Unravel

15—NAOMI DAY

8 years ago

“I can’t believe I’m letting a child light a match.”

I concentrated on the rocket. “I’m twelve years old, Lachlan. I’m not a child.”

He snorted. “Just hurry up before you catch something on fire.”

At that, I blew out the match in his hand and grinned.

“Don’t do that.” He dug inside his pocket and pulled out another matchstick. “I only have a few left.”

Today was July 19. My birthday. It took me two years but I was finally going to have fireworks. I couldn’t stop moving around. I was so excited. I reached out and tried to catch a lightning bug for the eighth time and failed. Lachlan sighed and within seconds, caught one. Cupping it between his hands, he transferred it to my waiting palms. He handed it over like a big brother would. In a brisk gesture that said, “Here. I just did it for you so you would stop trying.”

“Where is all this energy coming from?” he asked.

“I’m just excited to see all the bright colors!” I smiled. “I think this is the best birthday present ever,” I confessed.

“How did your family celebrate your big day?”

“We had cake and presents.”

“That’s it?” Lachlan frowned. “No birthday party? No sleepovers? Don’t girls do all that crap?”

“Not all girls do that crap,” I said and changed the subject. “Can we light the fireworks now?”

“Man, you’re impatient,” he teased and handed me the match.

It took me three times to light the match. My fingers shook as I put the flame against the fuse. Seconds later there was a hissing sound and sparks. We sprinted away and turned in time to watch the sky light up.

For the next fifteen minutes we let off as many fireworks as we could. I stared in awe the whole time.

I wanted to light up more but Lachlan said no. “We better stop before we get in trouble.” He slid the matches back into his pocket. “Happy Birthday, kid,” he said, before he turned and walked away.

“Hey, come back!” I shouted.

“Kidddd,” he drew out. But he came back to me. “What?”

“You can’t leave.”

He looked down at his watch. “I got a date in fifteen minutes.”

A year ago Lachlan got his driver’s license. His parents had a shiny black car waiting for him in the driveway. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. I hated it.

And here he was, getting ready to leave again. Anger flared inside of me.

“With who?” I asked.

“With a senior.”

I crossed my arms. “With who?”

“Laura Kline. Do you know her? Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

I didn’t know Laura Kline, but I already knew I disliked her.

“Well, you can’t leave,” I said, matter of fact.

He frowned, but there was still that mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I’m waiting for the reason why. Why can’t I leave?”

“I have no one else to celebrate my birthday with!” I exclaimed. It came out like a whine.

“What about Lana?”

Lana was my best friend. Her dad worked with my dad. One day, a week after my tenth birthday, she came along with her dad. Instead of coming inside, she sat on the porch steps, staring at the ground. I sat next to her and happily introduced myself. She stared at me in a mixture of shock and curiosity. I talked her ear off and she sat and listened the whole time. By the end of the day, she slowly started to thaw. I saw her kind spirit and knew she would be my friend.

That was two years ago. We’ve been best friends ever since.

“She’s not here,” I said.

“Okay… don’t you have any other friends?”

“No.”

He frowned. “No one else?”

I looked away. “Just you.”

“You need more than just me, kid.”

“Or I could just have you and Lana. That’s way better than a lot of friends. It’s simple math, really.”

“How do you figure?”

“My grandma has always told me that she would rather have four quarters worth of friends than a hundred pennies worth of friends.”

“You’re still missing two other quarters.”

“Nah. You two are enough.”

Lachlan grinned. “Who can argue with that?”

He looked back down at his watch then at his car sitting in the driveway and let free a heavy sigh. “We have one more rocket left. Wanna light up the sky?”

My eyes widened and I nodded anxiously.

We kneeled back on the ground. I scratched at a mosquito bite on my leg as Lachlan prepared the last rocket. He lit a match. When it shot up into the sky, I craned my neck and watched the show. He stood next to me. Not once did he take his phone out and look at the time. We were both too caught up in the grand display. It wasn’t bigger or brighter than any of the other fireworks. But it felt like it.

“Happy Birthday,” Lachlan said. “Make a wish.”

I made a wish that every July 19 would be like this. With bright lights and smiles and laughter.

I wished for Lachlan to be by my side for the rest of my life.