LITMIR.BIZ

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      It’d be nice if the wish I’m making on the thirteen candles I’m blowing out right now would come true. But like wishing on a star, I don’t have much faith that blowing out a bunch of burning wax sticks stuck into a pink frosted cake will do much of anything. Then again, it doesn’t stop me from trying.

      “What did you wish for?” my best friend asks. Her name’s Julie and she’s rich and tall. “A cute guy?” she adds without waiting for my reply. “An A+ in math? A cruise to the Bahamas?”

      “All of that,” I say. The thing about lying is that no one knows it’s a lie unless you get caught. Besides, if I told Julie my real wish, it’d never come true. I mean, that’s how wishes work, right?

      “Open your presents!” my little sister begs with one finger in the frosting, another one up her nose. When Maia is excited, her eyes fold nearly shut. Chinese eyes. I have Korean eyes. Everyone thinks we look exactly alike.

      “Can I?” Maia begs, practically tearing the purple paper off the small box.

      “Cease and desist, you rapscallion,” Daddy says, taking the half-unwrapped gift out of Maia’s sticky fingers. He hands me the package with a grin. “I believe this belongs to thee, m’lady.”

      Daddy talks like that a lot. He likes to say forsooth and doth and take thee to a nunnery—whatever that means. Because he teaches Shakespeare at Trinity he thinks he should talk old-fashioned. At least I think that’s why he talks that way. Or maybe he’s just plain psycho. He didn’t always talk like that. But even when he was “normal,” Mom used to say it was a good thing I was adopted so I couldn’t inherit any of his weirdo genes. I think she was really kidding.

      “Thanks, Daddy,” I say. The card is half ripped-off, but I see Lady Lauren written across it. Gee, I wonder who it’s from. I open the envelope. The card isn’t as dorky as I expected. It’s not of an out-of-focus girl running across a field full of flowers or anything. Actually, it’s kinda cute with a cartoon of a dark-haired girl throwing confetti into the air. Her boobs are bigger than mine, though. On the inside, he signed it Love, Sir Daddy.

      I turn the envelope upside down, but it’s surprisingly empty. I’m not looking for money. I’m looking for one of Daddy’s long-winded notes.

      I jiggle the gift box next to my ear. “What could it be?” I ask, even though I have a strong suspicion.

      Daddy doesn’t say anything, and his big Adam’s apple bobs in his neck like he’s got a fish on the line. I really hope he’s not going to get all emotional on me. Jiminy Cricket legs, it’s just my birthday. Okay, so I’m finally a teenager, but so what? It’s not like I have anything growing on my chest (or under my arms, for that matter) to prove it! I don’t even have my period yet.

      Carefully I peel off the rest of the wrapping paper. Maia is slobbering with excitement, jumping on me, getting her face in mine. We sure don’t need a pet dog with her around. Julie, my blonde, very-well-endowed-and-looks-like-a-model-and-has- had-her-period-for-months best friend is grinning.

      I take my time picking off the tape on the four edges of the box. It’s not that I’m not interested in getting this present, it’s just that what I really, really want doesn’t come in a box.

      Finally I lift off the lid. Julie oohs and ahs at the pierced earrings. Maia grabs the next present. So much for a five-year-old’s attention span.

      “Thank you, Daddy,” I say. I go around the table and give him a big hug.

      Tears are there, glimmering behind his glasses. “Me thinks our little lady hath grown up,” he says in a choked voice. Sounds like he has a lisp to me, but I don’t ruin the moment with a sarcastic crack.

      “Our little lady,” he repeats, shaking

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