Birthdays were always a big deal for Cami.

The cupcakes, the streamers, the wigs. Sometimes Virginia would send scarves and shoes that she'd gathered from the previous night's performance. Cami would wear orange (the color of luck and monkeys), and her guests would take turns trying on the colorful heels.

When she turned 19, Cami set her sights on Atlantic City. The lights, the chips, the taffy... it was the stuff dreams were made of, and she would drive there with her friends on a large grey bus.

Once Bryn turned the bus into the parking lot, Cami knew something was amiss. A cold wind left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Cami asked Priscilla—begged her—to give back the pink slick leggings, but she refused. It was a chill like Cami had never felt before. 11:59pm.

The next morning, Cami ordered Eggs Florentine, the kind Lonna used to make, and wandered about the beach. It was a salty day, and her friends had left to go play jacks on the veranda. Someone offered Cami a wool shawl (it may have been Meg), but the damage had been done. 'Eighteen next year,' Cami thought. 'And I shall wear my aqua blue pintuck skirt.'


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