Miso tiptoes across the cool white marble. Her tail is pressed tight behind her. Pink and gold light spills through the tall windows.
She squints past the glowing glass, then yanks the piping bag off the counter. The icing squelches inside.
She pipes a wiggly line. Surprise, she thinks, tapping the counter. SURPRISE!—louder, and she hisses it.
SURPRISE!—the biggest. The icing squishes out one giant green blob.
A soft thump from the hallway. Her best friend pokes a head through the doorway, ears flat. Miso freezes, the bag still dripping onto her paw.
Miso tucks the bag behind her back and blinks slow. …Happy birthday? she says, very small. A little early?
The friend snorts, then laughs, and grabs Miso's paw in a tight squeeze.
They slide the cake to the middle of the counter and cut the first slice together. Frosting is smudged across both their noses.