She shook her dark head and her eyes glittered at me with excitement. “No I’m going to take you to Lucille’s and then I have the best birthday day planned for you in the history of birthdays.” I loved Lucille’s. It was a popular Cajun restaurant in Washington Park and probably one of the few places outside of New Orleans where you could find an honest to god beignet.

“Yay sounds good. What’s on the docket?”

“First we’re going shopping.” I made a face because I hated shopping. I lived in a ridiculous uniform for work and expensive, name brand clothes that my parents insisted I wear because I was supposed to be dressing for the job I wanted and not the job I had and doctors of any sort apparently didn’t walk around in jeans and t-shirts even when they were off the clock. Seeing my face she grinned evilly. “No we aren’t going rich girl shopping, we’re going normal every day college girl shopping. We’re going to the mall, we’re going to my favorite thrift store, we’re going to that cool vintage store on Pearl Street and you my friend, you are not allowed to spend more than fifty bucks on any one thing so there will be no two hundred dollar heels, no five hundred dollar cashmere sweater sets, no perfectly tailored slacks that are hand stitched by blind monks in the Andes or whatever. We’re just going to be two normal friends spending a day blowing our tips on useless crap.”

Oh that sounded like fun and something I never got a chance to do. “And then,” her whiskey tinted eyes widened dramatically. “We’re going to the salon and getting our hair done and mani-pedis. One of the girls in my inorganic chemistry class has this great hair, she looks like rainbow bright, she swears by this place. So we’re going to get all pretty, put on our new, normal girl clothes and go have dinner at that Brazilian place we’ve both been dying to try.”

It sounded awesome all of it sounded awesome. I was about to launch myself at her in a huge hug of gratitude when she held up a hand. “I’m not done.” She disappeared into her room for a minute and came back out with a card in a pink envelope. “The you are going to take this very cool, very necessary birthday present I got you and come out with me and I don’t mean out to Dave and Busters or Old Chicago’s, I mean out, out and I will cram a good time down your pretty little throat if it freaking kills me.”

I opened the card with mild trepidation. I didn’t know what she meant by out, out. Inside the card was a shiny wrapped present that at first glance looked like a credit card. After I read her sweet birthday wishes I carefully pulled the paper off and gasped when I saw what was looking back up at me. “Ayd I can’t use this.”

The Id had my face on it, my birthday only one year older and looked exactly like a Colorado driver’s license. In fact it looked so much like the one in my wallet there was hardly any difference.

“Oh yes you can. You’ve spent twenty years being everybody’s good little girl, and I’m sick of you killing yourself over it. Most girls your age go out, sneak into clubs, kiss boys, have sloppy one night stands, get into ridiculous, drama filled fights with their girlfriends, Shaw you don’t do any of that. Tonight you are taking that Id and coming out with me and acting like every other idiot twenty year old I know. We’re going to drink too much, act silly and have fun, you deserve it. I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile or laugh. You’re letting your soul wither away trying to be someone you’re just not and I can’t stand by and watch it happen anymore.”

“I turn twenty one next year.” I’m not sure why I thought that was a valid argument to all her more than accurate points, but for some reason it’s what popped out of my mouth.

She shook her dark head. “Who cares? You’re twenty today and you’re living like you’re fifty.” It stung because on the last trip to Brookside Rule had said pretty much the same thing. With a sigh I remembered my resignation last night to just turn myself over to Ayden’s plan, to for once just let go. I tucked some hair behind my ears and squared my shoulders.

“Okay.”

Ayden looked up under raised eyebrows. “Okay?”

“Yep. Let’s do this. Let the birthday fun and debauchery commence.” She squealed loud enough to make my ears hurt and rushed around the table to wrap me up in a hug that squeezed the life out of me.

“Trust me Shaw, you will never forget today.” She was right because by the end of the night this birthday would prove to be life changing.

Breakfast was amazing and we stuffed ourselves so full of fried goodness that by the time we hit the mall I needed to do a few laps just to keep moving. I tried on a million pairs of jeans and ended up buying quite a few. I grabbed a pair of Chuck Taylors that I always wanted but was never allowed to have and stocked up on boring old t-shirts and tank tops. At the thrift store I scooped up an awesome old school leather jacket and a couple western style shirts with pearl buttons that I knew would look awesome with my new skinny jeans. At the vintage store I went a little crazier because I just fell in love with all the fifties and sixties style dresses. I looked like a character out of Mad Men in a few of them and like Bettie Page minus the height in a couple more. I bought a pair of heels that were peacock blue and had sequined feathers on the side and a sweet pill box hat that I probably would never wear but adored. More importantly I laughed with Ayden for hours while we tried thing after thing on and felt like a giant weight was off my chest. It was fun, plain and simple and the fact I forgot what that felt like was just sad.

At the salon I got a hot pink mani-pedi and just for kicks had them add little black stars. It was cool and totally against the normal pale and pearly colors I went for. The lady doing it had bright green dread-locks and a tattoo across her forehead so I was thrilled when she grinned at me and told me she approved. Everyone that worked at this salon had a cool, rock and roll kind of vibe and while I normally would have felt out of place and reserved, they were all so nice and friendly that it was impossible to do anything but relax and have a good time. The guy in charge of my hair was a big, obviously gay, African American dressed head to toe in leopard print. His shiny bald head had a big tattoo of an eye on the back and his shoes probably cost more than mine, but he was sweet and told me my hair was gorgeous and suggested I just put some layers in it to give it body and life. I was all on board and even asked if he could do something new with the color. My hair was so pale I normally avoided dying it simply because it went too far in the extreme. His dark eyes gleamed in excitement when I asked for something kicky but still respectable, what I got was my normally ash blond with a shadow of chestnut brown underneath. It was awesome, different but understated enough not to be alarming. My favorite part was that he had bisected my super straight bangs in half and added the darker color to one side. It was trendy and hip and so different from what my hair normally looked like I hugged him hard in glee on my way out. He hugged me back more than likely because I tipped enough to take a weekend trip on, but who cared, I looked awesome.

We ran back to the house to get dolled up for dinner. I put on one of my new outfits, a super tight pencil skirt and a sheer blue top with a black cami underneath. I curled up my new hair, put on more makeup than I normally wore and decided just for the hell of it I would wear my awesome black boots. They looked like something a Harley Davidson model would wear, but I loved them and they gave my look a certain edge that I was feeling after a day of letting the real Shaw off her perpetual leash. Ayden put on a slinky red number that made her long legs look endless and set against her dark hair had our waiter at the restaurant practically drooling into our water every time he stopped by to refill our glasses. She made me try out my new Id by ordering a drink, it worked like a charm and before I knew it we were both feeling no pain and having a great time bouncing from bar to bar and club to club in LoDo and even after a few hours making our way back up towards Capitol Hill and some of cool dive bars up there. I was surprised that I didn’t even need to show the fake Id at most places, turns out a tight skirt and exposed breasts work just as well.

I was laughing hysterically at Ayden doing some impression of a guy failing around on the dance floor, we had drawn our fair amount of attention everywhere we went tonight and had had to pay for very few drinks. At the moment a guy from CU Boulder was trying to tell me all about his illustrious football career or rather he was telling my boobs about it since I don’t think he had looked up from the girls once. Ayden was rolling her eyes and trying to avoid some guy in a banker suit that was offering to do her taxes for free if she gave him her number. It was silly and fun, I didn’t have to work hard at the flirting or being charming. I was well past my way to being wasted so conversation was out. All I had to do was smile and sit prettily on the bar stool, two things I was apparently really getting good at. Another Cosmo that I definitely didn’t need appeared before me and Mr. Football was leaning even closer to me when some sixth sense, maybe it was my fight or flight response suddenly kicked into over drive.

I lifted my head up and swiveled around on the stool practically kneecapping the leering football player. I looked around, craning my neck to see what had my skin suddenly feeling too tight but all I saw was the regular bar crowd mixing and mingling. Football player was trying to get my attention back by running a finger up and down my bare arm, I guess it was supposed to be sexy, but now I was drunk and unnerved so I wanted to go. I wanted to tell him to get lost so I could find Ayden and get someone to call us a cab but before I could any of those things a warm hand slid under the heavy fall of my hair to settle on my neck and a deep voice growled in my ear, “How in the fuck did you get in here, Casper?”

Football player’s eyes went huge because well, Rule was Rule. Gone was the dark hair spiked up in a crazy mess, now he had it all shaved on the sides and bleached out into a startling white mohawk that was several inches tall. He had on a tight black shirt with a flaming skull in a Viking helmet on it and a pair of black jeans that had a hole in the knee. Both his full sleeves of tattoos were on optimum display, so was the chain he wore from his wallet to his belt as were his heavy black motorcycle boots. He should look sloppy and unkempt next to the V-neck sweater wearing footballer, but he didn’t. He looked hot and rumpled and clearly not to be messed with because footballer pushed away from the table in a hurry and vanished into the crowd.

“And what did you do to your hair?”

I was drunk, admittedly probably not the best state to try and go toe to toe with Rule in after getting a two week break from him, but I liked my hair and he wasn’t going to rain on all my birthday vibes, especially since he clearly didn’t even know what the day was. I shook his grip loose and sucked back the tart drink in one swallow.

“What are you doing here?”

He lifted an eyebrow at me and took up the same spot football player had vacated, looking down my low cut top and all. “This bar is right around the corner from the shop. Nash and I stop by all the time after work. I just finished a client. I know they Id at the door, how did you get in?”