Happy Birthday Read Online Free

began. The girls were being girls and imagining what we had done back there. The guys – except for BJ, who was whistling with the girls – just looked at me as if saying “tonight’s the night!”
    “Seriously, thank god you arrived, K, because Douglas have been a little shit all day,” said James, holding Suz even closer.
    “As if you were any different after two or three months away from the whitey,” retorted Mike. As one of the only singles in our big group of close friends, I think he had the authority to speak about it.
    “Guys, what do you say of bringing the cake and beer home and staying there?” I suggested, aware that everybody would get the hint.
    “Sure,” Lana said, promptly standing up. “I’m dying to crash on your couch.”
    Everybody quickly started to stand up and get ready to go; Tim was already on the phone with the owner of a liquor store where he would stop to buy some packs of beer.
    When we were leaving the pub, with Kirsten a few steps ahead of me, I realized that two girls were coming towards us, timid and smiling.
    “We’re sorry to bother you, but could you give us autographs?” one of them started, handing us a napkin.
    “Sure,” Kirsten answered, taking the paper napkin and signing her name, while the other girl gave hers to me. She didn’t stop staring at me and looked kind of funny that way.
    Every time fans stopped me on the street, or when I attended events where I have direct contact with them, I always put myself in the other person’s shoes, based on what I can see of their personalities.
    In the beginning, I admit I was scared to meet people who said they were in love with me and my work, crying copiously right in front of me, but then I remembered I too had idols and that a similar situation could happen to me, if or when I met them.
    “What’s your name?” I asked to the one who was staring at me, who must have woken from the daydream she was in and answered trembling: “It’s Chloe.” Then she said “Oh my god” quietly to herself. “Happy birthday.”
    “Thank you. I will have one,” I said, looking at Kirsten, while we exchanged napkins.
    I asked the other girl’s name and she said it was Cinthya. She was more outgoing than her friend was, although I could see she was a little nervous as well.
    “Could my boyfriend take a picture of you with us?” Cinthya asked.
    “Yeah,” I said, and they quickly gave a camera to a slim and tall boy with some acne on his face, but still good-looking, whom I had not realized was near.
    When Kirsten and I hugged them and the nameless boyfriend took the picture they promptly said they would wait for us to leave before posting it online, something I appreciated very much.
    Then they said their thanks and goodbyes and I hold Kirsten’s hand, chastely kissing her hand while we left the pub to meet the others in the parking lot.
    Like I thought it would happen, the first thing she did when getting home was taking her shoes off, and then, after staying in the shower for fifteen minutes, she came back to the living room wearing one of my t-shirts and shorts that were almost invisible underneath the t-shirt. When I told her exactly what I was thinking, Kirsten, with that naughty smile only she could give, asked me to wait for my gift a little bit longer.
    Yes, she wanted to kill me before thirty.
    Our house is a place to where our friend have free access and do not need to feel bad for moving through it, but – apart the occasional trip to the kitchen to get more beer – everybody was around the small coffee table with the cake on it, already missing some pieces and the dogs around feeling completely at home.
    Kirsten told me how she had managed to come back home to my birthday, and how everyone, even my parents, had helped her.
    I looked at her eyes and saw the brightness in them, how she almost closed them when somebody said something funny, and how that meant she loved being there. Then I instantly felt guilty for