Ahou Naderpour Ardestani (11) STAFF REPORTER
When I get to Liza’s house, Eli’s mom is already there, with Eli and Liza in the car. I open the door and shuffle in awkwardly, holding on to my bag, jacket, and Eli’s gift, while pushing away the giant sac on the seat to make room for myself.
Eli looks back at me from the front seat.
“Hi!” she says. The first thing I notice is her lip gloss, pink, shiny lip gloss.
“Hello. Happy birthday!” I say back, moving my stuff around and trying to settle down; “Hi Liza. Sorry I’m late everyone.”
Eli’s mom starts to drive. I look at Liza, she’s wearing a blue dress with white stripes and a long lacy white jacket. Mascara makes her eyelashes pop and brings out her big, almond shaped eyes. Her hair, straight and shiny, looks effortlessly gorgeous. I think back to the past thirty minutes I spent before coming to Liza’s house just trying to do my hair, doing it again and again. My hair took me so long that in the end, I was scrambling to get my things in my bag, wear my shoes, and get out of the house. I wonder how much time it took Liza to get ready? Did she set everything out earlier?
On the way there I keep wondering if I’ve gotten it wrong, my hair, my bracelet, my shoes.
We get to an area that reminds me of downtown. After a while, we arrive at the restaurant. Eli’s mom drops us off at the entrance, and there we wait under the blazing sun for the lady to let us in. She tells us our table is being emptied and prepared for us. As we wait outside the restaurant, I keep looking at myself in the window, straightening my dress and fixing the straps. When Eli told us to “dress fancy”, I immediately decided to wear my long, sleek, navy striped dress. It certainly felt like the least childish and most adult-like dress I own, and I love it. But then why don’t I feel completely happy when I look at my reflection?
Up to now, I had assumed the other guests were going to be adults.
“Mina is technically an adult, and Debra’s going to grade 10.” Eli says.
Oh. One of them is around our age. How come no one told me?
“Oh, Debra’s coming? What about Melina?” Liza asks.
How does she know these people?
“No, Melina couldn’t come.”
As we wait to go inside, the two other girls arrive. I notice that everyone has high heels, and look down at my blue vans doubtfully.
“This is Debra,” Eli introduces, “She’s 15. And this is Mina, she’s 18.”
Mina looks no taller than me, and I wouldn’t have doubted if she had said she was my age too, Debra, on the other hand, I would’ve believed to be 20.
We go inside. The girls quickly start a conversation, turning their backs on me. Liza is, and always has been good at talking to new people. I, although not shy anymore, just can’t think of anything to say to the two new girls. So I focus my view on the other side.
A young blond waiter leads us to the patio, which is on the roof. Maybe it’s the enormous sun shields above our heads, but the heat does not seem to be intense anymore. We get to our table, and I am hoping to sit next to Liza, her being the only one I know other than the birthday girl, but Liza sits farther away. Debra sits in front of me, the rays of light over her short red hair and bold hazel eyes. Confidence flashes in her eyes. She looks so much older than me, while in reality, I’m a year older than her. I feel like she keeps looking at me, and when I accidentally knock off her purse I decide that she officially hates me.
We settle down and the girls start chatting away, Liza easy and adorable as always. I text Daichi, our other friend who has recently moved away. I think about what it would be like if she was here, she would be the perfect person for me to talk to, because she always was. We could spend hours singing Hamilton songs and talking about anime and dreams.
You are missed here. I text her.
They talk and laugh, I watch with a silent smile, not from a lack of confidence, but because I have nothing to add to the conversations, and their jokes do not make me laugh. But it’s not bad, it’s not bad at all. I am a quiet observer, focusing on the girls, the view, the restaurant. It’s pleasant, maybe not exciting, but pleasant and nice enough to keep the smile on my face.
I wonder though, how did Eli and Debra become friends? I know they and Mina had all met at volleyball class, but Debra just seems so different from Eli. What did they even talk about when it was just the two of them?
A lovely waitress brings us warm bread and tiny bowls of creamy, salted butter. We each take a few pieces, even Liza. While they talk, Debra and Liza, constantly have their phones on, taking selfies or texting. The waitress comes back with the “menus”, which are just barcodes on paper. She explains that by scanning them with our phones, we will have access to the menu online. Of course, I have my phone with me, but it seems kind of wrong that they would just assume everyone has a cellphone.
Everyone orders chicken strips, I scroll up and down the menu, unsure. Pizzas, burgers, hot dogs. I don’t really like fast food. I can feel the waitress waiting, everyone looking at me.
“Just get the chicken strips.” Debra finally breaks the silence. “The chicken strips are the best.”
Everyone nods.
“Ok. Chicken strips then.” I look at the waitress.
“Great! Any drinks for you girls?”
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“Chocolate milk?! With chicken?” I ask in surprise. There’s lots of strange-sounding food combinations in my culture, but MILK with a savory meal…?
“Come on, try it!” Mina cheers.
I roll my eyes at the thought of this weird meal. “Ok.”
After a while, the same waitress comes back with our orders.
She sets identical plates in front of each of us. Crispy chicken strips, french fries, and a small black ramekin filled with…something.
“What’s this?” I ask, pointing at the goopy purplish stuff in the ramekin.
“Plum sauce,” Liza answers in an obvious tone.
A sauce made from plums. Is it a Canadian thing?
“Do I pour it over my food or just eat it separately…?”
“No.” Liza laughs. “You dip things into it.” She demonstrates with a fry.
I take a chicken strip and carefully dip it in.
“Eat it!” Eli laughs.
I take a bite.
“So?” Mina watches me chew slowly.
“It’s… sweet.” Everyone is silent. I smile. “In a good way.”
They laugh.
“See, I’ve been to every restaurant in this area, because my house is actually, like, a couple streets away. I can tell you the best thing to order at any place you go to.” Debra says.
“I’ll make sure to call you if I come back to this area then.” I smile.
I end up dipping every last piece of chicken and fry into that sweet, delicious sauce; and big sips of chocolate milk between bites actually feel satisfying, to my surprise. We call the waitress over and all ask for refills. My mom will never believe I had chocolate milk with chicken.
As we finish our meal, Eli growns: “I can feel my dress getting tighter and tighter.”
We all laugh, but then cringe because we’re so full it hurts to laugh.
The waitress comes back once we’re done, with a smile on her face and a new plate in her hands.
“We know it’s someone’s birthday today!” she chirps cheerfully, setting the plate in front of Eli.
We all look at the giant slice of cake. A thick layer of chocolate ice cream on top of a thinner brownie, drizzled with melted chocolate. Eli pushes a candle into the cake and we take pictures fast, because the cake is starting to melt.
Eli pushes the plate to the centre of the table. “Go ahead guys! We’ll eat it together.”
Somehow we find room to finish that gigantic slice.
I smile as we pack our things and step out into the night, a cool breeze taking us in. Debra and Mina seem like good friends. I’m happy I met them.
While we wait for Eli’s mom, Eli puts a song on her phone. I don’t know the song, but the lyrics are easy. We all dance and sing along.
