The noise hit Selene first—a wall of Top 40 music, shrieking laughter, and the clink of soda cans. The air in Ava’s sunroom was thick with the scent of sugar, cheap perfume, and the warm, buttery smell of popcorn. Streamers dangled from the ceiling, and those glittery ‘18’ balloons bobbed near the sliding glass doors. For a single, suspended breath, it was perfect. Normal. A bubble of human celebration.
“SELENE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
A crowd of faces, some familiar from school, some Ava’s extended friend group, turned toward her. A ragged, enthusiastic cheer went up. Ava, beaming, was immediately at her side, pulling her into the throng. Hands patted her back, voices shouted well-wishes. She smiled, nodded, accepted a red plastic cup she had no intention of drinking from. The human rhythm of
