Chapter 3: Birthday Games and Unspoken Tensions

04.

One night, we planned to play basketball downtown the next day.

I spent two hours on my makeup, prepped water, and texted him from outside his building: [I’m outside your place. Where are you?]

Five minutes later, he replied: [Something came up. Can’t play today.]

He never cancels unless it’s serious. My stomach dropped: [Did something happen?]

No reply.

I dragged myself home, all my excitement gone.

I collapsed on the couch and sulked for a while.

Later, I tried to cheer myself up. At least he let me know in advance—it could’ve been worse.

But that night, I saw a classmate’s Instagram story: a photo of her arm with an IV drip. All my bottled-up feelings from that morning came rushing back.

It was Natalie Brooks—the only girl Carter ever hung out with in high school. Everyone thought he liked her. After she went public with her boyfriend sophomore year, they drifted apart.

During that time, Carter’s grades dipped a little, fueling even more rumors.

Turns out, the ‘something’ that came up was him visiting her in the hospital.

Jealousy stabbed through me. I couldn’t help but text: [Did you go to the hospital today?]

What’s your relationship with her… I typed, deleted, and retyped, but never hit send.

He replied quick: [Yeah. A friend was sick, so I went to help take care of her.]

His answer was so casual, my anger just fizzled out. Like—what kind of friend needs you to personally take care of them?

[Don’t you… have anything to tell me?]

[This is my private business. I don’t make a habit of sharing my private life with others.]

In his world, she was a "private matter." I was just "others."

After almost two months of hanging out, I thought we were close, but to him, I was just the persistent classmate.

[Carter, you’re really infuriating, you know that?]

I didn’t wait for his reply. I blocked him.

My parents worked out of state, so I was home alone.

I basically turned into a couch goblin—hoodie fortress, cold pizza, Red Bull cans everywhere, ignoring every call except Lillian’s.

Lillian, my best friend, couldn’t stand watching me spiral. She’d call every day or drag me out for coffee, workouts, even volunteer shifts.

She was the only one who knew the whole Carter saga.

I never expected Carter to show up at my door.

The doorbell rang on a sticky Thursday night. I was in sweatpants, surrounded by pizza boxes and Red Bull, when I peeked out the peephole and saw him shifting awkwardly, clutching a bakery bag. He barely said a word, but that visit was the closest he’d ever come to an apology.

05.

My birthday hit right as college acceptance letters dropped.

Lillian took over, throwing a party at my place and inviting a bunch of our old high school crew.

Friends trickled in, chatting on the couch.

The doorbell rang. I swung it open and made a face at Tyler: “Whose ugly mug is this? Get lost.”

Pretending to close the door, Tyler panicked, grabbing my wrist and shoving a brightly wrapped gift at me. “Aubrey, no, no, I was wrong! Happy birthday!”

I caved for the sake of the gift—then saw Carter standing behind him, holding a present, eyes half-lowered, gaze stuck on Tyler’s hand on my wrist.

It’d been two weeks since I’d seen Carter.

The air was thick with awkward. Tyler shoved Carter’s gift into my hands and mumbled, “Met up with Carter to play ball this morning. Since we’re all old classmates, I brought him along.”

I glanced at the fancy gift—definitely expensive, the kind you have to preorder—then looked up at Carter. He’d already shifted his gaze, but when our eyes met, he spoke, voice softer than usual: “Happy birthday.”

I tamped down my nerves: “Thanks.” I stepped aside to let them in.

Carter paused for a second as he walked by, and I could feel him looking at me.

“Carter, come here, this is fun!”

Tyler called out. Carter hesitated, then joined him.

I let out a breath. Lillian appeared at my elbow: “Did he come to apologize?”

“No, he just came with Tyler.”

Lillian snorted. “He never shows up to parties he’s not invited to.”

I felt weirdly touched. I glanced at Carter across the room, and he happened to look up at the same time.

Busted, I looked away fast.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “The results are out!” and everyone dove for their phones, faces lighting up with either joy or panic.

“Class rep, which college did you get into?” Tyler called.

Everyone looked over.

I didn’t bother hiding it: “Franklin University.”

“Hey, you and Carter are at the same school!”

At that, everyone started glancing back and forth between me and Carter.

Finally, Lillian saved me: “Time for the birthday girl to cut the cake!”

After dinner, someone suggested truth or dare.

The bottle landed on Carter. He picked truth.

Lillian shot me a look, then grinned at Carter: “Why did you choose Franklin?”

He sat across from me, eyes flicking up: “Because I like it.”

Someone snickered. My heart jumped into my throat.

He added calmly, “Franklin’s finance program is top-notch. I like the major.”

After everyone left, I came back to find Carter still hanging around.

He saw me and walked over, smelling faintly of fruit wine, voice a little rough: “Aubrey, can you not hate me?”

He stood in the doorway, staring out at the driveway, the porch light giving his hair a soft halo. It was so quiet you could hear the cicadas pause.