Page 65 of The Trouble With Us

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And no fucking Crazy Annie in sight. Though I’m sure she’ll hear all about it after her shift at the hospital and punish Gabe accordingly. I hate that he’s still with her.I hate that he’s not mine.

“I hate birthdays!” I pronounce loud and proud. “And I hate other people. I don’t want anyone celebrating the fact that I’m old.”

“Come on.” He chuckles, grabbing my hand and leading me up the street. “Let’s get you home before you qualify for a pension.”

We walk Ocean Front hand in hand. Restaurants and bars are still brimming with people and the boardwalk is packed. “What time is it, what the hell are all of these people doing out so late?”

“It’s just after nine?”

“P.M.?”

Gabe chuckles. “Yeah, Freckles, p.m.”

“Oh god, I really am old. Why did you let us leave the restaurant so early?”

We walk up the stairs to my apartment and I fumble with my keys. Gabe tries to take them off me, but I swat him away and slide the key in the lock.

“Surprise!” Everyone jumps out. I scream and almost go down in a heap, laughing so hard at how good they got me.

I turn into Gabe, burying my face in his chest. “You knew I wanted a party even when I said I didn’t?”

His big arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight. “Don’t I always know what you want?”

I nod and rise up on my tiptoes, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Dash.”

His laughter in my ear is deep, warm, and delicious. “Love you too, Freckles.”

He lets go of my hand as I lunge forward and hug Clementine. “Oh my god, I thought you were working tonight?”

My roommate squeezes me back. “Nope, I’ve been right here doing all this.”

I glance at the room and the nineties-grunge vibe from the Nirvana and Pearl Jam posters lining the walls to everyone’s outfits.

“I’m not in costume,” I wail.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Clem points her finger up and down. “This is definitely a look you’ve got going on here.”

I cringe. “Panda eyes?”

“Yeah, but they totally go with the theme.”

“I’m drunk,” I stage whisper.

“I know.” Clem laughs, exaggerating the words. “Look, go mingle. I’m gonna fix you some coffee to sober you up.”

“I love you, Clementine.”

“I love you too, babe. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

I’m swarmed by people wanting to wish me a happy birthday, Judah from work is here, as well as Clementine’s current squeeze Tony—who looks an awful lot like Tommy—as well as the rest of the guys from Gabe’s parlor. Even Gabe’s friend Bình is here. Mace approaches with a drink in his hand and I throw my arms around him in a vigorous hug. “Mace!”

“Hey, Lo. Jesus, he didn’t waste a second in getting you sloshed, did he?”

“Gabe?” I lean against him and whisper conspiratorially, “He drinks too much. It’s really becoming a problem. Wait, where is Gabe? Are you here to see him about work?”

He laughs. “Did you two bong on before coming here?”


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