Trish showed up right when the group was done eating. She'd snuck in alcohol in grocery bags.

When Charles spotted the liquor in the bags, he jumped to attention. "Quick, put those bags under the table. My parents will be out here any min--"

The back door opened. "Hello, everyone!" Sara's parents emerged from the kitchen. Mrs. Smith carried a very large vanilla cake. Pink candles were dotted here and there over the pink frosting.

"Happy birthday, Sweetie," Sara's mother called. She set the cake down on the table in the backyard.

Mr. Smith, looking quite exhausted, and still wearing an apron, smiled broadly. "Yes, happy birthday, Sara!"

Sara blushed. She wasn't used to so much attention. All of her previous birthdays had mainly been spent with just Pam and Erin.

"Ooh, it's a beautiful cake!" Dalia exclaimed. She leaned closer.

"How long did it take you to bake this?" Kimber asked, fluffing her hair.

Mr. Smith crossed his arms. "I'm not going to answer that. My wife, here, is a perfectionist. Wouldn't let me out of that kitchen alive until I frosted every single inch of that cake."

Mrs. Smith beamed at the group. "It's so wonderful you all could be here for Sara today," she said.

Oh my gawd. Why were parents SO embarrassing?

Thank goodness for Charles. He stepped in to save Sara.

"Mom! Dad! This is GREAT!" he said, slapping his hands together. "Now, come over here, Buttercup. Blow out your candles. And then mom and dad will...you know...go away." He winked at her.

Sara playfully shoved him away. She approached the cake. Its candles blinked at her in happy, flickering bursts of light.

"What are you going to wish for?" Ella asked, giggling.

Erin and Pam exchanged annoyed glances.

"Sara Sweet is gonna wish she had another version of me as her boyfriend," Trevor joked. "The way less cool version, though!"

Erin laughed and jabbed him with her elbow. She was used to his clownish shenanigans.

"You could wish for lots and lots of designer shoes!" Trish said. She'd poured some of the liquor she'd brought into a plastic cup. Her eyes were already looking a bit glassy as she sipped it.

Dan and Chad, the soccer captains, clapped Sara hard on the back.

"Why not wish to win your next field hockey game?" Dan said.

"Nah, wish to see Trevor get kicked in the face with a soccer ball," Chad said, cracking up. He was also sipping some of Trish's liquor from a plastic cup.

"No one's kicking me in the face, but me," Trevor said, pointing to himself.

Sara bit her lip, staring at the cake.

What should I wish for? she wondered.

She focused on the candles. Their flames looked so full of life and excitement.

Her vision shifted to the person standing directly behind the cake.

Bentley watched her with a solemn expression. She could see her birthday candles reflected in the heat of his chocolate milk eyes. He gazed at her, unblinking. The silky curls of his hair hung carelessly across his forehead. His mouth, soft in the candlelight, had the faint tracings of a smile.

As she looked back at him, she felt her heart flutter. An energy was passing between them. She wasn't sure how she knew it. But she could feel it.

"Time to make a wish," Charles called.