Chapter 41 Birthday Novels & Stories

And just like that, he dropped my arm and his gaze darted to the cake, with a dazzling smile stretching his lips. “It’s yours, beautiful,” “W-what?” His words were enough to make me forget my current situation. “It’s your birthday,” his smile widened but my brows knitted together in confusion. “What’s today’s date?” “November 30th,” “Oh God,” I slapped a palm over my mouth, tears brimming in my eyes. It was truly my birthday. I couldn’t recall the last time someone remembered my birthday. It was always my mom and after she died, there was no one to celebrate with me.

I knocked back the last of my drink and dangled my glass between my fingertips. “Your birthday!” Marla hooted. I just stared at her. Then realisation hit. “Oh, fuck. It is, isn’t it?” “April fourteenth, baby!” She whooped and flailed, spilling her rum and coke all down herself. “So much has happened that I just…”

“What is today's date?” I blinked. “What? Today's date? I…” “Go on, tell me. What is today?” My fists clenched. “I do not—” “March 24th, Calista. Think.” He snapped his fingers in my face, and I froze solid, eyes wide as it hit me in waves. “Today…it is my…oh god…” My throat felt dry. “Your birthday Calista.” His voice dipped, “your day, and you did not even remember.”

Jace was constantly nudging me to mark her before she dissappear but somehow I shove him behind. I need to come back into my senses and also need her approval before taking an impulsive step for which I might regret. "Felicity Brown and I am here to celebrate my 21th birthday with my friends."She exclaimed with excitement when she told me the reason for her clubbing. "Oh its your birthday,happy birthday Felicity,nice name I must say."I forwarded my hand for a shake. "Thanks Alexander."She merrily shook my hand sending electric sensation in my body.I never felt it with Olivia.

Cassandra grumbled, then she strutted inside the club too. Katherine stayed put in the car park for a minute. She was enjoying the cool air on the hot night. “What is going on between my friends?” She asked herself. Earlier she glimpsed a bench beside the bar when Cheryl was kissing Marla. With her eyes closed, she walked up to the bench, squeezing the bridge of her nose to ease her headache. It was midnight, and officially her birthday. She was born on August 24th at the stroke of midnight. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” she sighed, sitting down on the bench.

I reach for my phone to check the actual date when Nate precedes me, saying, “It’s the 24th of January. We should celebrate.” I take a deep breath. The 24th of January. I repeat it in my head again and again—my birth date. I never could’ve guessed. And I’ve been guessing all my life. “I don’t know. This feels weird,” I answer, brows still creased in confusion. I always knew that my birthday was almost certainly not in November, but it was nice that we chose the first snow day. “Well, I already told Jenny and Eleanor. Your friends are coming to your place after work,” he replies, face scrunching up.

"My body disagrees. Everything hurts in the morning." "Everything hurts in the morning because you're chasing a ten-month-old around all day. That's not age. That's parenting." Riley's fortieth birthday came in November. Samuel threw her a party despite her protests. "I don't want a party." "Too bad. You're getting one." It was a good party. Friends and family, food and wine, a cake that said "40 and Fabulous" that made Riley roll her eyes. "You're forty!" Sarah announced, slightly drunk. "Welcome to the club."

“Have you forgotten what day it is today?” Stanley Batton asked. Xyla Quest immediately took her phone out and checked the time… It was 1st of April, her birthday. Xyla had been so busy recently that she had actually forgotten her birthday. Although she had forgotten all about it, Stanley clearly remembered it. “I forgot…” Xyla said. “Silly girl. Happy birthday,” Stanley said and ruffled her head gently before holding her hand tightly. Peach blossom petals fell on top of their heads, shoulders, and their shoes like snowflakes.

I blurt, stepping back from her slightly manic expression. “Happy birthday,” she says, loud enough that half the corridor looks over. “What are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely blank. Sienna blinks like I’ve insulted her ancestors. “Oh my god, Zahra. Today’s April 16th. It’s your birthday.” “Oh. Right.” I manage a smile. Birthdays aren’t exactly a thing at my house. Sienna and Abby are the only ones who ever acknowledge it. She starts singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” and I clamp my hand over her mouth.

She remained silent, her eyes fixed greedily on the cards on the table. Then she picked one up, caressed it, and asked me what the PIN was. I stared at her face, watching it flush with excitement. "My birthday," I said coldly. She looked at me and then muttered, "Zero-one-zero-four," repeatedly, oblivious to my lowered gaze. "Mommy, my birthday has never been January 4th. "My shoe size is six. I don't like spicy food. I'm allergic to milk, which makes me break out in hives. And January 4th isn't my birthday.