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"Happy birthday dear Ponyboy— happy birthday to you!"
I took a deep breath before blowing out the slightly messily placed candles on the cake, the frosting dripping over the sponge cake far too much. There was a few pats on my back and shoulders that were a little harsh after. I tentatively smiled and looked up at Darry whose eyes were a bit watery.
I am sixteen.
It's been two years since my parents died, two since Johnny and Dally went too, honestly I thought I'd never see this day. I'm Johnny’s age.
Soda ruffled my hair and patted me on the back once more. "How's't feel to be grown up now? Ain't a baby to us no more!"
I looked at him and shrugged. "Wasn't really ever a baby, I've always been grown." Soda grinned at that response and shook his head. Him and Darry still remember the kid who would sit in the kitchen after scraping his knees on the cement, waiting for mom.
I am not that kid anymore.
"Happy birthday, Pony," Darry said quietly. He sounded tired.
"Thanks, Dar— Soda! Birthday guy gets the first bite!" I exclaimed when Soda picked up a fork. He didn't listen, and took a piece from the cake and tried to stuff it in my mouth. I laughed out of surprise, yet took the cake off the fork anyways, taking the fork soon after.
The door swung open and slammed shut. My hair was ruffled and I squeezed my eyes shut out of annoyance. "Happy birthday, horsey!" Two-Bit exclaimed. I muttered a thanks as I opened my eyes and saw him move around the table, patting Darry on the back harshly.
Steve apparently came with him, because he was soon beside Soda. "You feel older, Pone?"
I silently shook my head, taking another bite of the cake as Darry hollered at Two-Bit to not get drunk. I stared at the dripping frosting as I chewed, trying not to tap the plate with my fork. "No. I feel more tired, though."
Soda laughed and walked past me to get more plates. "Lighten up! C'mon, you're the birthday boy! Be happy, you get to do a lot more— like drink!" I grimaced. I still remember the first time I drank. It was disgusting, how the liquid had burned my throat and made me want to throw up. Dally had given me a sip of some sort of drink.
"Hey— no, no he doesn't. We don't need another Keith," Darry instantly corrected. My frown disappeared as I took another bite of cake, watching silently as a tiny sliver was taken so Soda could have some. I felt my eyes water a little for no reason.
Birthdays have been a little hard for me since the deaths. My first birthday without mom and dad was the worst, I had sat curled up in my room in the corner until I was forced to go to bed. I was fourteen then. My first birthday without Johnny and Dally was when I was fifteen, and that was my least favorite. I had a slight breakdown during the day because everything felt like it was squeezing me into a box, everything felt painful, everything reminded me that both of them weren't there. I still remember the sunset from that night, when I sat on the porch. I had wrapped myself in a blanket and cried for a bit. Sometimes I need to cry, I try not to because it ruins my persona sometimes. I'm tough, believe me, but sometimes I'm a kid who has to curl around his pillow and clutch his mom's necklace and cry for a little while.
A hand brought me back to reality. It was ruffling my hair. Two-Bit was talking about how I've grown up and gotten my nose out of books. I noticed a piece of cake about to drop onto my lap from the fork and swore under my breath, putting my fork back on the plate. Soda gasped when he heard that I swore and he soon got hit in the chest by Steve. Steve told him I was allowed to swear since it was my birthday.
It's my sixteenth birthday.
I'm sixteen.
I guess I've lived this long.
That night, I sat out on the porch and stared at the night sky. The stars were sparkly today, I was glad to see them tonight. The weather has been bipolar. I cried for a little while, silently, whilst outside. Soda came out when I was done crying to tell me to get back inside and ready for bed. I reluctantly agreed, though I wanted to sit outside for a little longer and hug myself. Sometimes I hug myself when I don't want other people to.
Happy birthday to me.