March 31st arrives sooner than I anticipated.

It's a Thursday, and an indifferent one at that.

Cloudy but no rain; cool but not cold; a little bit foggy but not really humid. I wake up thirty minutes before my alarm goes off, which means I lay in bed with my earbuds in for six songs, then turn my phone off and count down the seconds until 6:45. Soon enough, a soft beeping comes from the little plastic box, initiating a tap on the off button from my still-groggy arm. I promptly roll out of bed. I do my best not to wake Jenna (whose first class is at 9:30), but she sleeps like a rock anyway. Force of habit, I guess.

When I make it into the bathroom, I look in the mirror at my now twenty-two-year-old-self.

I turn on the water for a brief shower, then slip on a hoodie and some yoga pants. Too lazy to do my hair right now, I just pull a beanie over it once it's deemed acceptably damp.

Swinging into the little kitchen area, I quickly brew a pot of coffee. I pour some into my travel mug (one that Rose got me in high school when we skipped class to go to a concert; it rained later that day, and is to this day one of my fondest memories; even more so now that we're friends again) and then leave the rest for the people who will wake up after me.

It's Psychology this morning, so I pull on my sneakers and my backpack and begin the hazardous trek to the science buildings.

On my way there, I run into someone. Full-on speedwalk headlong into another human being.

I stumble back, apologies slipping from my mouth like second nature. And I realize the other human being is Rose, who looks like she's basically still asleep. I grab her shoulder to steady her.

"Regretting taking that morning class?" I ask knowingly, teasing her sleepy demeanor.

Rose's eyes shoot open, no doubt surprised that it's me. She takes a deep breath of the sweet-smelling, dew-drenched morning air.

"Mmhmm," she agrees, tapping her foot absentmindedly against the pavement.

Rose never could keep still.

Her energy (even if it is subconscious) spreads to me, and I start bouncing lightly on my heels.

"Hazel!" she says, as if she's just registered that it's me. "What's today?"

"The thirty-first," I offer. Her eyes widen and she throws her arms around me.

"Happy birthday!" I hug her best, breathing in her familiar scent, pleasantly surprised that she remembered.

Then again, I suppose it's still pretty reasonable. I still know her birthday, after all. Along with her parents' and her dog's.

"I actually have something for you ... but I don't have it with me, you see ... I didn't think I would run into you ..." she trails off, looking a little worried. I glance at my phone, which reads 7:19. I look back up at Rose, who looks significantly less sleepy.

"No," I reassure her, "that's completely fine. I didn't think any other people would be up at this time. I'm really sorry, though, but I gotta go. Class in ten, and I'm only halfway there," I say, before starting back off south.

"Good luck," she wishes me.

I usually try and finish my coffee before I get to class, but it doesn't seem like it's gonna happen today.

So the taste of coffee remains in my mouth as I take my seat and accept select people's birthday wishes and write down notes that I won't be able to read later.

Luckily, I'll probably know what they say. I do actually listen to lectures, y'know.

I love psychology: all the things with emotions and behavior and the different sides of the brain and everything. I'd love to go into a career involving it someday.

Maybe I can combine it with my writing dream.

Or maybe they weren't meant to mix. I could do them separately: one a job and the other a hobby.

I just hope at least one of them works out. I have a lot of dreams, but these two have stuck around the longest.

I suddenly come to the realization that my incessant tapping on my mug has annoyed my neighbors, and I stop.

My pen, poised to write, has dipped down to meet the page and bled a hug spot under my notes. I snatch it up, tear the offending paper off, and straighten up in my seat.

When my classes are over for the day, it's one in the afternoon. The sun's made a feeble appearance and now the sky is cloudy but bright.

My second favorite kind of weather.

There's a faint buzz feeling, and when I position my arm to the pocket where my phone is, I find the culprit. There's a text from Jenna.

meet us at the coffee shop??? the one near the other thing and the bikes???

When?

idk man how far are you

Bout twenty mins from there

just get there i guess we'll meet you there we could be a lil late tho

Mkay

So I continue my way north, this time turning on the main road to go on the smaller route.

There are more people out at this time, some looking like this is their equivalent of six A.M.

When I make it to the coffee shop, Annabelle's there. No Jenna and no Jacob, but they'll probably be late. (Jenna likes to be early, but Jacob is really bad at getting out on time, let alone early.)

She's got this pale blue skirt that does down to her knees and a jean jacket and her hair is in this big fluffy knot and a smile that only gets bigger the closer I get to her.

I slide into the booth across from her, and she pushes her feet forward to entangle our legs.

"Happy birthday, Haze."

"Thanks," I beam at her.

"They should be here soon," she says, as if reading my thoughts.

And they were indeed -- about five minutes after this statement, the bell tinkles, and in walk my two best friends, holding hands.

And they come over, Jenna sliding in next to me and Jacob next to Annabelle.

"Happy birthday, babe," Jenna says, pecking me on the cheek and grinning.

"Aw," I say, pretending to blush, "thanks."

One of the very best things about my friends is that they know that I don't like to make a big deal out of events like my birthday, and respect it. They've never tried to change my mind by throwing me a surprise party or anything.

We just have coffee and talk; nothing special, just small talk. Work and the weather, how much Jenna wants a cat, et cetera.

After some time, Jenna brings up what I knew she would.

"So Haze, how about a birthday tattoo?"

And I'm in that mood that either comes when I'm having a really pleasant day or have been listening to music. The mood that makes you want to shout from rooftops and hug people and live life.

So I nod. I have been thinking a lot about it, and I think that I really do want one.

They all look a little surprised, but Jenna nods her head, leaves a twenty for our drinks, and grabs me around the wrist. We follow her out and into Jacob's car.

"Hey, Donnie," Jenna says when she enters. The man just gives a small noise of acknowledgement to not disturb his focus.

And then I'm sitting on this long leather chair, trying to convey to Jenna what I want. We've always been good at understanding what the other means, and now is no exception.

It is pretty painful. But Annabelle and Jacob are there in the room with us, and Annabelle's holding my hand and Jacob's put on twenty one pilots. It could be worse.

It also doesn't take too long: about an hour, though it felt like much longer.

When I look in the mirror, though, it was all worth it.

Our hometown's in the dark is written on the skin behind my right ear in a neat script. It feels almost like a secret, for if I let my hair down it would be invisible.

Annabelle suddenly appears behind me in the mirror, and she brushes her fingers ever so gently over the words, as if making sure they're real. The swollen red skin proves it to her, and a smile takes over her face.

And then we all go back to Annabelle's, where Jacob brings out a suspicious container once I'm seated in my normal spot on her couch.

He pulls away the top and reveals a rainbow cake. It smells amazing, like lemon. Lemon cake is good cake.

"Mmm," I murmur as I breathe it in. "You do know rainbows are gay, right, Jacob? Are you suggesting something about me?" I ask as I wriggle my way into Annabelle's lap and nuzzle my face into her stomach. After about two seconds, I come back out. "I would keep this up, but that smells frickin' amazing, Bean."

"Ah, thank you," he says affectionately, ruffling my hair. I open my mouth in response, and he shoves a piece of cake into it.

So we eat the cake and watch Miraculous on the television. I decide to stay the night, and Jenna and Jacob decide to go back to their dorms.

Before they go, all three of my favorite people tackle me in this big group hug. I feel my heart swell with happiness, and my smile devours my face as they depart, letting themselves out with a "Bon voyage!"

When I'm in Annabelle's bathroom washing my face, she comes up behind me in the mirror again.

I feel a cold, cold thing make its way around my neck as I'm drying my face off, and I shiver involuntarily. But I look, and a sleek silver chain with a small pendant has appeared suddenly.

Upon closer inspection, the pendant is four elegant flower heads. I feel Annabelle's arm slide around my waist and her lips press to my cheek.

"It's beautiful," I breathe.

"I saw something like it, then went to the shop downtown and got it made," she mumbles against my skin. "I thought you might like it."

"I do. Well, actually, I love it. You have great taste. I'd wear this, and I don't really wear that much jewelry."

"I love you, Hazel."

I turn around, go up on my tiptoes, and press my lips to hers sweetly. The taste of lemon cake is still there, as are her arms around my waist. I can feel their pressure through my (her) soft white shirt.

It's been a good birthday. This may rank third, behind my ninth and then my seventeenth.

Nothing extravagant, but that's the way I like it.

a/n: sorry this is late but I'm still shook from seeing panic! like Amelia-Daisy can confirm I was waterworks after like the third song; also if you caught the reference then you get a hug *hug*; also also I'm miraculous trash so yay; also also also what the heck even is this title I think I'm still kind of not functioning properly after that concert