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clearly distracted. Her gaze and her thoughts were someplace else.
    “So I told them I wasn’ t going to take out the pirates,” I said experimentally. “I’m more flexible about the pink elephants, but if I can’t have a big sword fight, then I’ll walk.”
    Troian made another noise of agreement and nodded, but failed to com ment on the absurdity of what I’d just said. She clearly wasn’t listening to me.
    “What’s so interesting over there?” I asked, finally giving up on the conversation.
    “Nik is getting hit on.”
    I twisted in my seat and spotted Nikole at the front register ordering her drink from our usual barista, Tony. He was your typical hipster coffee shop employee with interesting facial hair and a plunging v-neck. All that body hair must have been a health-code violation, but Del Sol was a little bit of a dive and nobody cared.
    “You always think that ,” I laughed, turning back to my friend.
    “Because it’s the truth,” Troian scowled.
    Nikole returned to our seating area and sat at a vacant leather recliner. When she set her paper cup on the coffee table to take off her scarf and jacket, Troian made an unpleasant sound.
    “See? What did I tell you ?” Troian’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think the phone number on the side of her cup leads to a customer service survey.”
    “Oh, it’s just Nik,” I dismissed. “She collects crushes like they’re Pokémon Cards.”
    Troian wasn’t exactly the jealous type. She trusted her girlfriend explicitly. But I knew she didn’t trust the rest of the world to maintain their distance.
    “I would like to punch that kid in his giant Adam’s apple,” she said in a quiet, serious tone that almost had me convinced.
    “Simmer down, lady,” I cautioned. “Tony’s harmless.”
    “Yeah, he will be when I castrate him.”
    Nikole made a shushing noise. “Don’t mind her; she’s all bark, but no bite.”
    “That’s not what you said last night.” Troian sat back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest.
    “ Anyway .” Nikole raised her voice to change the topic. Troian had no problem advertising their sexual exploits, but I knew that Nikole was a bit more reserved, even if it was just me. “So someone’s got a big birthday coming up,” Nikole not so innocently observed.
    “God. Don’t remind me,” I groaned.
    “Why are you so weird about your birthday?” Troian asked, although I didn’t think she expected a forthcoming answer. “I’m still mad at you that you didn’t let us do anything for you last year when you turned thirty.”
    “I just don’t like birthdays,” I explained with a shrug. “I don’t like all the attention.”
    “Does Hunter know?” Nikole asked.
    “ No. And she doesn’t need to know,” I threatened.
    “ Well, now she does.” Troian beamed proudly. My stomach dropped when I saw her phone in her hands.
    My own phone immediately chirped with an incoming text message from Hunter: “Your birthday is TOMORROW? Why am I just hearing this, and from Troi?”
    I made a frustrated noise and shoved my phone in my bag so I didn’t have to look at it. “Why do you do these things to me?” I complained.
    “You’re ridiculous,” Troian clucked. “Who doesn’t like birthdays?”
    “Just wait until you’re an old lady like me,” I grumbled.
    “ Right. Because you’re a total hag at the ripe old age of 31.” Nikole shook her head.
    Thirty one. God, when had that happened? I had never understood those women who stopped aging and just kept celebrating their 29th birthday over and over again; or not until it happened to me, at least. But I honestly didn’t feel a day over my mid-twenties. If only the date on my birth certificate agreed. I’d made my two best friends promise not to do anything over the top for my thirtieth birthday, and I would make sure my thirty-first birthday was the same.
    “This isn’ t a Hunter thing, is it?” Troian asked. “Are you gonna be super weird this year