Page 82 of Plain Sight

Gabriel: get in the car we’re all down here

Gabriel: it’s my birthday prick

Jameson: Happy birthday to you

Jameson: Happy birthday to you

Gabriel: Put some clothes on and get your ass down here

Jameson: ok loverboy calm your tits

Gabriel sends me a string of aggressive emojis.

Lily and I play our shower race game, where we try to shower in under three minutes without fucking each other.

We lose.

Fifteen minutes later, clothed and with Snowball and his traveling cage in tow, we leave Mason’s apartment.

“I guess it was suspiciously empty,” Lily says in the elevator.

“The workday ended a while ago, but there was no way I was going to notice.”

It’s not the car waiting for us in the parking garage but two SUVs, since all of us don’t really fit in one vehicle anymore with Nate and Lydia and Robin’s car seat and how everyone’s married or engaged but Remy. I get in the front seat of Mason’s SUV. Lily climbs in the back with Sunshine and Robin. Nate flips me off from Gabriel’s car. I fake-cry at him.

“Excited about your wedding present?” Mason asks as he backs out of the spot.

“What? On Gabriel’s birthday?”

“Yeah.” He gives a beleaguered sigh. “Listen. I thought it was time you got your own place.”

I slap a hand to my chest. “What do you mean, my own place? How am I supposed to find you and tell you about my dreams?”

“You haven’t had one of those in almost a month,” he points out.

“Oh.” I drop my hand. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I was keeping track.” He cuts a Protective Dad glance at me. Robin grizzles in the backseat, and Mason’s eyes snap to the rearview mirror.

“Another level of Protective Dad Mode attained,” I whisper.

“You’re evicted.”

“And you’re throwing a party?”

“The party is for Gabriel. I just wanted you to know.”

I tease him about the eviction while we drive. I can’t tell if it’s a joke or not. Big if true.

I’m so busy pretending to be distraught about the eviction and bothering Mason that I don’t pay attention to where we’re going.

But then one of the turns is familiar.

The next one is even more familiar.

“What the fuck?” I look again, just to be sure. “Are we having a birthday party at the cemetery?”

“No,” Mason says.