished cheerfully. I sighed at his randomness. “Well anyhoo it’s gettin’ to be time for me…to give you YOUR PRESENT!” he shouted with an idiotic smile planted on his face. He thrust a crumpled envelope into my hand and sat waiting clearly anxious for me to open it. I slowly unglued the flap out of pure fear. The card slid out quickly. I grabbed it and opened it and out fell a…CONDOM! I stared in disbelief; I watched my dad out of my peripheral vision, his eyes bugged-out of his head and he began to eye Trè like a hungry predator but Trè didn’t seem to notice as he laughed. I quickly read the card, it went something like this:
Hey Sexy!
It’s your birthday (Yay!). Well I couldn’t afford anything fancy, yet but I did sorta order somethin’ and I’m picking it up in…a few weeks. I don’t feel like doing the math so, I OWE U. I’ll also throw in a free of charge drum lesson, know what I mean?!?
Love,
Trè Cool a.k.a The sexiest MAN alive!

“So what do you think,” he burst. I could tell the whole time I was reading he was practically dieing to know what I thought.
“Well um, I-I like it? Thanks Trè,” I stammered before leaning over and whispering, “The condom has triggered my dad’s silent alarm. You will now be under heavy surveillance. I myself will also be well guarded, and one more thing…sex, not gonna happen.” His face fell at my last statement, but he did seem enthusiastic about being on my dad’s radar. He hugged me and shushed Mike and Al’s continuous laughter before making a gesture I assumed meant ‘You may continue’.
Mike handed me a present wrapped in newspaper. I looked at him and he just shrugged so I proceeded to unwrap the gift. The box contained about SIX CDs! I was so happy I ran over and hugged Mike. He seemed a bit surprised but didn’t pull away.
Al passed me a lunch bag with a worn out stress ball inside. “Thanks Al, I like it” I said a bit disappointed, who wouldn’t right? Well I do count my blessings that it wasn’t used socks! I shuddered at the thought; I gave him a hug and continued.
Finally came Billie’s turn. Shyly he pushed a small box towards me. I unwrapped it delicately; the paper was so pretty I wanted to save a piece to tape to my new journal. Underneath the shiny paper was a small blue velvet case. I carefully opened it making sure it didn’t clamp on the skin of my finger. I gasped. He had given me a silver banded Promise ring, just like the one I had been talking about a few weeks back. I traced the engraved letters True Love Waits holding my breath. “D-do you like it,” Billie asked nervously.
“You were listening?” I almost whispered choking back a few tears. This ring meant so much to me.
“Yeah, I mean I’m always listening to what you have to say.” He answered.
“Billie…I love…it” I hesitated thinking about what I had wanted to say. I slid the band onto my ring finger admiring it lovingly. This tiny gift was by far my favorite out of the rest.
“Hey Sammy I’ve got one more for you!” My dad chirped while keeping his eye steadily on Trè who smiled and waved at him.
“Dad you didn’t have to. You already got me enough…”
“Ah, ah, ah, I wanted to,” he waggled a finger at me. Everyone marched out to the backyard and my dad had Billie cover my eyes with his palms. In my mind I was screaming, yes! Yes! YES!, that it was Billie not one of the others. Suddenly I heard the roar of an engine. I tried to cock my head to place where the sound was coming from.
“Now!” my father shouted. Billie dropped his hands from in front of my eyes and I blinked my jaw dropping to the ground. My dad had gotten me a 1967 Chevy Impala! (Metallicar, for those of you who watch Supernatural)
“Oh. My. God.” I whispered in amazement. The black car sat there revving up and roaring to life on the lawn the sun making it gleam. “Well I know one thing that’s going to have to change now,” I stated when I found my voice again.
“What?” Billie pondered out loud.
“I’m going to have to learn how to drive.” I laughed and everyone else joined me.