On the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Jazz tore out of the house and into the driveway. It was empty.

She didn’t know why she had even checked. Of course her mom couldn’t afford a car for her, and she didn’t need one—not when she had Nathan right next door and willing to drive her anywhere she needed.

Still, it would have been nice to gain a little independence.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” her mom said, placing a hand on Jazz’s shoulder from behind. “I wish I could have gotten you a car. Not just any car—a turquoise Cadillac.”

“I love you, Mom.” At least her mom knew the perfect car and the perfect color. That meant something. It meant everything. And in that moment, she felt sorry for Nathan. Even though he had a nice car to call his own, he didn’t have a close relationship with his parents, not the way she and her mom did.

His father worked nonstop, and for the brief moments in between, he walked about in a fog of stress, fatigue, and indifference to his family. Meanwhile, Nathan’s mother flitted from one relative’s house to the next, always happy, never demanding more from the man as either a husband or a father.

That left Nathan on his own most days, but he was never lonely. He had Jazz for his secrets and—most recently—Jessica Biles for his affections. He’d been dating Jessica for three months and one day. Ever since he’d sent her a pink carnation through the school fundraiser on Valentine’s Day. Jazz tried to be supportive of his romances, including this latest one, but didn’t always succeed.

“I think I might love her, Jazzy J. Like this is it, the real deal,” he’d confided a couple days back as the two of them walked home from school arm in arm.

“Love?” She burst into bitter laughter—not very friend-like, but she couldn’t help herself. “How would you even know what love is? And what makes this particular bimbo stand out from the parade?”

Nathan pulled away from her and stood tense on the pavement. “Don’t call her that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Why not? It’s not like she’s here to stay. They never are, Nathan.” She shook her head in a strange mix of both disbelief and lack of surprise.

“Yeah, but Jessica’s different. She’s—”

“Oh, let’s see,” Jazz said, ticking off each trait on her fingers. “She’s pretty, plastic, dull, and dumb. Definitely your type, but you know you never play with your toys for long before returning them to the box.”

“Jazz, stop!” he shouted as she forged ahead. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve never had a problem with my girlfriends before.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” she yelled back, wishing she could just swallow down her feelings for Nathan Reed and keep them buried so they would never be a problem like this again. She wanted to just be his friend and was trying, but even now, months since his birthday, it was…hard.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh, continuing to walk beside her until they reached their houses. Neither said anything more, and a moment later, she was safely enclosed in her house, her front door locked in case Nathan tried to follow her inside.

But he didn’t come, he didn’t follow her in, and she didn’t see him the following day—a Saturday.

Now it was Sunday morning, her birthday and his halfsie. This was a sacred day, the most important holiday between the two of him. The question was: Would Nathan uphold it?

“Come inside. Let me make you breakfast,” Jazz’s mother said, pulling her back to the present moment.

“Mickey Mouse pancakes and Donald Duck scrambled eggs?” Jazz asked with a smile.

“And Pluto bacon,” her mother confirmed. “Now c’mon.”

Jazz tried to assist her mom in preparing their meal, but she refused to accept the help.

“I’m glad your birthday fell on a Sunday this year,” her mom said, cracking an egg into the bright yellow mixing bowl she liked to use for breakfasts. “They’ve been asking me to pick up so much over time lately, I was worried they’d refuse my time off request.”

“I’m thinking of getting a job,” Jazz said, the idea coming to her just then. “Maybe I can help give us a little buffer.”

“Absolutely not.” Jazz’s mother waved a spatula at her, dropping egg goo onto the linoleum below. “It’s my job to provide. It’s your job to be a kid.”

“But Mom, I’m not a kid, not anymore. I’m sixteen.”

“Which is still a kid.”

“What if I got a job to save up for a car, or college?”

“Now that I can get behind.” Her mom wiped up the mess on the floor. “Do you want me to put in a word for you at the store?”

“No offense, Mom, but no. I’ll find my own job.” As much as she loved her mother, Jazz would work hard to make sure she wouldn’t end up like her. Back in the day, her mom had dropped out of college to get married, and now she had neither a loving husband nor a good job. Jazz wanted to have it all, and she knew her mom wanted her to have it, too. That was part of the reason she needed her own car rather than relying on Nathan to take her everywhere. What if they had a falling out? What if she was suddenly left jobless and stranded just like her mom had been all those years ago?

“So confident. Don’t you know we’re in a recession?”

“I’ll figure it out. That’s what adults do, right?”

Her mom left the griddle unattended to give Jazz a kiss on top of her head. “My little grown up. I’m so proud of you.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Now who could that be?” her mother asked, hurrying to answer.

Jazz listened from her place at the table with a mix of anticipation and dread. What if it was him? What if it wasn’t?

“Nathan,” she heard her mom say in surprise. “Why didn’t you just come right in? You’re always welcome here.”

Jazz swallowed a sigh. She couldn’t decide how she felt about him showing up for their long-standing birthday tradition. Would he apologize for what happened on Friday, even though he probably had no idea why she’d gotten so upset? Perhaps he had finally figured out her feelings and had come to tell her that there was no way the two of them could ever be anything more than friends. The possibilities were endless, and thinking of them all made Jazz want to puke up her orange juice.

“Thanks, Mrs. M.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Would you mind if I had a quick moment alone with Jazz?”

Jazz tried to read Nathan’s voice, but he sounded frustratingly normal.

The door shut behind them and two sets of footsteps traced back toward the kitchen as her mother said, “Take her. She’s all yours. I’ll throw some extra cakes on the griddle. Come eat with us when you’re done with your quick moment.”

Jazz pushed her chair back so hard, the legs screeched against the floor, leaving an angry smudge in its wake. Charging through the living room, she pushed Nathan outside onto the front porch. “What do you want?” she whisper-yelled.

“I came to tell you that I broke up with Jessica.”

“What? Just two days ago you were ready to marry her.”

“Yeah, but then I found out my best friend hated her.”

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the stress headache storming inside her brain. She had just turned sixteen, for crying out loud! She shouldn’t be getting stress headaches, especially not from her best friend.

“I don’t hate her,” she argued.

Nathan chuckled softly and wrapped her in a hug. “Yes, you do. And you were right. She is a pretty idiot.”

“Nathan, I did not say that!” she said, hitting him in the chest. “You know I’m a feminist. I would never say that about another girl.”

“I know, I know, but you basically said that. And you’re right. The type of girl I’ve been dating just isn’t right for me. I need someone just as smart as she is pretty. I need someone like…”

This was it, this was it, this was it! “Yes?”

“Like Bethany Goldman. Do you think she’d go out with me?”

Nathan’s words played on loop inside Jazz’s head. By the time she heard him declare his affections for Bethany a fifth time, she still hadn’t come to grips with this particular revelation. How could Nathan want to date somebody so much like Jazz, but not Jazz? It made no sense, and that broke her heart worse than any of the others had.

“Jazz?” Nathan prodded, a sudden lack of confidence twisting his features. “What do you think?”

And there was only one thing Jazz could say. The truth, but not all of it.

“I...think she’d be crazy not to,” Jazz answered, wondering if Nathan would end up falling in love with this one for real—and whether it was better or worse that this girl was different from the others.

Happy Birthday to me, Jazz thought bitterly as Nathan revealed his big plan for sweeping his new love interest off her feet. Maybe the time had finally come to quit wasting all her birthday wishes to ask that something more happen between her and Nathan.

The only person she was kidding, after all, seemed to be herself.