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On my eighteenth birthday, my parents booked a restaurant that cost about 1,500 dollars a head and invited my whole class. My boyfriend Kevin Miller's childhood friend Lily Winters showed up in the same dress as mine and beat me to blowing out the candles on my nine-tier cake. She made a wish. "I hope Kevin will always be by my side," she said. I was about to call her out when Kevin grabbed my arm and warned, "I arranged this. Don't make a scene if you don't want us to break up. Lily's never had a birthday party. Tonight, I want her to feel like a princess." Anger rose in me, but he ignored it and raised his glass. "Everyone, thank you for coming to celebrate Lily's birthday. Order whatever you want. Everything's on me." I remembered him fretting over a few hundred dollars for his mother's medical bills yesterday. Then I slipped out of the private room. But after the party, my phone flooded with calls from Kevin.