“Thanks, you guys,” I say. “This is really sweet.”
“Well, you only turn sixteen once,” Mason says, smiling genuinely.
“Happy birthday,” Cassie says before retreating to the basement to work. Mason calls after her that he’ll be down in a minute.
“So, how’s everything going?” he asks when we’re alone.
“Fine,” I say.
“You seem to be spending a lot of time with Audrey,” Mason says. He coughs once. “And her brother.”
“Yeah,” I say, turning pink. Mason looks a little uncomfortable, but he presses on.
“Is he a good guy?” he asks. “Is he nice to you?”
“Yes,” I say, fighting a grin. “He’s nice to me. You’d like him. You should get to know him better.”
“And Audrey?” Mason asks, changing the subject. I know Mason views people outside the program as audience members for his elaborate performance, not as friends. I can tell that he’s still worried that I’m going to share too much. It makes me feel a little guilty that I already have.
“Audrey seems to be doing better,” I say, shrugging it off. “She looks a lot better and acts like she has more energy.” I smile, trying to make myself believe.
“That’s good,” Mason says. He opens his mouth to say something else, then closes it again. Having known him for so long, I can read his mind: I know he wants to tell me not to be naïve about cancer. But it’s my birthday, so he holds back. Finally, instead he says, “Well, I should go down before Cassie blows a fuse.”
I snort into my water glass at Mason’s reference to Cassie, the machine.
“Good luck with that,” I say.
“Thanks,” Mason says, grinning at me. He takes a step toward the door before turning back. “Hey, kid, happy birthday, again. You’ve grown into… Well, I’m proud of you.”
Mason walks over and kisses me on the head before quickly going downstairs, leaving me feeling full of love and admiration for the parent I would have picked anyway. Even if he wasn’t assigned to me.
With everyone accounted for, I go to the office and search for the bazillionth time for the mysterious Case 22 file, reasoning that maybe since it’s my birthday, I’ll find it.
No luck.
So, I shower and get ready, then call Audrey.
“When’s this event starting?” I ask.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
In honor of my special day, Audrey’s mom lets her drive solo so we can have some girl time. Audrey picks me up in her happy car and takes me to the mall for coffee, pedicures, and the cute T-shirt of my choice (I select a supersoft tee with a pop art Einstein on it—which looks a lot cooler than it sounds). After that, we head back to Audrey’s house to change for what she calls the real present.
“Put this on,” Audrey says as she hits me in the face with an unidentified article of clothing. I’m brushing my hair at her vanity; she’s buried in her closet, trying to find exactly the right outfit.
“Uh…” I say, taking in the royal blue tank dress.
“What?” Audrey asks. “It’ll make your eyes pop. And you can’t wear jeans. It’s a special occasion!”
“I guess,” I say, frowning at the dress.
“Don’t you like it?” she asks. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“No, it’s not that,” I say. “It’s really cute. I just don’t wear a lot of dresses.”
“Well, you should,” Audrey says warmly before throwing silver leggings and a cropped black jacket at me. I give in and get dressed. She emerges with ankle boots in her hands, which, thankfully, she doesn’t throw at me.