When my mom was alive she would make the most outlandish birthday cakes with amusing flavors like tutti-frutti or pink champagne. She would decorate it in mounds of smooth buttercream frosting and glittery sprinkles.

It wasn't the bizarre and fantastic birthday cakes that I missed, but the love and care that went into making those strangely delicious desserts. My mom would spend weeks preparing for my birthday cake, looking up recipes online and flipping through magazines for ideas. Sometimes she would let my dad help her, but I was never allowed in the kitchen while she was making it. It had to be a surprise, otherwise, all her hard work would be ruined.

The first year after my mom died, I thought maybe my dad would continue her tradition.

Needless to say, he didn't.

That's why I'm so surprised to see Nessie in the kitchen blasting obscenities as she desperately tries to spread frosting on a warm cake. Despite how phenomenal of a cook Nessie is, she's somewhat of an airhead when it comes to baking. During the holidays, Nessie made dinner and my mom made dessert.

Nevertheless, I'm pleasantly surprised by Nessie's diligent frosting work, and even more surprised to see my dad and Gray hovering over her nervously with anxious smiles.

Then, they catch me peeking around the corner and Nessie lets out a ridiculously loud shriek. I watch in amusement as she hits my poor Gray in the face with a butter knife covered in melting yellow frosting that trickles down his nose.

"You have something on your face," I tease, carefully wiping the glistening icing off his nose with my finger. He chuckles before wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up from the ground.

"Happy Birthday, babe!" Gray exclaims as he twirls me around the kitchen before bringing my lips to his. We indulge in a quick kiss, apprehensive with Nessie and my dad watching us, but I cherish every second of it.

After Gray puts me down, we migrate over to the table and each take a piece of Nessie's dripping cake. It tastes absolutely delicious, with a biting sour lemon tang swiftly overpowered by a sweet sugariness.

"Does it taste like lemonade?" Nessie asks as she slides a piece of cake onto her place. Gray holds my hand under the table, digging into his piece like a madman while my dad slowly picks at his. He's not a big fan of anything sour, but I appreciate his effort.

"Most definitely," I respond before taking another bite.

"Shit!" Nessie screams as if she's witnessed a giant tarantula crawling across the kitchen floor.

"What's wrong?" My dad shouts since he's the only one without a mouthful of cake.

"We forgot to sing 'Happy Birthday' and blow out candles!"

I roll my eyes and assure Nessie it's totally alright. Besides, if we sit here any longer, Gray and I will be late for school. It's been over two months since I left Neo, and switching back to in-person school has been a challenging but welcome adjustment. It's the first time in years that things actually feel completely normal. Although we don't have any classes together, Gray and I eat lunch together and he drives me to and from school. Not to mention, we spend plenty of time outside of school together. Nobody at school has given us shit about being a couple, which is fucking amazing. We hold hands freely and sneak kisses during lunch. Nobody seems to care, even Naomi, who's found a new boyfriend, one who is actually straight. Why should anyone care anyway? It's our lives and there's nothing wrong with it.

I slip on my backpack and give both Nessie and my dad a hug before heading out to Gray's truck. He backs out of my driveway and drives out of our cul-de-sac. As soon as we're faraway from our homes, Gray pulls over and reaches across to give me another kiss. Only this time, it's drawn out and the force of his intoxicating lips pushes me into the cushiony bench seat. I wrap my arms around Gray's neck and bring him closer into me, allowing his tongue to slip inside my mouth. He tastes like acidic lemons and buttercream frosting, but I don't mind indulging in a little extra dessert. I hold my hands firmly against his back to keep myself steady as he rests his chest on top of mine. Our heartbeats flutter in sync, both fast and unstoppable. Playfully, I catch Gray's tongue lightly with my teeth, taunting him by pulling away and sitting back up on the bench seat, snapping in my seat belt.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I tease, "We're gonna be late for school!"

Gray simply rolls his eyes at me and shifts into drive, though his focus remains on my lips rather than the road.

***

Wherever we are, Gray calls me babe. I suppose he noticed how much I light up every time he uses the enduring nickname, and now I answer to it more than my own name. I don't mind. It makes me happy to see Gray engage in our relationship so freely. He's transformed into an even more open and positive person than the boy I met five months ago. He refuses to hide our relationship from anyone, and I fully support it. Both of us have spent too long hiding our true selves, and we're tired of it.

A few people wish me, "Happy Birthday" when we arrive at school. Although I consider Gray, Sabina, and André my closest friends, there's a few different people I chat with in my various classes. I'm earning the reputation of class talker, which is a stark contrast from the student I was a year ago. It makes me realize how much of my life I was holding back for so many years. Like Gray, I've gone through a transformation of my own. I've become the charismatic, bubbly kid I once was, and it feels fantastic to finally find my place in the world.

Sabina and André also wished me a, "Happy Birthday," before breakfast. They FaceTimed me from Arizona. André departed Neo on December 2 and boarded the first plane to Phoenix, joyfully reuniting with Sabina. Since then, the two have texted me dozens of selfies hiking the desert trails, shopping in Scottsdale, and traversing the Grand Canyon. Dr. Cole and André's parents agreed the trip would provide a necessary transition from Neo to life as normal, whatever that might be. According to André, nothing will be the same as it was before. For him, that's probably a good thing. No more hiding his feelings or striving to reach unrealistic expectations from his parents.

Following my own departure from Neo, Dr. Cole recommended me to a therapist in Santa Barbara named Dr. Rossi. I've been visiting her once a week while also maintaining my use of Prozac. So far, it's been wonderful. I don't just feel happier, I feel like I'm experiencing the world through a whole new lens, one that is vibrant and spectacular. Dr. Rossi reminds me that life won't always be perfect. Antidepressants don't eradicate melancholy from one's life, but I'm prepared to work through anything now. When something does upset me, Dr. Rossi is there to help me. Finally, I'm taking care of my mental health. I've done so much to get to the place I'm at today, and I refuse to throw all that progress away.

My dad is also visiting a therapist. Some days are more difficult than others, but Nessie keeps him accountable and monitors him daily to ensure that he's not using anymore.

After my mom died, I used to dread my birthday. My dad never got me any presents. I ended up celebrating alone in my bedroom, tears in my eyes and my head bowed, praying for a miracle to happen. I desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were before. When that didn't work, I tried my best to think of my birthday as just another insignificant day.

At my lowest point, I didn't see the point of celebrating my birthday because I believed nobody would care if I was alive. I certainly didn't. Yet, looking back, I couldn't have been more wrong. There are so many fantastic people in my life who care about me and are glad that I'm a part of their lives.

I'm glad to be a part of their lives too.