I tell him, and he fetches the skates, holding them out. After snatching them from his grasp, I march to the edge of the rink and sit down on the ground to slide them on. Tying up the laces, I ignore the pounding in my skull. I’ll be damned if I can’t enjoy my own birthday. Once I’ve got the skates fastened to my feet, I use the railing to pull myself into a standing position, feeling a little wobbly. I prepare to step inside the rink, determined, before fingers encircle my arm gently, stopping me in my tracks.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Mason Byrne stands next to me, maintaining his grip as he raises a dubious eyebrow.

“You came,” I say, unable to hide the awe in my voice.

He releases me. “Kind of a weird party for a girl with a head injury.”

“No kidding.”

“And yet . . .” he trails off meaningfully, looking down at the skates on my feet.

Embarrassment floods my cheeks at my apparent stupidity, and I shake my head as I back away from the railing. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” I pause. “I wanted to participate in my party, but I don’t think it was ever mine to begin with.”

“Everyone in this town has ulterior motives,” he says, laughing bitterly. “I’m sure you’re catching onto that very quickly.”

Reaching down, I untie my skates, slide them off, and tuck them under my arm. Mason follows me back to the counter, and a jolt of adrenaline accompanies me. I’m happier than I should be about the fact that he was even willing to come tonight. And that he hasn’t left yet. After our talk in the hallway, my expectations were low.

“Still,” I say as the strobe lights dance across his features. “I’m glad you’re here. Misery loves company.”

Silence filled by the overbearing thrum of the music falls over us as we stand next to the counter at the edge of the room, watching everyone else have the time of their lives. In the middle of the rink, Parker holds Audrey’s hands as she skates with uncertainty, keeping her upright. James schmoozes a group of girls as Damien looks on, unimpressed. Zoe is with the boy from earlier.

It’s like we’re invisible, nothing more than ghosts hovering on the outskirts. I wonder if it’s just the hazy lighting of the rink or if I always felt like no one ever truly saw me. Maybe that’s why I liked being on stage. It would’ve forced people to acknowledge me.

After a while of random people from school coming up to give me their insincere birthday greetings, Mason turns to me, bending closer to my ear. “Do you want to go outside?”

“Definitely.”