"Do you have what I need?" Narancia spoke softly to the stranger.
"Yeah, and the cash?"
"Here."
Bruno, who was hiding in the shadows, heard everything. He couldn't believe it. His heart dropped. Narancia bought crack from some guy in a white van. The black-haired boy put the white substance in his back pocket. The stranger drove off. They didn't even check to see if anyone saw their exchange.
Did he just buy drugs in broad daylight? he thought, clenching his fists.
People went about their day. Not a single person cared about what Bruno just witnessed. He burned the license plate into his memory. For now, he followed Narancia, who was heading to the Libeccio, the restaurant they always hung out. For some reason, the sign said closed, but the host let Narancia enter. Bruno then approached the restaurant.
"Bruno!" the host said. "Hey, sorry, you can't come in yet. We're currently planning something."
"How come Narancia was allowed in?" he asked.
"He's helping."
"With what?"
"Sorry, come back later."
He went to the side of the building where their table was, looking through the window. Narancia, Fugo, and Mista were at the table. He wasn't sure where Abbacchio was. The three of them were speaking.
"I got what we finally needed!" Narancia spoke as he plopped down the white substance on the table.
"Is this-" Fugo said, opening the bag and using his fingers to taste it. "Oh, it is!"
"This is ridiculous!" Abbacchio shouted. The tall man walked out of the kitchen, black clothes covered in white powder. "Why do I have to cook?"
Hearing enough of this, used Sticky Fingers to zip open the walls.
"What's going on here?" Bruno demanded.
"Bucciarati!" they all panicked.
"Narancia, what the hell?" Bruno interrupted, shouting at him.
"What did I do?" he asked.
"You know exactly what you did. As for the others, I can't believe this."
"I should've known the host couldn't stop you," Fugo said.
"Bucciarati," Abbacchio said, "I tried to bake the cake as fast as I could, but someone forgot to bring the sugar."
"Wait, what?" Bruno was confused. "This bag doesn't contain cocaine?"
Everyone in the room was silent, and then Narancia and Mista burst into laughter.
"Don't tell me you forgot your birthday," Fugo said.
"You could've got the chef to bake the cake!" Bruno said.
"That's what I told Mista," he said. "He said that one of us had to bake it so that it will be special."
"Speaking of baking," Mista said, "Abbacchio, let me help."
"No, don't accept his help!" Narancia interjected. "He can't even cook spaghetti."
Bruno took a seat and watched as the two started arguing. Fugo looked like he was about to pop a vein.
"Guys!" the blond shouted. "This place isn't decorated. I'll help Abbacchio bake the cake. You guys can place the decorations. Bucciarati, I'm so sorry. It did look shady, the way the sugar was in a plastic bag. We'll try to be quick."
Mista and Narancia decorated the room with blue, white, and yellow balloons and streamers.
"Let me help," Bruno said.
"But it's your birthday!" Mista said. "You don't have to."
"I'm going to help."
The restaurant's tablecloths were placed with blue, white, and yellow ones. Any flower that wasn't those colors was replaced. Each seat had a balloon tied to it. Once they were done, they sat at their table, waiting for the cake. Fugo walked out of the kitchen, covered in powder and blue frosting staining his suit.
"Wow, you guys did amazing work with setting up the decorations," the blond complemented. "The cake is done. We're not patissiers, but we only knew how to bake a simple cake. Are you ready?"
"I'm sure it'll be alright," Bruno said. "I'm ready for the cake."
"He's ready!" Fugo shouted.
Abbacchio walked out of the kitchen, holding the blue-frosted circular cake. Whip cream surrounded the edges of the cake. "Happy Birthday, Bruno!" was written in yellow frosting and cursive. He placed the cake in the middle of the table.
"Happy birthday, Bucciarati!" they all said to him.
Abbacchio stuck the birthday candle in the middle. He then brought out his lighter, lighting the candle. Bruno thought for a few seconds and then blew out the candles.
"What was your wish?" Abbacchio asked.
"That's a secret," Bruno replied.
"Can we grab a slice?" Mista asked, sounding impatient.
"Let Bucciarati have the first slice," Abbacchio said.
Bucciarati took a slice, and then the others cut a piece for themselves.