I hate Abbey. All of us men do.

Well, not all the men. Just the men who have to negotiate with the Women’s Co-op. Those men call her horrible names when she’s not around; Ball-breaker, Ice Queen, worse…

And yet here we all are, at her birthday party. So what if she’s turning 20? Lots of people turn 20.

Just not any women. Don’t know how, but The Plague killed nearly everyone. But who cares that today’s the anniversary of the worst day ever? We’re having a flippin’ party.

You’d think Rivka would know better than to throw Abbey a birthday party; she knows no one really likes her. Well, she does, I guess.

And the older men are starting to. Like her, I mean. They’ve started acting weird whenever the girls are around – like they’re special or something; it’s not right.

And Jack Bell’s not talking Energy business with her right now. Smiling like that at her, touching her arm, whispering in her ear; it’s disgusting.

Man, he must’ve said something pretty rude. She’s looking at him like he kicked a puppy.