My Jelly-bean: hurry up before your mum starts another prayer circle.
I snort.
Me: give it 2 min.
My Jelly-bean: she already prayed twice.
I check the mirror.Adjust my jacket. Smooth down my hair. I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous.
But this feels different.
I step out of the car and lock it, shoving my hands in my pockets to avoid the cold air as I walk up the path. I can already hear music bleeding through the door.
I take a breath and open the door.
“—AND ANOTHER THING?—”
“SURPRISE!”
The shout hits me all at once. Confetti cannon, balloons. My dad clapping like he personally trained me. Aunties screaming my name. Someone blows a party horn directly in my ear.
I jerk back on instinct, then force a grin.
“Oh wow,” I deadpan. “Didn’t see this coming at all.”
Mum swats my arm. “Come inside!”
I step fully in and immediately start scanning the room for Jelly.
She’s standing near the drinks table with Za and her mum.
Our eyes meet.
There’s a private flicker there. We agreed to act normal until we were ready but I'm counting the seconds.
Mum pulls me into a tight hug before I can move.
“I am so proud of you,” she says into my shoulder.
“Thank you, Ma.”
Dad grips my hand. “You made them look small.”
“I always do.”
Now, it’s time for my performance. Hug aunties. Shake hands. Thank uncles. Nod at neighbours who suddenly remember I used to kick a ball against their fence.
All the while I’m hyperaware of where she is.
She’s laughing at something Za says. She looks relaxed, but I know her well enough now to see the tension in her shoulders.
Za.
My sister is the real hurdle. Once we talk to her, Frankie will relax again.
Eventually, I drift toward them like it’s accidental. Her mum excuses herself with a polite ‘congrats’ before escaping to the other side of the room. Not before she eyes me up and down.
I wonder if Frankie told her about us.
