"You didn't have to get me anything," I say, taking it from her. "I know, but this is something I really want you to have." Inside the bag is a small box and I already have a suspicion of what it is. When I open the box, there's a dainty silver ring with a teardrop-shaped gem in the middle. It looks a little worn, but it's perfect. "This is gorgeous," I say, looking at her. "Your grandma gave me that ring for Christmas one year, I think before you were born. She gave your mom a necklace and your mom was always mad because she liked my ring more than she liked her necklace. She would try to trade me with one of her other rings, but I always said no," she explains, smiling. "I hardly ever wear it. I wish I would've given it to her when she asked, but I'm going to give it to you because I know you'll take care of it the way she would have." Her story makes the ring so much more valuable and I slip it on my finger on my right hand. "I love it. Thank you." "And it goes perfectly with your outfit," she winks. There's a knock at the door after I start eating and I make my way to the door. When I open it, Dylan has his back faced to me. He looks different and I notice he isn't wearing his usual white t-shirt. He's wearing dark denim jeans, a plain navy-blue t-shirt, and a pair of gray shoes. When he faces me he says, "Hey, happy birth—" he doesn't finish when his eyes trail down my body shamelessly. I don't feel the need to call him out on it. I smirk knowing he had checked me out. "Happy birthday. You, uh, you look great." "Thanks," I say, smiling. "Come in." He steps inside and my aunt is already opening her arms to hug him. "It's good to see you, Dylan." "You too," he says, hugging her. "Smells good in here." "My aunt's famous chocolate chip pancakes," I tell him. "I wouldn't say famous," she waves her hand. "But I did make enough for you, Dylan." We walk into the kitchen and I move my gift bag out of the way on the counter. I continue to eat while Dylan eats next to me. "I'm gonna have to jet out of here for work," she says, putting the dishes in the sink. She points at us. "No skipping school." I smile and Dylan nods. When she leaves, Dylan looks at me. "She's really nice." "If you like her, you would've really liked my mom," I say, twisting the ring on my finger. "I'd like to know about your parents sometime," he says. His eyes flicker to my ring. "That new?" I nod. "Birthday gift from my aunt." The way he says he wants to know about my parents has my heart swelling. Talking to him about my parents might not be that bad. "Well, enjoy it because that's the only present you're going to get today," he nudges my arm and smirk. "Whatever you say," I nudge him back. I finish what's on my plate and put it in the sink. "I just have to grab my bag." I walk into my room and grab my backpack. A picture of my parents on the wall catches my eye and I stop to look at it. My aunt says I look just like my mom, but everyone always tells me I have more of my dad's features. Grabbing the photo off the wall, I study it carefully. My aunt took the picture when my parents first bought our house. In the photo my parents are standing on the front porch with me on my dad's shoulders. I haven't been to the house since me and my aunt moved everything out. My aunt couldn't afford the mortgage so I couldn't stay there after my parents died. I'm always tempted to drive by it, but I haven't had the heart. "You ready?" Dylan asks, peeking his head into my room. He glances at the photo in my hands. "What's that?" I hand it to him. "These are my parents." His eyes scan the picture and he smiles. "Your mom is pretty. You look like a daddy's girl in this one." My dad was a pushover. He acted tough, but he was a softy. "I guess I was." My voice doesn't sound like my voice and when I blink a tear slides down my face. I try to wipe it without messing up my makeup and without Dylan seeing me. "You okay?" he asks. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be right back." I walk into the bathroom in the hall and make sure my makeup is fine before walking back out. I pick up my bag from the floor and nod at Dylan. "I'm ready." I hang the frame back on the wall and we leave the apartment. When we're at the bottom of the stairs, Dylan puts his hand on the small of my back. "No more tears today, okay?" he asks, giving me a small smile. My heart flutters when his hand leaves my back. I take a deep breath and walk to his car. It's going to be a long day. When we arrive at school, Dylan parks where I usually park next to Casey and she jumps out of her car excitedly. She practically mauls me when I get out of the car. "Happy birthday, best friend!" she exclaims. "Here's to being another year older and another year of being my very best friend."