o much has happened in such a short time that I somehow forget it's my birthday. As soon as I stir, Mom is at my bedside with a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and waffles, accompanied by a card and some cupcakes.

"Happy eighteenth birthday!" she says.

My grin is so big that it takes up most of my face. Not because I'm particularly excited about turning eighteen, but because I am officially old enough to ride in the tournament. There wont be any drama like there was with the qualifying rounds, no loopholes to jump through; winning feels closer than ever.

"Thanks," I say, scooping up some of the syrup with my finger, "you're not throwing me a party, are you?" My mother is renowned for throwing surprise birthday parties. From my first birthday to my seventeenth, I have always received an unwanted party – this year will be no exception.

"Of course not," she says, but she does a terrible job of hiding her smile, "I'm sure you're too old for a surprise party."

"Good," I say, "because you know I hate surprises. Plus, everyone is going to Mojacks tonight."

"Uh-huh," she says, but she's barely even listening. She's just looking at me in this sad, nostalgic way like I'm growing up too fast. "I can't believe you're eighteen. It feels like only last year that you were running around naked and trying to eat worms."

"I didn't try to eat worms."

"You did," she says. "You'd even name them right before you tried to chomp on them." She shudders at the memory before patting my head. "Glad you turned out normal. Finish your breakfast and come downstairs to open your presents."

I devour the rest of my breakfast as she heads downstairs. My phone vibrates with several messages from Alex, Vanessa and Niko, who wish me a happy birthday. I thank each of them and start to put my phone away when another comes through.

My heart lurches. Maybe it's pathetic, but I've never had a boy I like message me on my birthday. I hadn't even told him it was my birthday, which must mean Alex, who I'd spoken with last night about heading to Mojacks, told him.

I send a thank you back and then put down my phone, wondering if he'll be there tonight. Alex had told me everyone was going, but did everyone include him? And more importantly, why does that make me nervous? I finish off my breakfast, but now there is more than pancakes in my stomach, there's nerves and excitement and a dash of something I hadn't quite expected to feel:

Hope.

he rest of the day involves opening presents. Dad got me a few things for my bike while Mom got me money, a first aid manual and some random medical supplies for when I inevitably hurt myself, but at least everything is starting to feel normal again. We end up watching Batman at Dad's request, and I catch the way Mom takes hold of his hand during the movie, to which he responds by squeezing it tight.

Maybe there's hope for them after all.

It wouldn't be my birthday without a ride around the block. Of course, it looks a little different now that we're living in Parkwood, but in some ways, it's better. The people, the view – Parkwood is one of those picturesque towns that you visit to escape, and I've never felt more at ease.

Kianna ends up calling me just before I leave. We've been messaging on and off these past few months, but nothing like before. We'd made a vow in the beginning that a long-distance friendship wouldn't affect us at all, but I'm starting to think we were wrong.

"I can't believe you're eighteen but we aren't spending the day together," she says. "I can't believe you're eighteen, period. Has my present arrived in the mail yet? You're going to love it."

"Not yet," I say. "What is it?"

"Oh, no you don't," she says. "I don't care how much you hate surprises. My lips are sealed."

I laugh and say, "I'll break you down eventually. I always do."

"We'll see about that." There's some shouting in the background, and then, "Ugh, my mom is calling me. Have a good birthday, okay? I'll call you soon."

"Thanks," I say, but deep down I'm upset that our phone calls are always cut short. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

As soon as I hang up, I slide on my helmet and head to the garage to grab my bike. There's a tightness in my chest after speaking with Kianna that wasn't there before. It hurts to think our friendship isn't as strong anymore, but I know no matter how many miles sit between us, we'll always stay friends – we have to.

I grab my bike and pull it toward me. My heart flutters, anticipating the feel of the sleek, shiny steel. Everything else can change – my town, my school, my life – but the feeling I get from riding stays the same no matter what: it's what keeps me going.

It turns out the track is the only birthday present I need. As soon as I turn up, there is a fire in my veins that refuses to be silenced, and I'm desperate to put my bike to use. The first thing I do is scan the track for Tyler, but he's nowhere to be found. I try to ignore the disappointment in my stomach, about to head toward the circuit when an arm shoots out to stop me.

"Hey, birthday girl."

I turn and find Alex with a grin on her face. She pulls me into a sisterly hug, and after my brief phone call with Kianna, I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have Alex as a friend.

"Hey," I say. "How's your dad doing?"

Her eyes soften. "Better. He's got Tyler wrapped around his little finger, fluffing his pillows and buying him junk food." She rolls her eyes, but the relief behind them is unmistakable. 'I'm just glad he's doing okay. How's your birthday going anyway? You get anything nice?"

I shrug. "Mostly stuff for my bike. My mom bought me a manual for how to tie a tourniquet."

Alex bursts out laughing, and in that split second, the shadows and sleepless nights are erased and for once, she looks at peace. "Speaking of presents." She reaches behind her and pulls out of her pocket a little black gift card. "It's for the motorcycle store down the road," she says. "You probably already have a ton of stuff, but–"

"I love it," I interrupt, and I swear my eyes are welling up, "thank you."

"It's nothing," she says, but she's smiling too. "I'm on my break now, so as a birthday treat, I figured we could ride the track together."

My face lights up as I squash her in my arms. "Yes. It's been so long."

I'm almost giddy as she goes to grab her bike. She returns a minute later with her bike in tow, and we head to the start line. As much as I like riding with Tyler – a little too much – riding with Alex makes me somewhat nostalgic. She's the one who'd encouraged me to first ride the circuit, the one who offered to train me when no one else would. She's the reason I am where I am today.

For the first few minutes, we ride on a steady, even keel. It's clear to anyone who's not a newbie that she's spent most of her life around a circuit, but her lack of practice catches up. After the second sharp corner, she seems to tail off, and I reluctantly charge ahead without her.

The wind carries me faster as I pick up speed. While I'll admit it's nice to get some practice in, today isn't about preparing for the tournament or winning the race, it's about spending my birthday doing something I love. For once, I'm just present, enjoying the soft, sweet melody of my bike as it hums along the dirt track.

I couldn't be happier.

❤️