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There was this one party. Not the biggest one. Not even the most exciting.
But I remember it.
It was Jamie's eighth birthday.
She had this obsession with outer space, so her backyard was transformed into the cosmos. Black streamers. Glow-in-the-dark stars taped to the fences. Planet balloons bobbing in the wind. And the cake? A moon crater with candy rocks and powdered sugar stardust. Her mom even wore a tinfoil hat and called herself Commander Mom all afternoon.
We all had cheap plastic helmets from the dollar store and cardboard jetpacks strapped to our backs. Jayden crashed his into the snack table within the first ten minutes. Mikey tried to eat a glow stick. I still have the blurry photo of him with neon green on his lips and a very confused face.
Jamie looked like she belonged on a real rocket. Silver boots, glittery cape, and a telescope necklace she wore like a badge. She was the kind of kid who made you believe anything was possible, and that day? She was the captain of the galaxy.
There were games—asteroid dodgeball, moon rock hunt, and something called Martian Freeze Dance. Tasha broke the stereo halfway through by kicking it too hard during a robot dance move, but nobody cared. We just sang the rest of the music ourselves.
I remember the moment Jamie blew out the candles. Everyone was yelling, laughing, clapping. But I stayed quiet, just for a second.
And I made a wish, too.
Not because it was my birthday.
Just because it felt like the right time to ask the universe for something. I didn't wish for toys or superpowers. I just wanted this feeling to last forever. That warmth. That joy. That impossible lightness where everything was okay.
After cake, we all laid down on the trampoline, staring up at the sky like we were waiting for a spaceship to come pick us up. The stars weren't out yet, but we swore we saw one blink.
Jayden said it was just a plane.
Jamie said it was her future.
I didn't say anything.
I just watched and hoped the night wouldn't end.
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Looking back, that party is burned into my memory like a photograph with too much sun.
Not because it was perfect. But because it felt like a snapshot of childhood at its best.
No phones. No problems. Just friends, sugar, and a sky that still belonged to us.
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[CONTINUES...]