Page 126 of My Best Years

“I love you, Cal.”

“I love you too, baby.”

She places a string of kisses from the tip of my nose to my jaw and, finally, my lips. My heart pounds against my chest when she gets up and presses play on the laptop.

When she returns to the couch, I slide back against the armrest and pull her to me. She settles between my legs with her back to my chest. I kiss the hollow of her neck and wrap my arms around her waist. Her hands search for mine, intertwining our fingers together.

The second the video projects onto the big screen, all the air in my lungs evades me.

Because there we are, front and center.

Little Birdie and Callum. Ten years old.

My eyes instantly fill with tears as I watch the memory play out before my eyes.

“Alright, everyone! Gather around the table,” Birdie’s mom calls out. “It’s time to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my girl.”

We’re all gathered in Birdie’s home for her tenth birthday party.

In a group of fifteen kids, I make sure to run the fastest so I can sit next to Birdie. I grin proudly as I take the seatto the right of Birdie just as Winnie rushes to her other side.

“I want cake!” One of the kids at the end of the table shouts.

“Shut up!” Winnie barks at him.

“Winnie May,” her mom scolds. “There is no need to be rude. Apologize.”

Winnie crosses her arms over her chest before scowling and saying, “Sorry.”

“Once Birdie blows out her candles, everyone will get a big slice of cake.” Birdie’s mom smiles at the little boy who’s eyeing the cake like it’s a treasure chest. She bends over the table and lights all ten candles.

I lean next to Birdie so only she can hear me and whisper, “Happy Birthday, Birdie.”

I already wished her a happy birthday when I first got here, but I wanted to tell her again before everyone starts singing.

“Thank you, Cal,” she grins. “Can you believe I’m ten years old? I’ll never be a single-digit number again.”

“Welcome to the club,” I say because I turned ten this year, too. Birdie surprised me with a cool skateboard that I ride around before my dad gets home from work. I keep it under my bed because he would take it away if he saw it.

The candles glow against Birdie’s golden hair as everyone sings and wishes her a happy birthday. She’s so pretty, but I’m not sure I'll ever tell her that. It might freak her out. But she’s the prettiest girl I will ever see. I just know it.

“Blow out your candles and make a wish, sweetheart!” Birdie’s dad grins when everyone finishes the song.

Birdie inhales a deep breath and then stops herself. She pinches her brows together like she’s thinking hard. Everyone watches her as she stares down at her lit candles.

“Make a wish, babe,” her mom finally says.

“I know my wish!” Birdie shoutsenthusiastically.

She spills the wish out loud before anyone can stop her.

“I wish that Callum will be at every single one of my birthdays! Because he’s my best friend.”

My heart bounces around in my chest, and my cheeks feel warm.

Birdie’s dad holds back a laugh as a smile cracks across her mom’s face.

“Honey,” her mom starts, “you're supposed to keep your wishes inside here.” She points to her head.

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