Her Soilder，His Brother

My phone screen lit up. Then went dark. Then lit up again.

I didn't bother checking the notification. I already knew what it wasn't.

Last call from Dad? Three days ago. Mom? Two weeks — and only because she needed my social security number for some insurance form.

The most recent call came two hours ago. Jessie, breathless and excited, telling me he had to go to some "important party" and couldn't make our date.

He didn't say happy birthday. Neither of them did. No text. No post. Not even a stupid emoji.

Nineteen. Today. And apparently the whole world had forgotten.

I flipped the phone face-down on the couch and let out a breath that felt heavier than it should. What was I even hoping for? A miracle? Some sudden rush of parental love I'd been missing since the divorce?

I should've been used to it by now. Being invisible. Being an afterthought. The oh-right-Nina-exists moment that never actually came.

The doorbell rang.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. My hand flew to my face, wiping at tears I hadn't realized were there, before I stumbled to the door.

"Surprise!"

Jessie stood there grinning like the sun, holding a cake almost too big for one person. A tiny fondant ballerina sat on top, arms frozen in a perfect arabesque. Behind him, seven or eight people exploded out like a human jack-in-the-box — Lily, some classmates, someone waving balloons, someone else firing confetti cannons. Pink and gold streamers rained down on my hair, my shoulders, my bare feet.

I froze. Just... stopped.

One by one, they hugged me. "Happy birthday!" rang in my ears. The cake was pressed into my hands. Jessie's smile was blinding.

"Happy birthday, my Nina."

My throat tightened. "I thought you were at some amazing party?"

His eyes sparkled. "Your birthday party. What's more amazing than that?"

I tried to smile. I really did. "Thank you. I'm... I'm so surprised. This is — this is great."

Not everyone had forgotten.

At least Jessie remembered. And he'd done all this. The cake, the people, the noise.

We went inside. Lily and the others had already covered the coffee table with fried chicken and pizza, beer and champagne bottles lined up like soldiers. They sang — loudly, off-key, perfectly. I closed my eyes, made a wish I didn't quite believe in, and cut the cake.

Then the doorbell rang again.

"Who else is coming?" I asked.

"I'll get it." Jessie jogged to the door.

I was reaching for a slice of cake to hand him when I looked up.

A girl walked in. Blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Red dress so short it barely counted as clothing. Flawless makeup. She hugged Jessie like they'd known each other their whole lives, then made her way toward us.

"Sorry, traffic was awful. I'm late."

Linda.

My stomach turned to ice. Out of everyone in Miami, in the entire state of Florida, in the world — Linda Miller.

She was Jessie's "friend." She was also my classmate at the pre-professional ballet program. My rival. The girl who had made my life hell from day one.

The room went quiet. You could hear the confetti settling on the floor.

Nobody understood why Jessie would invite her. I didn't understand why. He knew. He knew how much I hated her.

Linda crossed the room in heels that cost more than my monthly groceries. She wrapped her arms around me, all warmth and fake sweetness, her perfume so strong I nearly choked.

"Darling, happy birthday. I picked this out ages ago. Hope you love it."

I didn't take the gift. The high I'd been riding — the surprise, the joy, the feeling that maybe I wasn't completely alone — hit a wall so hard I felt it in my teeth.

Jessie took the gift from me and slid his arm around my waist. "Please, babe? She's here to celebrate. Truce for today?"

I looked into his eyes. Those warm, pleading eyes. I gave in. Like I always did.

"Okay. As long as she doesn't start anything."

He'd remembered my birthday. He'd planned all of this. I could be the bigger person for one night. Right?

Linda didn't seem bothered by my cold shoulder. She blended into the crowd like she'd been invited all along. Laughing too loud. Touching people's arms. Until her hand landed on Jessie's new action camera.

"Don't —"

I didn't even finish the sentence. Linda's grip "slipped." The camera hit the hardwood floor. The lens shattered into a spiderweb of glass and regret.

I lunged for it, but the damage was done. "Look what you did!" Fury shot up my throat. "You know what? You're not welcome here. Get out of my party."

Jessie appeared at my side, drink in hand, voice soft and careful. "Babe, we said truce. Remember?"

I held up the broken camera. "She smashed your camera."

"It's just a camera, Nina."

Just a camera.

I stared at him. At this boy I'd given everything to. And suddenly his face looked like a stranger's.

That camera? I'd won a regional competition the year before. Every dollar of prize money went toward buying it for him. For Christmas.

"Okay." I smiled. It felt like my lips were cracking. "Sure."

I set the broken pieces on the table. Grabbed my phone. My backpack. Walked through the crowd like I was moving through water, opened the door, and stepped out into the humid Miami night.

"Nina, wait —" Jessie chased after me and caught my wrist. "It's your birthday party. You can't leave."

"Then make her leave."

He looked helpless. "I can't just kick out a friend —"

"I wanted a party with the people I love. That's it. That's all." My voice shook. "You know how much I hate her."

Jessie sighed. "Nina, maybe... maybe you're reading too much into her."

My heart actually hurt. Like someone had reached in and squeezed it. "Jessie. She injured me last year. She made me miss the Spring Gala. I had a ninety-seven at preliminaries. I had the invitation. She destroyed everything. And now she's your friend?"

Silence. The kind that went on too long.

"That's in the past," he said quietly.

In the past. While I spent the last twelve months in physical therapy, rebuilding my ankle, rebuilding my life. All while he was making friends with the girl who'd wrecked it.

"Forget it. You never understand."

I turned and walked. Fast. Toward the Metrorail station. The streetlights blurred. My chest burned.

Jessie was a good person. He really was. He remembered birthdays. He sat with me when I cried.

But he didn't understand what the Spring Gala meant. He didn't understand what Linda had taken from me. He didn't understand that some things don't just get left "in the past" because it's convenient.

He called my name. I didn't turn around. I walked faster.

My mind was a tornado. Noise and static and anger. I stormed through the station entrance without looking up, without slowing down, and slammed straight into what felt like a wall.

Not a wall. A person.

A man. Tall. Broad. Solid as concrete.

I bounced back, my forehead cracking against something hard. My vision went white.

"What the —" The voice was low. Furious. "Watch where you're going."

I looked up. And up.

Dark eyes. A jawline cut from stone. Black leather jacket that said don't come near me. Everything about him radiated danger and control and barely held-back rage.

He looked down at me like I was something he'd stepped in.

And in his hands — what was left of them — were the shattered pieces of a porcelain unicorn.