Celeste
“What is so special about my twentieth birthday?”
I’ve tried to work it out before. There are some birthdays that are important. Your sweet sixteen, becoming an adult at eighteen, being able to drink at twenty-one.
But twenty? What was so significant? I felt like I was going crazy from my inability to understand.
My confusion only ran deeper as I continued to stare at Jack, watching his entire face run white as his lips pressed into a thin line. It was as if a monster had suddenly appeared behind me, or as though I’d turned into one myself.
“Jack?” I asked. “What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing,” Jack stated, but he was still as white as a sheet and there was a distracted look in his eyes.
Immediately, my brow furrowed. “You’re lying,” I state
