Monica had stopped at the closest gas station to her apartment. As she was filling up her tank, she got one text message right after the other. The first was from her mother wishing her a happy birthday. Nothing from her father. The second was from her boyfriend, Owen.

Happy Birthday, babe. Meet me at the tavern?

She let out a sigh and responded.

Thanks, babe. I gotta head home and change. Gimme 20.

She screwed the cap of her gas tank shut and went inside the station to pay. She really did not feel like celebrating her birthday around a bunch of people that evening. Turning twenty-seven was not that big of a deal. She could not remember the last time she and Owen went out on a real date.

She pulled into her apartment complex and put her heavy tote bag onto her shoulder. It was full of construction paper and other supplies from the daycare. She had been commissioned earlier in the week by Astrid to make cut-out puppets celebrating next week's theme of the number 3.. She had already completed The Three Little Pigs and had Three Blind Mice and Goldilocks and the Three Bears to finish. She liked the extra work because it helped fill up her mind.

Monica gripped her keys in her hands as she stood in front of her doorway. The door was slightly ajar having already been opened. It was dark in the apartment. All the blinds were shut and no lights were on. Owen almost always left a light on as he would leave the apartment in a frenzy getting to wherever he was going to that day.

"Hello?" she asked the dark.

Monica felt someone was there even though she couldn't see anything inside. A loud "SUPRISE!" was echoed back to her and all the lights were switched on. Her knees buckled a tad beneath her, but she was quick to plant a smile on her face before anyone noticed as she brought her shaking hand to her chest.

"Happy Birthday, Monny!"

Owen came to her side and took her keys and bag from her as he kissed her cheek. Every single person in their apartment came up to Monica and gave her a hug. There were about twenty of them. One of them gave her some kind of mixed drink that smelled like pineapple and the last person landed a huge, wet kiss on her lips. His teeth bumped into hers. She excused his behavior, though. He was already past drunk and well onto being wasted at 6 o' clock in the evening.

"Happy Birthday, darlin'!"

"Thank you, Scooter," she said after wiping her mouth. "How long have you been here exactly?"

Scooter looked around him and squinted at the other guests and then his eyes fell upon Owen for an answer. He was Owen's best friend since grade school. Pretty much everywhere that Owen went, Scooter went, too.

Owen helped his buddy out. "Babe, he's been with me since three or so helping with decorations and putting out the party food and calling everyone making sure they'd get here on time."

In a more hushed tone, Owen put his arm around her waist and asked, "Did I make a bad choice?"

When Owen's eyes warmed up like that they reminded her of the first time he bought her a drink.

Monica lied and shook her head. "I love it, babe. Thank you. Take care of Scooter, though, tell him to slow it down. We've got the whole night ahead of us."

"Right," he said. He shoved his dark brown hair behind his ears and absentmindedly adjusted one of the rings on his fingers. "Your birthday fell on a Friday this year. I had to take advantage. I'll go look in the fridge for a Red Bull for our party boy."

"There should be a few in the back."

"Thanks, babe. Happy Birthday. I love you."

"I love you, too." She was sure of that.

When Owen left her side, Scooter saddled up beside her and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, dude. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I know I am impaired," he said doing air quotes with his fingers, "but I'm not stupid, darlin'. Tell me, what weighs on your lonely heart?"

The first thing she thought of was Astrid. The gentle squeeze on her shoulder. Her hair unraveling from its knot on top of her head as she told Monica she hoped she would have a great time.

She really wanted to have a great time and she was not interested in one of Scooter's drunken therapy sessions. He was actually studying psychology at college but then dropped out to dedicate more of his time to his cover band, The Sun Also Rises.

"Scooter, I'm fine. It's my birthday. Y'all have thrown a party for me. What do I have to be sad about?"

"Hey, now, I didn't even use that word. Sad. C'mon, there's--"

Owen appeared with a Red Bull and cracked it open for his friend. "There ya go, Scoot. Sip on this and take it easy on the beers, will ya?"

Owen wrapped his arms around Monica and whisked her off to the dance floor--their living room with the couch and coffee table shoved to one side. Scooter watched the pair dance as he drank the energy drink and sat down on the floor. He rocked his head to the music and self-consciously patted down the cowlick at the front of his sun-bleached hair. He tried peeking beneath girl's skirts as they danced or walked past him. He was slapped accordingly.

By the time Monica had drunk all of her pineapple drink with her favorite berry-flavored rum in it, she was handed another drink and soon saw the positives of the evening appear before her.

First, her apartment smelled a lot better than the tavern. Second, she had not seen all of her old friends from college under the same roof in years. Third, Owen was looking really good in the shirt she had bought him at the thrift store the other week.

He had the sleeves rolled up and paired it with his jeans that did not have holes in them--the ones they jokingly referred to as his fancy pair.

She felt the warmth of the liquor and the beat of the song fill her up. Owen's hands on her body made her skin feel as if it was between dimensions. It was flickering back and forth awaiting their time together and alone in their apartment later on.

After she had given everyone a hug goodbye and made sure those few that had stayed were alright--including a snoring Scooter on the couch--she threw away some empty beer cans and plastic cups with Owen's help.

Her boyfriend swayed a bit to the side and tripped over his own bare feet as they walked into their bedroom and shut the door behind them. Monica giggled. Owen took her pants off. They didn't make it to the bed. Instead, they made love on the floor with the glow of the television on their faces.