The party thrummed around us - fragile laughter, clinking glasses, a playlist that tried too hard to be jaunty. I was planted on the living-room couch, one eye on the cake that would not stop trying to be dramatic and the other on Kaelin, who had somehow managed to look both bored and annoyingly immaculate. Ana had chosen a blue dress so glitter-drenched it looked like a nightclub had barfed sequins up her sleeves. The kind of outfit that announces itself before the person does. I wanted to crawl under the cushions.

If Kaelin hadn't been here, I swear I would have walked straight out. Two shits would have been my exit strategy and I would've been long gone. Having my stalker as my boyfriend wasn't the most comforting circumstance. It wasn't the most interesting, either, but it did guarantee I wouldn't fall asleep during Ana's birthday. Small mercies, I guess.