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NOT A FAN OF BIRTHDAYS
RUBY JUNE. I kept twisting and turning in bed, desperately hoping the ringing would stop. But it didn’t. Groaning, I stretched out to grab my phone and practically yelled at the caller. “Why the hell are you calling this early?” I half-screamed into the phone. “This is past two in the afternoon,” Doreen replied in her usual calm and collected tone. “It still feels like morning to me,” I grumbled, dropping the phone beside me. “I’m going back to bed.” “You might want to rethink that decision. Do you know what day it is?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement. “Ugh… Sleep, O’clock,” I muttered, pulling the covers over my head. “It’s your mom’s birthday,” she deadpanned. “According to the plan, you are supposed to be there in thirty minutes.” I shot up from the bed in a panic. s
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