Page 119 of Run to Me

He drapes an arm over the back of my seat. “You don’t realize this, but every person waiting inside that house thinks the world of you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I observe. I’ve seen it. If you weren’t special to them, they wouldn’t be here.”

“They could just send me a birthday text,” I grumble.

“Maisy.” He sighs my name, like he always does when my stubbornness exasperates him. “We want to celebrate you. Let us.”

Growing up, my summer birthday came and went during one of Logan’s football camps, so I never got to have a party with friends. After moving to California, my birthdays passed during Tatum’s tour season. If anything, we had a quick celebratory dinner when my friends could trick me into it. I’ve only celebrated one birthday with Graham and Miguel, so I guess it won’t be too bad to spend another one with them.

“Fine. But I’m not giving a speech or anything. And if anyone starts singing to me, I’m leaving.”

“Deal. Let’s go,” he says.

Before we step onto the porch, he stops and produces a hibiscus flower, which he sticks behind my ear.

“What’s with the flower?” I ask.

“It matches your dress.”

The dress he suggested I wear has a bright, tropical pattern, spaghetti straps, and a flowing skirt that reaches my knees. My mind flashes to Graham’s floral shirt and Miguel’s ascot from earlier, and I know for certain I’ve been bamboozled. They kept me occupied while everyone else plotted behind my back.

Jensen says, “Tatum’s been so excited about surprising you. Just play along, okay?”

“This is the opposite of loving me, you know.”

“You’ll have a good time. I promise.”

I sigh and wave a hand toward the house. “Let’s get this over with.”

When he opens the door, urging me to enter the dark house first, Tatum whispers, “One, two, three.”

Everyone yells, “Surprise!” Then the room falls silent because, apparently, they didn’t assign anyone the job of turning on the lights.

Jensen flips a switch, flooding the kitchen with enough bright light to make everyone shrink away.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, shocked by the number of people in the kitchen and the tropical decorations everywhere.

Giant flowers and loads of streamers hang from the ceiling. Every flat surface has some kind of island-themed decoration. Big jars of sand. Conch shells. Colorful umbrellas sticking out of coconuts. And all the partygoers are dressed like we’re at a beach resort. The California crew consists of Marcus, Judge, Graham, and Miguel. The Walford bunch includes Rock, Lucy, Jake, Tatum, Brody, Pam. All my loved ones are here, plus…

“Menchy?” I ask, the surprise obvious in my high-pitched voice when he steps forward.

“Happy birthday, Maisy,” he says with a sheepish grin that garners more than a few surprised reactions. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited myself.”

“Of course not,” I say, wondering why he would do such a thing.

“Hug me!” Tatum yells. She wraps herself around me and whispers in my ear, “Why is Menchy here? And why is he smiling?”

“I’m so confused,” I whisper back. “And I hate you right now.”

“Happy birthday, Maiz,” she says, laughing as tears well in her eyes already.

My own eyes sting and water. “Don’t make me cry.”

“Angel!” Miguel steals me from Tatum and embraces me like we didn’t see each other hours ago. “Open my gift first. It might be a pair of moccasins, and you’ll love them.”

My heart pounds. If everyone wasn’t chattering, they would all catch my audible gulp. “Gifts?” Oh no.