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My sixteenth birthday.

Standing alone in my parents’ kitchen, with pimples and bad eyeliner, I wished for him to be mine again. Every year since, it’s been the same wish.

Vinny. Vinny. Vinny.

But not this year.

He’s marrying the woman who just baked this birthday cake from scratch for me.

So I close my eyes, pull in a breath, and make a different wish. Something vague. Something safe. Something that doesn’t have light-brown hair and a dimple that I love.

It’s the end of a birthday-wish era.

I wish for health and happiness.

A generic wish for my generic life.

I blow the candles out in one steady breath.

Everyone cheers. I paste on my birthday smile.

Juliet immediately starts slicing the cake. Vinny grabs the ice cream and starts scooping with dramatic seriousness.

The door bangs open, and Blair storms in, apologizing for being late because of work. There’s a brief commotion about a cut on her lip. She brushes it off. Carly interrogates her for half a second, and then it passes.

It’s background noise.

Because Vinny walks toward me, holding a plate with cake. “Happy birthday, Emma.” He says it quietly, like it’s just between us, and the memory of him on my bed twelve years ago, promising a lifetime of birthday celebrations, like skydiving and matching tattoos, fills my mind.

“Thank you.”

His eyes linger a second too long. Or maybe I imagine that part—I wouldn’t put it past me. I’ve built the hope of our entire relationship out of half-seconds.

He walks away, joining Juliet on the couch. She tucks herself into his side like she belongs there. She does belong there.

I stare at my cake, embarrassed that I failed my first attempt at letting this silly crush go. I’m calling it a crush now. There’s no point in labeling it something bigger.

Camila slides into the chair next to me. I already know that look on her face. It’s the same look she gets before interrogating people in front of a judge.

“Emma, I can’t watch this anymore.” Her voice is equal parts tender and stern. “I know you’re in love with Vinny.”

My entire body goes rigid, and that stupid blush is back.

I’ve never talked about my feelings with anyone in our friend group, and I’m certainly not prepared for someone to call me out on it.

“What? No. Camila, don’t.” It’s like a desperate plea. “He’s engaged to Juliet. I can’t believe you’d even say that.”

Her eyebrows lift like she doesn’t believe a word. “So you’re not going to admit it to me?”

The defensiveness comes quickly. “No! Juliet is one of my best friends,” I hiss, “and I’m her maid of honor. I would never do that to her.”

I shake my head and walk away, knowing it’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told. Because I am in love with him. And now people are noticing.

There’s an open spot on the floor next to Blair, so I sit down. Camila follows close behind, sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Vinny and Hess.

“I’m sorry I totally missed your birthday party,” Blair says again.

“It’s totally fine,” I brush her words away. “You didn’t miss it. You’re here now.”