April 2085: happy birthday, dear Ruby (spring birthdays)

*** mildly NSFW for one quick boob. When Darla wants her top off, she gets her top off, lol! ***

April, 2085. Ruby McCullough is 18 years old. 

The car was painted a shade that Ruby couldn't decide if it was supposed to be brown or green, bringing to mind things like mud, or bugs, or excrement.

"What is this color? It looks like horse shit! How can I drive this while people still have eyes!?!"


"Ruby," her mother said, calmly at first, but the tension soon building in her delicate shoulders. "It's a good car. It's nearly brand new."

"People are going to see me in this thing. There's no way. There's just no way."

"Keep taking the bus to work then," her mother spit at her, walking away, not stopping as she mumbled, "Take the bus to college for all I care."

There were four weeks left before Ruby finished high school, and then two months before she could move to campus. She was counting down the days. She got the feeling her mother was too.

"Ruby," her father said. "Why do you have to torture your mother so much?"

If their father was supposed to be the peacemaker in this family, wouldn't that make Ruby his nemesis? But Ruby found her father was the only one she could talk to sometimes. She sighed. "She's just so easy to torture."

"We're paying for your college, and we bought you a car. I know it's not the prettiest car--"

She chuckled. "By a long shot!"

"But we didn't have to do any of it. You've got to go easier on us."

"But Daddy, can I paint it at least?" She gave him a pouty lip, and a flash of her big, brown doe-eyes. "It's so ugly. You have to know that. I'm too pretty to drive an ugly car."

"I have to admit, it's not the nicest color. But, we didn't buy it for the color. We bought it because it runs well and you'll be safe in it." He glanced back at the door and then slipped her an extra two-hundred. "There's an honest shop on South Avenue, just before the bridge. They'll do good work. Tell them who your father is. And don't tell your mother the money came from me."

"Thank you, Daddy!" Ruby squealed. "Thank you so much!"

***

Ruby was eighteen years old, which meant she could finally go out (without her fake ID, that is) with her boyfriend. He could take her to all those fancy clubs that wouldn't fall for a fake ID. Her mom offered to bake a cake, but Ruby declined. She tried not to be too rude about it. It was her eighteenth birthday -- she'd spent a whole childhood worth of birthdays having cake at home. Tonight, she was going out. They'd probably enjoy her birthday cake better without her there anyway, she figured.

Kevin was taking her to a dance club in the basement of an office building in Lake City. "Sweet!" she said as her eyes adjusted to the strobing lights. "I had no idea this was even down here!"

"That's the point, doll. If everyone knew about it, it wouldn't be so rad."

The night started in the hot tub, all tongues and no bathing suits. The idea of it drove her wild!

Then some new friends.

New experiences all around.

"Happy birthday, doll. Hope you had fun tonight. I love you, you know?"

"Yeah?" she asked. He nodded, running his hand along her bare arm, and left this huge silence in their conversation where the most obvious thing would be for her to say it back. So she did. "I love you too."

It felt clumsy coming out of her mouth. She never said that to anyone. Not even her family. But if she did love anyone, she probably loved him. What harm could it do?

***

It was late when she finally came home. She flipped on lights through the dark house -- everyone had long since gone to bed. Her mom had made a birthday cake after all, and they'd eaten most of it, probably enjoying it a lot more than they would have had she been there.

So she had a slice on her own.

Happy 18th birthday, Ruby McCullough.

--- other spring birthdays ---

March:
Dale Roberts (33)
Natalia Deppiesse (20)
Ocean Michen (16)

April:
Mariah Buchanan (36)
Lily Riley-Kim (13)

May:
Micah Buchanan (36)
Tonya Jackson (2)