Happy Birthday to Me Again (Birthday Trilogy, Book 2) (22 page)

Aaron shook his head. “That’s not the
issue, Cam. The issue here is that you look like you’re ten years old.”

“No, actually,
today I’m eleven,” I said, correcting him.

He brought his hands to his cheeks, completely
flabbergasted. “Oh, you’re eleven! OK… uhh…
right
.”

I surveyed the
room. “I can’t believe you brought me here—”

 
“Cam, you need a doctor!” Aaron shouted.
He reached for me. I jumped back.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” I said. “You know what? It’s
Saturday night. I’ve had a really shitty week. I’m not exactly in the mood to
go to a doctor, Aaron.”

Matt laughed.
“It’s so funny to hear the word ‘shit’ come out of a little kid.”

I punched him at the bottom of his elbow,
which was about the furthest up I could reach, but he didn’t even notice.

“What, are you joking?” Aaron asked.
“Come on. You’re coming with me.” He grabbed me by the arm. Again, in my
physical state, I had no way to fight back. Everybody in this room, except for
maybe the fattened Ryan, was far too intimidating a physical force for little
old me to take on by myself.

“No! Aaron! Stop
it!”

“I’m taking you to the emergency room,”
Aaron said. “You can’t let this happen again! You need help!”

“Please!
No!”

“Hey!”
a voice shouted behind me. “Aaron! Let him go!”

Aaron turned
around as Ryan rushed over to us.

“What?” Aaron
asked.

“Do what the man says. If Cameron doesn’t
want to go, he shouldn’t have to go. This is his night, after all!”

“What do you suggest, Ryan? Load him up?
Lap dances? Just look at him! He’s sick! He’s eleven years old!”

“We will do whatever Cameron wants!” Ryan
shouted. “I gave this guy so much shit last year when he was turning into the
world’s oldest man. It’s time, for one night, that we all just let Cameron be
himself.”

Aaron shook his head. He looked sicker
than I did, his head convulsing at such a speed I thought it might explode.
“That is bullshit, Ryan! This is ridiculous—”

I found a moment to escape from Aaron’s
grasp, and I took it. I ran up to Ryan and jumped behind him.
 

“Thanks, man,” I
said.

“It’s good to see you, Cam,” he said,
shaking my hand, “even if you do look like a dweebie fourth grader.”

I shook my head.
“Some things never change.”

“Fine!” Aaron shouted. “You guys enjoy yourself.
But I can’t stay and watch this train wreck. Cameron needs help, but if he
wants to stay, so be it. Not me. I don’t even want to be here, anyway. I’ll go
find a
bachelorette
party somewhere.
I’ll have more fun!”

I felt bad about Aaron, but as I watched
him storm out of the strip club with an uncontrollable temper I’d never seen on
the gay and attractive African American, I knew that I
needed
this night.

I turned to the dozen or more guys in
front of me, more upbeat now than I’d ever been in the last tumultuous week.
“So, I know I may look a little young to you guys. But trust me, I’ve had my
share of wild nights, and I know how to hold my own. And plus, I’m getting
married in two weeks!”

Everyone started cheering, probably not
so much because they wanted to party with an eleven-year-old, but so they could
get past the emotional drama of the last few minutes and just get their drink
on.

“Who’s ready to party?” I shouted, my
voice so high that any passers-by outside probably assumed a children’s birthday
party was taking place inside.

No birthday parties here. Thank God.

“You want a lap dance?” Ryan asked,
motioning for the two strippers to come back over to the center of the room.

“Absolutely,” I
said. “But I’m gonna want a beer first.”

“Can I see an
ID?” Ryan asked, laughing.

“Sorry. Left it
at home.”

I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew I
should’ve made a run for it as soon as I got free from Aaron. I didn’t have
time to have fun. Fun was something long since gone in my life, after Liesel
disappeared, after receiving threats, and after I started de-aging from
eighteen to zero. At the same time, though, enjoying myself for a few hours was
probably more beneficial to my health than running around Reno trying to find
another clue, or traipsing around a hospital talking to doctors who wouldn’t
have a clue about my condition.

I needed this. I
didn’t care anymore. Tomorrow, I would continue the quest.

Tonight, I was
going to have some fun.

“Where’s my
beer?” I shouted.

Ryan tossed me a
Corona. I downed the whole thing in ten seconds.

When the lap
dance began three minutes later, I found myself in Heaven.

I was the
luckiest eleven-year-old in the entire world.

---

Let’s just say I couldn’t really hold my liquor
that night. When the manager of the strip club threw us out thirty minutes into
the lap dancing, two strippers alternating, all of my guy friends cheering, I
found myself performing somersaults on the sidewalk. I threw up a whopping
seven times, mainly because my miniscule body couldn’t keep in this kind of
excitement, not to mention, all the alcohol.

But I was
determined to keep the night going.

Most of the guys followed me across the
street to Silver Mine Casino, where I walked up and down the slot machine
aisles a pathetic, slobbering mess.

“You know, you might get in trouble if
you try to play, Cam,” Ryan said. He was definitely the guy keeping the closest
eye on me.

“What are they gonna do, Ryan? Arrest me?
I’m just a kid!” I laughed and started heading over toward the big, fancy
dollar machines.

A cocktail waitress moseyed on over to
us. She had messy black hair and was chewing gum ferociously. “Can I get you
boys anything?”

“I’ll take a
vodka tonic,” I said.

She smiled.
“You’re cute.” She looked up over me. “Are any of you boys twenty-one?”

“
I’m
twenty-one,” I said.

“Really?”

“Mmm hmm. My
birthday’s
today
actually.”

“Well happy
birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re still
not getting a drink, kid.” She laughed and started walking past me.

“What about a Shirley Temple, with some
vodka mixed in?” I asked. She didn’t answer me; she just kept walking.

I made my way up to the dollar machines.
There were at least twenty of them. I watched as Ryan ordered a few drinks from
a different cocktail waitress and handed me a Budweiser. I downed half of it in
two big gulps.

“Which one should I play?” I asked the
guys. They all looked on, grinning, knowing that I was seconds away from
getting thrown out of the establishment.

“Don’t play the one in front of you,” a
gruff male voice said at the chair next to me. “That one just ate a hundred of
my hard-earned dollars.”

Oh my God,
I thought.
Is that who I think it is?

“Welch?” Ryan
asked behind me.

The bald-headed giant stood up and looked
out at all of us with a mystified expression. His head was so bald now that it
was literally shining a bright light in my face. “Ryan? Matt? Oh my God!”

He brushed past
me and hugged Matt and Ryan.
  

“How are you
guys? It’s so great to see you!”

“How’s the new
season going?” Ryan asked.

“We’re doing great! It’s been hard
without all of you, but we’ve got a good shot at State again.” He crossed his
arms and squinted his eyes in suspicion. “Aren’t you guys a little
young
to be gambling? Last I heard, you
had to be twenty-one.”

“It’s nothing big, Coach,” Ryan
continued. “We’re just blowing off some steam and celebrating Cameron’s
upcoming wedding.”

“Martin’s getting
married
?”

“Yeah! We just
had his bachelor party over at The Spice House.”

I chuckled.
So that’s what that dirty place is called.

“You showed him
one last good night, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s been
having tons of fun.”

“That’s good. That’s insane! He’s getting
married? At
eighteen
? I got married
at twenty-four, and that was about twenty decades too early!”

Most of the boys
laughed, and Welch slapped his hands together.

“So where is the
little blackmailer? I hope he hasn’t started aging again, has he?”

“Well…” Ryan
started.

“Where is he? Is
he here?”

Most of the boys
pointed at me, behind Welch. I barely came up to his butt crack.

Welch turned
around. “Where?”

“Down there,”
Ryan said.

Welch looked down, and I waved up to him.
“Hi Coach,” I said in my high voice, obnoxiously higher due to my intoxication.

“Whoa!” he screamed, jumping back and
tripping over a cocktail waitress. He fell backward and smashed his head
against one of the dollar machines.

“Coach!” Ryan
shouted. “Are you all right?”

“Martin…” he
said, slurring his speech. “He’s… he’s just a
kid
…”

“I’m all right,
Coach,” I said, taking a step forward. “It’s not what you think!”

“Get him away from me!” he shouted,
awkwardly standing up. “The kid’s a freak!”
 

“Psh,” I said, taking another swig of my
beer. “A freak who won you the freaking state championship last year!”

Welch didn’t respond. Instead, he sped
away, not saying good-bye to me or any of the other players. Ryan helped the
cocktail waitress up. This one had long red hair and reminded me of Liesel.

Liesel.

I momentarily resorted back to my worried
self, but I shook the bad thoughts away. I needed this escape, just for this
one night.

I turned to my right to see a dollar
machine calling my name. I pulled out my wallet to find a single
one-dollar-bill sitting toward the back of it. I pulled it out and took a step
forward.

“Is everything
all right over here?” I heard an unfamiliar older male ask the waitress.

“Stop that kid!”
she said. “He’s trying to gamble!”

Uh oh. Better make this quick.

Ryan shouted
first. “Cameron! Don’t!”

And then I heard
the older man shout, “Don’t do it, kid!”

I took one more swig of beer, and one more
step toward the machine. I let the machine eat the dollar.

“Don’t!”

“Stop!”

I reached out to pull down the handle,
but before I could, an overwhelming dizziness took hold of me, one that I
couldn’t control.

“I feel…” I
said. “I feel funny…”

I pulled the handle and fell to the
ground, smashing my head against the side of a chair. The last thing I heard
before going unconscious was the loud
ding-ding-ding
of the dollar machine echoing through the loud casino.
   

9.
Ten

I threw up, twice, before opening my
eyes. The sky looked cloudy above me, and I turned to my right to see a long
row of trees.

I sat up and surveyed my surroundings. It
was the following morning, I figured. I could see that I was in the back of the
Silver Mine Casino parking lot. I had been dumped, probably by Ryan, or by the
mean old security team.

At
least they dumped me on some grass, and not the hard pavement,
I thought.
Could be worse!

I turned to my left to see a car parked
close to me, and I could see my reflection on the shiny side of it. It was
subtle, but I could tell I was even younger, mainly judging by my shorter
hairline.

I licked my
teeth. “Oh God,” I said aloud. “Can’t be.”

I had endured braces for a brief amount
of time in the fifth grade to straighten my teeth, particularly the front four
on the top and bottom. Worst of all, I had a big gap between my front two teeth
that had brought me unnecessary ridicule for much of my elementary school life.

“Beaver!” they
had shouted at me. “Chipmunk!”

Now here I was, licking my upper teeth
again to feel that big, empty space at the front of my mouth. “Shit,” was all I
really had to say about that.

I stood up and rested my hands at my
side. I looked out at the parking lot, feeling, again, like somebody was
watching me.

“Rough night?”
someone asked behind me.

I didn’t jump or
scream. Instead, surprisingly, the voice didn’t scare me.