I still remember the first time Kattar invited me to one of his birthday parties. 

It was the beginning of March and all his friends were making guesses about what sort of extravaganza Mrs. Moon would arrange to celebrate Kattar turning 14.

I guess I thought I wouldn’t be included at the event because it seemed like everyone else - Ryan, Utkarsh, Bryan - were already so sure they’d be going.

I guess he already handed out invites. Maybe it’s a boys-only party,

It was better he left me out anyway. I couldn’t afford to get him any kind of present, lavish or not. I was shy enough about trying to ask Tia Maria for money every time I had to buy pads or shampoo.

If only everything wasn’t so expensive.

I’d debated cutting my hair a dozen times just so my basic care wouldn’t be such a drain on my auntie’s finances.

The only reason I didn’t was because of Papi. I knew how he’d…

We figured it was better he didn’t know…about most of the darker things, honestly.

Tia Maria thought it was best not to go asking him for help whenever the money got short, after everything that went down during the court proceedings, though it wasn’t like he ever stopped sending it.

It just didn’t go far between my part of the utilities and basic necessities.

And I figured Tia Maria was right. 

It was Mami’s family’s punishment, and that made it my punishment, somehow.

So whenever Daddy called I told him white lies about everything coming up roses and made no mention of anything as trivial as a present for a birthday party.

I just planned to avoid Kattar until the party had passed, but that failed very quickly.

Apparently, he thought I was just in the library studying because I was a good student…

He found me during our lunch period about two hours after I’d determined to avoid him and plopped down on the seat beside me, closing my textbook with one hand as he beamed like a miniature sun, laughing with that squinted smile, “There you are, you sneak. Why on earth are you studying? You promised to let me top the class this month.”

When I just frowned at him, he pouted, scrunching his chin up like a bratty baby.

“How do you expect to top the class if I don’t study?” I muttered dryly, “You might end up copying wrong answers.”

“Aha ha. I’m doing just fine, thank you. I have more important things to think about this month than…what are these even? Differential equations?”

“Kattar, do you even know what we’re studying in math at this point?”

“Eh, it includes numbers,” he laughed, obviously in too good a mood to be bothered by anything. “I’ll figure it out when I cram the night before the quiz. But listen,” I didn’t have much choice since he’d put his arm on my book to keep me from ignoring him, “My mom is getting this huge restaurant to cater my birthday. We’re gonna have octopus, and fancy pasta, and lamb gyros and stuff.”

“Oh, cool,” I said flatly, trying to tune him out, so I could mitigate my disappointment about having to turn his invitation down.

But my response caught him off guard, and he frowned with this look on his face…

Worried? Confused.

“You are coming to my party, right, Lise?”

“Why is that a given? You didn’t even ask me.”

“Come on, this isn’t prom,” he laughed nervously, “You don’t have to make a big deal about it. A party isn’t complete without a hobbit, so of course you have to be invited. My mom says you’re always welcome whether there’s a party going on or not. So you are coming, right?”

…

I wished I could have said I had plans.

“Alicia?”

“I’ll see about it, Kat. Lay off it.”

I didn’t like seeing that look on his face. Disappointed. Probably hurt too…

"Oh." Gobsmacked. “Okay…then. Well…let me know if you’ll be able to make it.”

…I wasn’t twisted, like that, back then.

But I didn’t want to make a fool of myself either. 

I knew his other friends would be getting him cool presents. A DS. New movies. Games for his PlayStation.

There was no way I was showing up empty-handed, or worse, with a homemade card made out of markers and construction paper.

I think I would have passed on going altogether if I hadn’t noticed the look that made itself at home on Kattar’s face, though he didn’t bring it up again during the week I endured my mental tug-of-war. 

His excitement was notably dampened every time he talked about his party, and his other friends were starting to catch on.

Fine, maybe I was being ridiculous. Maybe it was my stupid pride. What right did I have to pride?

After a week of Kattar’s gloom and one week before the party, I told him I would come, and I could read his relief as he smiled, “Oh, good. I was worried you would miss out on all the cool stuff my mom is planning. You’ve never gotten to try gyros before, right?”

“No.”

“You’ll love them. They’re sort of like Greek tacos…”

Why are you only thinking about me?

I find myself wondering even now how much of his need for me to be at his party was selfish and how much was just his loving desire to share the best parts of life - the life he’s always gotten to live - with me.

I wasn’t as grateful as I should have been.

Or rather - I was grateful - but I should have shown that gratitude through glee instead of the guilt that I spent the whole party stewing in as I thought of my own present in comparison to the ones everyone else had lined up on a table in the living room.

I had already gotten permission from Mrs. Moon to hide my present in one of the spare rooms.

There was no way I was giving it to him in front of everyone else, though admittedly, it was an unforeseen, but almost equally potent, kind of embarrassing to admit in front of everyone, after all the other presents had been opened that I didn’t want to give him his present in front of everybody else.

“Is it okay if I give it to you a little…later?”

On Kattar’s part, he just seemed a little surprised and confused, but a few of his friends laughed and whispered to each other at my statement which made Kat redden with annoyance.

It wouldn’t have mattered either way, every ounce of attention - every moment spent talking about it just made everything worse.

I burned myself out, bracing myself for his disappointment.

And bracing him for his disappointment, when the house was empty of everyone but us and his mother, and I promised, before going to get my present that it was terrible so that he wouldn’t expect much.

But when I brought out my ‘impressionist’ peonies, made from construction paper and colored with crayons, his eyes lit up like I’d handed him a lump of pure gold. 

He shouldn’t have been impressed.

But Mrs. Moon did say, didn’t she, that if they came from me, he would be happy to get flowers no matter what?

I wonder if she knows…how he feels about me…?

She has to, right?

If it’s been going on since high school, she must have been able to read the signs - even I could read the signs, and I hadn’t known him for nearly as long-

Isn’t that what they call mother’s intuition?

And Mrs. Moon is a million times more cunning than most people, definitely more cunning than me.

How long will we be able to keep this all from her when she gets back from San Diego?

A kind of cold dread tells me…

I don’t want to think about that right now.

It’s Kattar’s birthday. Let’s focus on tonight.

Parking my car outside Kattar’s apartment, I check my reflection in the mirror. Adjust the bodice of my top. Debate whether the cardigan adds to the look or detracts from it. 

I can let him decide that for himself.

You look pretty.

He’ll think so. He’ll think so.

He will.

Take a deep breath, Alicia.

This is going to go well. I promise.

Locking the door, I hurry inside and into the elevator.

I don’t want to risk getting sweaty trying to hurry up the stairs. 

But as the numbers tick up at a snail's pace, I feel my nervousness increase.

Check my reflection again in the elevator's full-sized mirror.

Does my hair look frizzy to anybody else?

I hope Kattar is ready by now, and feeling well.

But if he doesn’t feel like going out, we can always reschedule for another day when he might feel a little more up to it, and I could have a little more time to try to plan a birthday surprise that won’t be an absolute bore and the lamest birthday in the history of birthdays.

Chill, chill.

Smile.

So I do.

And this one looks sweet, and I like it.

As I exit the elevator, I realize that I didn’t even let Kattar know I arrived, and though a part of me would like to startle - I mean...surprise - him, I decide against it and slip my cell out of my sweater pocket trying to think up a text as I approach his door.

In retrospect, he can hear me anyway, so I might as well just knock.

Wait, what was he texting about earlier?

I unlock my cell with one hand as I knock on his door with the other, but to my surprise, it’s not completely closed and swings open quickly as my knuckles light on the surface.

When it does, my heart stops.

“Ahh! And here is our little angel now. You’re just in time, my darling.”

M…Mrs. Moon?