“Apologies,” he says as it closes behind him. He’s carrying a haphazardly frosted white cake. “Happy birthday, Delaney.”
My heart expands. He’d joined us for dinner the other day when Sabine mentioned my birthday. It’s tomorrow, but I wanted to let it pass quietly. Because it’s the first one without my dad, the grief thickens like hardening paste when I think about it for too long. I’d already asked Mr.Kovacs if I could access the lab for a weekend session. I expected him to say no, but he’d agreed. So that’s what I’d planned on doing.
Lionel perks up. “Is thatcake?”
“We’re not allowed to have food outside the dining hall,” I say, but even I can hear the smile in my voice.
William sets it on the desk. “I happen to be very convincing.”
Lionel begins to sing “Happy Birthday,” much to William’s bemusement, which is when we collectively discover he predatesthis specific tradition. After a short rundown, he joins in, adding an extravagant little bow after the final line is sung. It is—unsurprisingly—charming.
Lionel’s peering at the dessert like a dog salivating over an entire roasted turkey. An airy laugh releases between my teeth. “Help yourself.” He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Sumner inches closer to me, a hand tugging the back of his hair, as William does his best to cut through the layers with a plastic knife. I pass Sumner a fork.
His eyes shoot down to the ground. “It’s okay.”
“I know you’re not about to pass on my birthday cake,” I chide as Lionel scoops a gigantic bite into his mouth.
William passes around slices plopped on paper towels. I slip a bite between my lips and let the delicate spongey texture melt on my tongue. It’s sugary and buttery and everything I could ever want in a dessert.
“Do you bake?” I ask as he cuts a slice for himself.
“Heavens, no,” William says. “But the kitchen staff was quite helpful in assisting me through the instructions of boxed cake.”
“It’s perfect,” I assure him.
I’ve never had anyone go to these lengths to make me feel special—other than my family. When I was younger, my dad would blast music as my mom made pancakes from scratch, and Jared used to chase me around to confetti-bomb me with glitter so minuscule it would take several washes to rinse out of my hair.Madelene, of course, always had a special performance—a monologue or song she’d learned. Money was always tight, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
This effort feels meaningful in a different way.
William reaches over and thumbs my cheek. “Frosting,” he explains.
A warm hum zips through my belly and ignites sparklers in my brain. It’s not just the accent. Or the charm. This subtle crush is stretching and expanding far beyond my capacity to contain it.
Sumner clears his throat, averting his gaze. Lionel cuts himself another heaping slice, then says, “Happy birthday, Delaney” through a bite.
“Oh, it’s tomorrow.”
“Which is in two hours,” Sumner says. “Technically.”
William’s phone chimes. He peers down at the screen, mouth frowning with regret. “I’d forgotten the fencing team extended me an invitation to their movie night.”
“Well, we’ve hit another wall until we can piece together the next steps, which require those equations,” Lionel says. “Should we call it?”
Sumner looks between us, face unreadable. “I may stick around longer.”
William insists we should head to movie night with him, but only Lionel agrees. As much as we’ve butted heads and baited each other, I don’t want to leave Sumner here alone. It doesn’t feel right.Besides, I want to prove I can concentrate on reading despite the celebratory interruption.
“I’ll see you at dance lessons on Wednesday, I presume?”
“You’ll want to bring your thickest pair of shoes,” I say. “And ice, probably. Might be similar to waltzing with a blindfolded bull.”
“Doubtful,” William says. “I have faith in you.”
Once they leave, the light rapping of the Expo marker resumes, interrupted occasionally by clicks when Sumner enters numbers in his graphing calculator. The heater’s steady drone provides white noise through our silence. I flip a page in the journal, dipping my fork into the cake and savoring the frosting on my tongue. I can’t tell if it’s the sugar or William’s presence that brings on this full body buzz, but I let myself settle into it. A sliver of joy.
After several minutes, Sumner goes, “Dance lessons?”
