It’s my birthday. Our birthday. And she knew the reason she was sitting alone.

All their friends from school had wandered off into the backyard to play in the hot tub while Tanvi was in the bathroom, and no one, not even Nitya, had bothered to come back for her. Even Mom and Dad hadn’t noticed she wasn’t outside.

She knew what Mom would say: go join them instead of feeling sorry for herself. Tanvi got up and opened the sliding door. Fine, she’d go outside, but she’d feel sorry for herself, too.

Then she heard it: “She still wets the bed? Are you kidding?”

Her breath froze. Nitya had told them Tanvi’s secret.

The humiliating thing Tanvi still couldn’t admit happened the other night after she’d woken from a bad dream. She’d been afraid to go to the bathroom—monsters crawled in the dark—but she couldn’t hold it, either.

Dad had washed the sheets, and Mom had put in a night-light and promised it wasn’t a big deal. But Tanvi was still so ashamed.

The betrayal gutted her, splaying her insides everywhere. It left her furious and hurt and confused and so small. Why would Nitya do this?

“Oh, my God,” someone yelled, “I would die!”

“What a baby!”

Tanvi waited for Nitya to defend her. To tell those “friends” they were being jerks.

“I know, right?” Nitya giggled, then lowered her voice. “But you can’t tell anyone, okay? I mean it.”

Something in Tanvi broke.

She glanced over at the pile of presents on the card table Dad had set up a few feet from the regular one. Presents should be exciting. She should be thrilled. But all she could think of was how her supposed friends were laughing at her.

The whole school would know by Monday. Sooner if they were already texting.

The sound of more giggles and shrieks filtered in from the backyard through the open sliding door. Tanvi wanted to slam it shut, but that would only get her in trouble.

She settled for clawing out a chunk of the cake with her bare hand. It felt sticky and wrong and awesome. Then she crammed the cake into her mouth.

Gross; of course she’d gotten the vanilla part. Why did Nitya insist on a marbled cake just because their friends liked it? It was their cake, no one else’s.

Tanvi went to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. Something on the counter caught her eye. Nitya’s charm bracelet.

The jump ring on Nitya’s new daisy charm had broken that morning when Dad tried to attach it to the bracelet. He’d promised to fix it before the party. But he hadn’t gotten around to it, which meant Mom would probably be breaking out the needle-nose pliers soon.

Nitya loved that bracelet. She wore it everywhere.