Page 97 of Lessons in Chemistry

“The suspense is killing me. Why are we here?” Auggie asks.

“It’s Em’s birthday on Thursday.”

“It is? He didn’t say anything.”

“He doesn’t like people making a fuss of him. But I figured you should know and thought you might like to look for presents together. Or maybe we could look for something we can give him together.” Is that a weird suggestion to make?

Auggie grins. “I’d like that. Thanks.”

“You would?”

“Yes, I think it’s a great idea.”

I breathe out. “Great. Uh, let’s go.”

We walk side by side out of the bus station. Auggie’s fingertips graze against mine. I should pull away, but I don’t want to.

“Why doesn’t Emory like people making a fuss of him on his birthday?”

“He never has done. He’s always preferred the day to be low-key. It’s who he is.”

“What about you?”

“I had parties most years in primary school, but once I got to high school, I preferred to do something casual with a handful of friends.”

“Like?”

“Go to the cinema, or order pizza and watch films. That kind of thing.” I nudge his shoulder with my own. “What about you?”

“My birthday is during term time, so I was at boarding school. We tended to make a fuss of each other on birthdays because we were all in the same boat.”

“How?”

“We’d decorate the dorm and use our allowance to buy extra sweets and a cake so we could have a party during free time. Once we were in sixth form and were allowed to leave school grounds on our own, we’d go out for a meal or bowling.”

My heart aches for him. Even though it sounds like he had fun, I can’t imagine my family not being there on my birthday. Even now they’ll insist on seeing me as close as possible to the actual day.

“John Lewis?” Auggie asks, pointing at the large department store across the road.

I shake my head. “I don’t think we’ll find anything for Em there.”

“Probably not. We need to find some nerdy gifts. Isn’t there a gift store-type place in Trinity?”

“That’s where I was thinking of going.”

“Great minds think alike.”

I smile.

“How did you two meet? I know you’ve been friends for years, but there must be a story behind you becoming friends.”

I tilt my head. “There must?”

“There’s always a story.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Tell me yours.”