Her answering grin is mischievous. “I see. And if he ever wants me to help him plan a romantic surprise for you?”
 
 I laugh. “Keep it a surprise, duh!”
 
 “Okay. Should I give you hints?”
 
 I sigh, laughing. “No, Emily. That would defeat the purpose of it being a romantic surprise.” I hesitate. “Wait—is he planning a romantic surprise?”
 
 Emily goes wide-eyed. “No! I just was wondering. When I got this job, I was hoping something romantic and fun would happen like in the movies. But so far it hasn’t.”
 
 I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I pat her on the shoulder. “Stick around, Emily. I have a feeling you’ll get your wish.”
 
 The rest of the day goes smoothly enough. I finish work and head out to get Nate from school, pop into our favorite coffee shop for a quick snack before he has basketball practice.
 
 I sit on the bleachers and watch him practice, and exchange texts in our girl group.
 
 Imogen: I need to figure out how to tell Jesse. I’m freaking out!
 
 Audra: Ummm, how about: Yo, jesse babe, you knocked me up.
 
 Nova: that’s fucking stupid, Audra. I swear, you think like a caveman.
 
 Audra: excuse me, that’s caveWOMAN
 
 Me: how about a surprise baby shower? Like, with beer and chicken wings and surprise, we’re having a baby
 
 Imogen: Actually, Laurel, that’s not a bad idea. Act like it’s a surprise birthday party, and then when he gets really confused because it’s not his birthday, I’m like, oh, oops. And I bring out a cake that has YOU’RE GOING TO BE A FATHER!
 
 Audra: Wait, I have an idea!
 
 Imogen: If it involves giving him a blowjob, keep it to yourself.
 
 Audra: You take the fun out of everything.
 
 Imogen: the man gets plenty of BJ’s, trust me. I need a cute, fun, romantic way of telling him I’m going to have his baby.
 
 Audra: I was actually going to suggest you let him cum on your belly, and be like, baby-juice on the outside of my stomach, baby-juice on the inside too! Surprise!
 
 Nova: I’m literally speechless.
 
 Audra: Not as speechless as he’d be.
 
 Imogen: Seriously, Audra. You could say Hail Marys til you’re 90 and not make up for all the nastiness you come up with.
 
 Audra: Sex is my spirit animal.
 
 Me: …
 
 Imogen: …
 
 Nova: …
 
 Audra: What? Why are you all sending me ellipses?
 
 Me: Because that makes zero sense.
 
 Audra: FINE. LET’S PLAN YOUR STUPID FAKE BIRTHDAY SURPRISE BABY SHOWER PARTY.
 
 Imogen: Can we get it planned by this weekend?
 
 Nova: Did I ever mention I was an event planner in a previous life?
 
 Audra: see, again, I’m not sure if you’re joking or not.
 
 Nova: Not joking. I used to own my own event planning company. Then some shit in my life went sideways, and I had to switch tracks, which is how I ended up in nursing.
 
 Imogen: Didn’t you also used to be a bartender?
 
 Nova: In college, yeah—my first degree was a double major in political science and public relations. I thought I was going to be a politician or something. I was super political back then—a real idealistic, energetic, ra-ra-ra, “I’m gonna change the world” type. And then some shit happened and I discovered by accident that I have a knack for party planning, and ended up starting a company. And then more shit happened and I had to start over. My party planning company didn’t quite make enough to make ends meet, so I bartended on the weekends, and when the shit happened, I went back to school for nursing and ended up with my MS. And I am now an assistant to a neurologist, because I’m an overachiever.
 
 Nova: Never say I’ve never shared anything with you, because I think that’s the longest text message I’ve ever sent.
 
 Me: Wait, so you have a double major in political science and public relations, AND an MS in nursing?
 
 Nova: There’s a minor in art history in there too. Like I said, I’m a chronic overachiever who has had zero life, like ever. I was the kid taking college courses in high school.
 
 Imogen: not to mention you’re six feet tall, ripped, and absolutely gorgeous? ANNOYING.
 
 Nova: I offset all that by being a cold, neurotic, antisocial bitch.
 
 Audra: You’re not antisocial.
 
 Nova: LOL, I notice you’re not denying the other two.
 
 Me: I wouldn’t say you’re cold, just a little…aloof, sometimes. But I think it’s just because you’re hiding a lot of pain and damage and don’t trust all that easily.
 
 Nova: Or at all. The three of you are the first real friends I’ve had in years, and making myself leave my apartment to hang out requires an act of will every time.
 
 Imogen: We’re honored, Nova. We’ve adopted you because we love you. You’re ours now, and you may as well just accept it.
 
 Audra: I don’t mind you, Nova. I actually kind of identify with you, because I come across as aloof sometimes too. Cold ass bitches of the world, unite!