"Okay, guys, it's eleven forty-two. Eighteen minutes left of my birthday."

I smiled at the phone propped against the vase of lilies on our dining table. The smile felt stiff now, like makeup left on too long.

The comments rolled up the screen.

**"Where's Ethan??"**

**"Girl, he's not coming."**

**"Maybe he's stuck in traffic! Don't listen to the haters, Nora!"**

My name is Nora Quill. For two years, my best friend Kiara Dunmore and I had run *Nora & Kiki* together. Couples content, outfit hauls, apartment makeovers. Half a million followers. Tonight was supposed to be our biggest stream yet. My live birthday surprise from my boyfriend of four years.

Kiara had planned the whole thing with me. She'd picked the dress I was wearing. She'd texted me at six.

**Kiara: He's got something BIG planned. Don't you dare cry off your lashes.**

That was the last time I heard from her.

"He's probably just running late," I told the camera. "Ethan's the kind of guy who'd rather show up perfect than show up on time."

I didn't believe it as I said it. I said it anyway.

I tapped his name again. The phone rang four times and dropped me into voicemail.

*"Hey, it's Ethan Marlowe. Leave it at the beep."*

I hung up before the beep.

**"That's the 9th call. I counted."**

**"No cake? No flowers? On her BIRTHDAY?"**

**"Kiki isn't here either lol"**

My thumb froze over the screen. I read that last one twice.

"Kiara's sick," I said quickly. "She told me she'd watch from home."

That was a lie too. She hadn't told me anything.

Then a new comment popped up, highlighted in gold because the user had paid to pin it.

**"Nora I'm so sorry but I'm literally at Maison Verre on 5th right now. Ethan is here. He's with a woman. They're sharing dessert."**

The chat exploded.

**"WHAT"**

**"Pics or it didn't happen"**

**"Oh no oh no oh no"**

I stared at the pinned comment. My mouth was dry. My face was still smiling, and for some reason that was the worst part. I couldn't make it stop.

"That's... funny," I heard myself say. "Ethan hates French food."

Another comment slid in.

**"Corner table by the window. He's wearing a navy suit."**

I had bought him that navy suit. I'd picked it out for tonight.

"Okay! That's it for tonight, everybody. Thank you for hanging out with me."

**"NORA DON'T GO"**

**"GO GET HIM QUEEN"**

I ended the stream. The screen went black, and in it I saw my own reflection, lipstick perfect, eyes wide.

I grabbed my keys.

---

The cab smelled like pine air freshener and old coffee.

"Fifth Street. Maison Verre. Please hurry."

The driver glanced at me in the mirror. "Big night?"

"My birthday."

"Happy birthday, then."

I laughed. It came out sharp and strange, and he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride.

I called Kiara on the way. She didn't pick up. I called again. Straight to voicemail, like she'd turned her phone off.

Like she didn't want to be found.

---

Maison Verre glowed gold from the street. Candles. White tablecloths. A violinist near the bar.

The hostess stepped in front of me. "Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

"I'm meeting someone."

"Under what name?"

I didn't answer. I was already looking past her shoulder.

Corner table. By the window.

Navy suit.

Ethan sat with his back half-turned to the room, his tie loosened the way he only loosened it when he was relaxed. Really relaxed. He hadn't looked that relaxed with me in months.

Across from him, a woman leaned in. Long dark hair. A gold bracelet on her wrist.

I knew that bracelet. I'd given it to her for her twenty-fifth birthday.

Kiara.

She laughed at something he said and reached across the table. He caught her hand. Then he leaned forward, and she met him halfway, and they kissed like they'd done it a hundred times before.

Between them, on the white tablecloth, sat a cake.

Pink frosting. White roses piped along the edges. Gold letters across the top.

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NORA.**

My cake. Sitting there while they kissed over it.

"Ma'am?" The hostess touched my arm. "Ma'am, are you all right?"

I walked away from her.

My heels hit the wooden floor hard enough that a couple at the next table turned around. Ethan didn't notice. Kiara didn't either. They were too busy.

I stopped beside their table.

"Is that chocolate inside?" I asked. "Or vanilla?"

Ethan jerked back so fast his chair scraped. Kiara's hand flew to her mouth.

"Nora." His face went white. "Nora, what are you... how did you..."

"Half a million people told me where to find you." I tilted my head. "Didn't you know I was live tonight, Ethan? Kiara knew. Kiara planned it."

Kiara stood up. Her voice came out soft and shaky, the way it did in our sponsor videos when she wanted people to feel sorry for her.

"Babe, please. This isn't what it looks like."

"Really?" I looked at her lipstick, smeared across Ethan's mouth. Same shade as hers. "Because it looks like you were kissing my boyfriend over my birthday cake."

"We were going to bring it to you," Ethan said quickly. "We were just... talking first. About your surprise."

"With your tongues?"

Someone at the next table snorted. Ethan's jaw went tight.

"Keep your voice down," he hissed. "People are staring."

"Let them."

I picked up the cake.

It was heavier than I expected. Three layers. The kind of cake you order two weeks in advance. He'd planned this. He'd planned all of it. The cake, the dinner, the kiss.

Just not with me.

"Nora," Kiara whispered. "Don't."

I smiled at her. Really smiled this time.

Then I smashed the cake into both of their faces.

Frosting splattered across Ethan's navy suit. Pink roses smeared down Kiara's cheek and into her hair. Kiara screamed. Ethan stumbled back into the window, choking on sponge cake, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

The whole restaurant went silent. Even the violinist stopped.

"Are you insane?" Ethan sputtered. "Nora, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Happy birthday to me."

I dropped the empty cake board on the table. It clattered against a wine glass and knocked it over. Red wine soaked into the white tablecloth like a spreading stain.

Kiara was crying now, real tears cutting tracks through the frosting. "You've ruined everything. You didn't even let us explain."

"Explain what? How long?" I looked from her to him. "How long, Kiara?"

She didn't answer.

That was an answer.

I pulled out my phone and tapped the camera icon. The red dot lit up.

Ethan's eyes went wide. "Put that away."

"No."

"Nora. I'm serious. Put it away right now."

"So am I." I held the phone up, steady, framing both of their frosting-covered faces. "Smile, you two. I'm recording everything you've done."

Kiara lunged for my phone.

I stepped back.

"Go ahead," I said quietly. "Grab it. I'd love for everyone to see that too."

Her hand stopped in midair.

And behind her, Ethan was already pulling out his own phone, his thumb moving fast across the screen, his frosting-smeared face suddenly calm.

Too calm.

"You want to post something, Nora?" he said. "Fine. But you should know what Kiara and I have on *you* first."

"What you have on me?"

I didn't lower my phone. The red dot kept blinking in the corner of the screen.

"You heard me." Ethan wiped a streak of pink frosting off his eyebrow with his thumb. "Keep recording, Nora. See how that works out for you."

Ten minutes ago, I would have believed anything he told me.

Ten minutes ago, I was still hoping.

---

The corner table wasn't really a table. It was a private room tucked behind the window, with a frosted glass door and a little brass plaque that said *Salon Rose*. The door hadn't latched. A thin line of candlelight leaked through the gap.

I pressed two fingers against the glass. It swung open without a sound.

Ethan had his head turned to the side, his hand cupping Kiara's jaw. He was kissing her slowly, like he had all night.

Kiara. The girl who'd spent three weekends on her knees in my living room, gluing fake ivy to our filming wall. The girl who'd held my hair back when I threw up after my grandmother's funeral. The girl who knew every single thing I was scared of.

In the middle of the round table sat the cake. Pink frosting. White roses. Gold script.

**Happy Birthday, Nora.**

I'd shown her that exact cake on my phone two weeks ago. *If anyone ever gets me this,* I'd said, *I'll marry them on the spot.*

She'd laughed. "Noted."

My heel scuffed the floor.

They broke apart like someone had fired a gun. Kiara shot to her feet so fast her napkin slid off her lap. Her eyes darted everywhere. The wall. The cake. The floor. Anywhere but me.

Ethan didn't stand.

He just sighed. Long and heavy, like I was a delivery he hadn't ordered.

"How did you even find this place?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Aren't you supposed to be home doing your live thing?"

My *live thing*.

Four years. Four years, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn't *I'm sorry*. It wasn't *Nora, wait*. It was a complaint. I had interrupted him.

Something inside me went very quiet. The last little piece of me that had been making excuses on the cab ride over, *maybe it's a business dinner, maybe she's helping him plan, maybe*... it just switched off.

"My live thing," I repeated.

"Yeah. You said you'd be streaming till midnight." He checked his watch. "It's not midnight."

"You're right." I stepped up to the table. "It's not."

"Nora." Kiara's voice wobbled. "Babe, I..."

I picked up the cake.

Then I threw it.

It wasn't graceful. It hit Ethan square in the chest and exploded upward, and the rest of it caught Kiara across the cheek and neck. Sponge and pink cream smeared down her collarbone and into the neckline of her silk dress. A rose slid off her chin and landed on the tablecloth with a wet little *plop*.

Kiara shrieked. Ethan swore and shoved his chair back, clawing cream out of his eyes.

I already had my phone up.

"Don't move."

My voice came out flat. Calm. I didn't recognize it.

"Are you out of your mind?" Ethan spat out a chunk of cake. "Turn that off."

"No. I'm recording everything you two did tonight." I steadied the frame on both of their faces. "Every second of it."

---

And now here we were.

Ethan held his phone like a weapon. Kiara stood beside him, dripping frosting onto the carpet, her shoulders shaking.

"Go on," I said. "Show me what you've got."

"Ethan, don't." Kiara caught his wrist. "Please. Not like this."

She turned to me. With the back of her hand she scraped a thick smear of cream off her cheek, and underneath, her eyes were already turning red. Her lower lip trembled. I'd seen that lip tremble a hundred times on camera. Sponsor apologies. Breakup storytimes. It always worked.

"Nora, I know how this looks." Her voice cracked right on cue. "I know. And you have every right to hate me. But you don't know the whole story."

"Then tell me the whole story."

"Ethan called me last week." She sniffed hard. "He was panicking about tonight. He wanted everything perfect for you. The cake, the room, the speech. He asked me to help because I know you better than anyone."

"So you helped him by kissing him."

"It wasn't..." She pressed her frosting-covered hand to her chest. "He was nervous. I was nervous. We had a glass of wine, and he started talking about how scared he was of losing you, and I got emotional, and it just *happened*. Once. It happened once, Nora. Two seconds before you walked in."

I almost laughed.

It bubbled up out of nowhere, and I swallowed it down. My grip on the phone stayed steady.

"Two seconds," I said.

"I swear on our channel."

"On our channel." I tilted my head. "Not on your mother. Not on your life. On our *channel*."

Her face flickered. Just for a second. Then the tears came back, faster.

"That's not fair. You're twisting my words."

"I'm recording your words. There's a difference."

Ethan stepped in front of her, like he was the one who needed protecting. "She's telling the truth. You burst in here before we could explain anything, and you went psycho with a cake. On camera. You think people are going to side with you after this?"

"I think people are going to see exactly what happened."

"Yeah?" A slow smile spread under the frosting on his mouth. "Ask Kiara what she saw."

I shifted the lens to her.

Kiara wiped her eyes, and this time when she looked up, she didn't look scared at all.

"I'm sorry, Nora," she whispered. "I didn't want it to come to this. But if you post that video..."

She glanced at Ethan. He turned his phone around so the screen faced me.

"...then everyone gets to see yours too."

I never saw the screen.

Kiara's hand shot out and shoved Ethan's phone down against his thigh before I could make out a single pixel.

"No," she said. "Ethan, no. Not like this."

He frowned at her. She didn't look at him. She looked at me, and her face crumpled all at once, like someone had pulled a thread.

"Nora Elowen Quill."

My full name. She only ever used my full name when she was about to cry, or when she wanted me to forgive her for something.

Tonight it was both.

"It's not what you think." Tears spilled over her lashes and cut two clean lines through the frosting on her cheeks. "I swear to God, it's not what you think. You've got it all wrong."

"I've got it wrong?"

I kept the phone up. My arm was starting to ache, but I didn't lower it an inch.

"I walked in and saw you kissing him. My birthday cake was sitting right there on the table." I nodded at the ruined board, the smear of pink across the tablecloth. "So go ahead. Tell me which part I got wrong."

"All of it. The way it looks..."

"Is exactly how it is."

Ethan moved before she could answer. His hand came up fast, palm flat, straight at the lens.

I twisted my shoulder away. His fingers grazed the edge of my phone case and caught nothing but air.

"Touch it again," I said, "and that goes in the video too."

He stopped. His hand hung there for a second before he dropped it and dragged it across his jaw instead, wiping off a streak of cream. He flicked it onto the carpet like it had personally insulted him.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and smooth. It was the voice he used on waiters who got his order wrong.

"Nora. Come on. Turn it off."

"No."

"This is between us. The three of us." He stepped closer, slow, like I was a dog that might bite. "We can sit down somewhere quiet and talk about it like adults. There's no reason to make this ugly."

I stared at him.

Pink frosting was still caked in his eyebrow. A crushed sugar rose clung to his lapel. The navy suit I'd picked out for him was ruined, and he was standing there telling me not to make things ugly.

"Ugly," I said.

"Yes. Ugly. Embarrassing. For everyone."

"Where was all that worry ten minutes ago?" My voice climbed, and I let it. "When you had your hand on her face and your tongue in her mouth? Did you stop and think, *wow, this might get embarrassing*?"

His jaw ticked. He didn't answer.

Behind him, Kiara sank into her chair like her legs had given out. She covered her face with both hands. Her shoulders heaved.

"I didn't want this," she sobbed into her palms. "I never wanted any of this."

"Then what did you want?"

She lowered her hands. Her mascara had started to run.

"You want the truth? Fine. Here's the truth." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Ethan and I... we've had feelings for each other. For a long time."

The room went very still.

"A long time," I repeated.

"I tried to ignore it. I swear I tried." She pressed her fist against her chest. "Every time I saw you two together, it was like being ripped in half. You're my best friend, Nora. And he's... he's..."

She glanced up at Ethan. He reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

I watched his thumb move. Small circles. The same thing he used to do to me in movie theaters.

"I've been stuck in the middle this whole time," Kiara went on. "Do you know what that's like? Lying awake every night, hating myself?"

"No," I said. "I've been busy being lied to."

She flinched. Then she kept going, faster now, like she'd rehearsed it.

"Tonight was supposed to be the end. We came here to say goodbye. To cut it off, for good, so you two could be happy. And then we got emotional, and it just..." Her voice broke. "We lost control. One time. That's all."

I didn't say anything.

Something strange was happening in my chest. I'd expected it to hurt more. Instead it felt like ice water creeping up from my fingertips, past my wrists, into my elbows.

"Two minutes ago," I said slowly, "you told me Ethan called you last week. That you were helping him plan my surprise. That it happened once, two seconds before I walked in."

Kiara opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Now it's been a long time," I said. "Now you've been lying awake at night. Which story am I supposed to record, Kiara? I've got room for both."

"She's upset," Ethan cut in. "She's not thinking straight. Neither of us is."

"You seem fine."

He let out a breath through his nose. Then he put on a face I'd never seen before. Solemn. Almost noble.

"Look. She's telling you the truth now. I was going to tell you myself." He met my eyes and held them. "Tonight. I planned to sit you down after your stream and be honest. I just didn't think you'd find out like this."

For a second, I couldn't speak.

Then I laughed.

It burst out of me, loud and ugly, bouncing off the frosted glass door. Kiara's head jerked up. Ethan took half a step back, like I'd swung at him.

"You were going to tell me," I said, still laughing, "on my *birthday*."

"Nora..."

"Out of three hundred and sixty-five days, you picked that one. To sit me down and say, *happy birthday, babe, I've been sleeping with your best friend*." I pointed the camera at the wrecked cake board. "And what's this? Party favors? You got my cake so you could celebrate your affair over it?"

"That's not fair," Kiara whispered.

"Then explain it."

She wiped her nose with the back of her wrist. The gold bracelet I'd bought her slid down and caught the candlelight.

"I ordered the cake," she said. "Me. Not him."

"Why?"

"Because you showed me that picture. Remember? You said it was your dream cake." Her chin trembled. "I thought... even if I couldn't have him, even if everything fell apart, I still wanted you to have a happy birthday. I wanted *something* to be perfect for you."

She looked up at me through wet lashes, so sad, so sincere.

If I hadn't seen her kiss him, I would have hugged her.

That was the part that froze me all the way through. Not the kiss. Not the lies. It was how *good* she was at this. Every tear landed exactly where she needed it. Every crack in her voice came right on time.

Four years. I'd watched her do this to sponsors, to exes, to angry commenters.

I'd never once thought she would do it to me.

"Wow," I said quietly.

Kiara blinked. "What?"

"You almost had me."

Ethan's grip on her shoulder tightened. Kiara's tears stopped. Not slowly. All at once, like a faucet turning off.

She stood up. Smoothed her ruined dress. And when she spoke again, her voice was completely steady.

"Okay, Nora," she said. "Then I guess you'd better see what's on Ethan's phone."