The backyard looks like something out of a movie by the time the sun starts dipping. Lanterns swing gently overhead, fairy lights glow like bottled stars, and the smell of grilled food drifts through the air.
Lena's everywhere at once. Hugging relatives, laughing with friends, sneaking bites of cake when she thinks no one's looking.
Every time she smiles at Max, my stomach tightens.
I'm standing by the drinks table when Josh sidles up, whispering, "Clock's ticking."
"I know," I say. "I'm just… waiting for the right moment."
Josh gives me a look that says I sound exactly like someone who's going to wait until it's too late.
Nate calls everyone together for the cake.
The crowd sings, Lena blows out the candles, and for a few seconds I forget Max even exists. She looks so happy, cheeks flushed, eyes bright in the candlelight.
I almost step forward right there, gift in hand, words ready.
And then Max beats me to it.
He's already moving toward her, that perfect little box in his hands, smile dialed in just right.
The crowd starts to break apart, and I find myself frozen, like my feet can't decide if they want to stay planted or run.
Somewhere beside me, Josh mutters, "Don't you dare chicken out."
I watch Max cross the lawn like it's happening in slow motion.
He hands her the little box, and she takes it with this polite smile that makes me want to believe it doesn't mean anything.
But then she opens it.
Inside is a silver charm bracelet, simple, but shiny enough to catch the lantern light. There's one charm already on it: a tiny, delicate star.
Her fingers brush it like she's afraid it might disappear.
"It's beautiful," she says. And there it is. Her real smile.
The one I've been killing myself to earn for years.
Max grins, smooth as ever. "I thought it'd be a good start. You can add more charms over time."
He fastens it around her wrist himself, like some scene out of a romance movie, and the crowd around them chuckles and sighs.
I feel that old burn in my chest. The one that used to come every time a teacher pretended not to see me getting shoved into lockers.
It's not just jealousy. It's that feeling like I've already lost before I've even started.
Josh appears at my side, whispering like a coach mid-game.
"Hey. He gave her a bracelet. You're gonna give her something better yourself. Stick to the plan."
I swallow hard, nodding like I believe him.
But right now, Max Green feels like the final boss in a game I was never built to win.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The party drifts into that perfect, messy middle; music loud enough to drown small talk, clusters of people scattered between the backyard and the kitchen, the smell of cake still hanging in the air.
I'm lingering near the snack table, trying not to look like I'm stalking Lena from across the yard, when Josh slides in next to me.
"She's by the porch," he says.
I don't even have to ask who.
"And?"
"And I just told her I needed help moving some stuff inside. Which means she's about to walk right past here. Which means you're about to casually intercept her."
I shake my head. "Josh, that's…"
But then she's there, walking toward us, the charm bracelet glinting on her wrist like it's mocking me.
Josh claps me on the shoulder. "Go," he mutters, and vanishes into the crowd before I can argue.
"Hey," I say as she comes closer, and my voice actually sounds normal.
Her face lights up. "Ash! I've barely seen you all night. You hiding?"
"Helping," I correct. "And waiting for the right moment."
She tilts her head, smiling like she's curious. "Right moment for what?"
I feel the box in my pocket, warm from my hand being wrapped around it for the last hour.
"Come with me," I say before my brain can sabotage me.
And she does.
We end up at the far edge of the Carter's yard, where the fairy lights thin out and the night takes over.
The hum of the party feels muted here. Laughter, music, clinking glasses, like it's happening on the other side of a wall.
Here, it's just us.
Lena stands with her arms folded loosely, the warm glow from the lights catching in her hair.
She's smiling, but there's that faint crease between her eyebrows that only shows up when she's curious.
"So," she says softly, "what's this about?"
I reach into my pocket and feel the small box. Edges worn smooth from my thumb tracing it all night.
My hands are damp, my pulse too loud in my ears.
"It's… for your birthday," I say, holding it out. My voice is lower than I expected.
She takes it carefully, like it's something fragile, and opens it.
Inside, the necklace lies coiled. Silver chain, tiny glass pendant, a pressed forget-me-not sealed inside.
The kind of blue that doesn't fade, no matter how much time passes.
Her lips part slightly. "Ash… it's beautiful."
I swallow hard. "It's more than a gift. It's… it's a piece of me, I guess. You've been…"
I pause, searching for words big enough to hold everything I feel. "You've been the person I think about when things get bad. You're the reason I kept showing up. Even when it hurt. And I…"
Her eyes are locked on mine now, steady and unblinking. "And you…?" she prompts.
I take the deepest breath of my life. "I love you, Lena. I've loved you for years. And I'm done pretending I don't. So… yeah. Happy birthday."
For a moment, neither of us moves. The air between us is thick, like the pause before a storm breaks.
Then her smile starts,small, trembling, and spreads until it's the kind that could light up the whole backyard.
"Took you long enough," she whispers.
And then she's stepping closer, arms sliding around my neck, pulling me down into her kiss.
It's soft at first, uncertain, but then it deepens, and the world drops away.
It's soft at first, hesitant, tasting faintly of frosting and vanilla. Then she exhales against my lips, a small sound that feels like relief, and the world drops away.
I can feel the warmth of her breath, the brush of her hair against my cheek, the way her fingers find the back of my neck like she's known where they belong all along.
It's not fireworks. It's better. It's like coming home after being lost for years.
When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests against mine, and her voice is barely a breath.
"By the way," she says, her fingers touch the pendant, "this is the one I'll never take off."
I know I'll remember this moment for the rest of my life.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
We walk back toward the glow of the party side by side, our hands brushing now and then like they're learning a new language.
Every step feels light, like gravity's gone soft on me.
I've replayed that kiss a hundred times already in my head, and it's been maybe two minutes.
The noise of the backyard swells as we step back into the crowd, clinking glasses, bursts of laughter, someone yelling, "Who's up for round two of karaoke?"
It's almost dizzying, how quickly the quiet magic of that corner gives way to the chaos of the party.
And then I see Max.
He's leaning against the porch railing, drink in hand, talking to someone but not really there. His eyes find Lena. Then me.
For a heartbeat, something flickers in his face, like glass catching the light, and then it's gone. He lifts his drink in a small, wordless salute, and his smile… it's the kind that hurts to look at.
Lena doesn't notice. She's already getting pulled into a hug by one of her cousins, but I feel it. That silent goodbye.
Josh appears beside me out of nowhere, grinning. "Well?"
I can't stop the stupid grin from breaking across my face. "She said yes."
Josh claps me on the shoulder, laughing. "About time."
When I glance back, Max is gone from the railing. A minute later, I spot him near the gate, slipping his jacket on. He doesn't look back.
Something twists in my chest. Not guilt exactly, just the sharp edge of knowing what it costs someone to love quietly and walk away.
He never confessed. Never made it a fight. And maybe that makes him braver than me.
As the night winds down, I catch Lena's laugh from across the yard and it feels like sunlight breaking through my ribs. Everything feels so right. Simple. Ours.
I don't know it yet, but this is the last moment in my life that will ever feel this easy.
Because before the week is over, I'll learn the truth:
She's not mine to keep.
Not for long.