12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Avery

B irthdays were the worst.

Every year, I did what was expected of me and celebrated with my family, and every year, I dreaded feeling invisible and out of place there again. Zack's was a few days after mine, but mine was on the weekend, so we were celebrating both of us today. The past couple of days, I'd been in femme mode, which sometimes made being around my family harder. Not like I could help it though. If I tossed on masc attire and masked, I'd feel itchy in my skin all day, like I wanted to claw it off.

Normally, after the family visit, I hit the club, danced my ass off, and spent the rest of the time with friends, which rescued the day for me.

However, today, my birthday wasn't near a Gravediggers night at Athens, and not only were my usual club friends all busy tonight, but Chloe was on the opposite side of the country. She had to fly out early to San Francisco for a meeting with her prospective firm, and she'd promised we'd make up for it when she returned.

So the one plan I had was going to my folks.

I hadn't mentioned my birthday to Myles, even though I wouldn't turn down spending time with him. However, only a few days had passed since the club night that had blown my mind, and I didn't want to come across as too needy.

Even if I fucking was.

Sinking into his hot body, fucking him hard, and then falling asleep in his bed had been pure euphoria, and I wouldn't lie that I wanted to repeat the experience.

I sat in my car, clutching the steering wheel and staring at my parents' house. They weren't callous or uncaring, which made me feel guilty for the struggle I always went through with family gatherings. It wasn't my family's fault I'd never fit in. That the rest of them lived in a heteronormative space I'd never be able to inhabit. And maybe some of the weight was a little on me. I didn't speak up about my wants and needs or fight for them hard, partially because enough made me difficult or different, and I didn't need to add to the stack.

I checked my makeup in the mirror again, the cat-eyeliner strokes even, the eyeshadow a soft and muted blue. Myles had called me beautiful on my way out, and I would hold on to the glow for the rest of the day. I'd run some product through my hair, but since it was short enough to be manageable, I never worried too much. Still, the last checking over a few strands was a stalling tactic, and I needed to get out of my car.

I took another deep breath to settle my nerves before cracking the door open and stepping outside.

The air was cool enough I'd donned my leather jacket, Boston fall sweeping in with a crispness that soaked through layers. My folks lived in Brookline, where I'd grown up, but I'd been sneaking out to the city since late high school, melding so much more with the bustling life there than the quietness of the suburbs. Who knew? Maybe someday I'd be searching for quiet, but where I currently was, the city remained a comfort to me. I loved the people, I loved being able to walk to my practice, and I loved the beautiful old house I lived in with Myles.

Which was probably an argument against sleeping with him, since I wanted to stay in this place, but I hadn't been able to resist.

He'd been this spot of comfort and curiosity from the moment I showed up at his doorstep, and the more I got to know him, the more those things grew. A quiet realization had crept in of the sheer potential blooming between us, and it terrified me a bit. However, it was also this tremulous, flickering light I wanted to capture in my hands like a firefly, just to hold on to the preciousness for as long as I could.

Based on the number of cars in my parents' driveway, my siblings were all here, which meant I'd be stepping into chaos. I pushed open the front door, my shoulders braced and ready. Noise exploded at me like a grenade. Part of me loved the pandemonium—I adored being in crowds, and I thrived off people. And I was grateful I had holiday events with family, which beat lighting a candle to a meal by my lonesome.

What snuck under my skin was just the times I needed them to see me. Moments that reminded me I was the black sheep of the family, where I'd never fit in as myself.

Those were the ones that lingered long after, the subtle nagging that something was wrong with me, no matter how euphorically happy I was in who I'd become.

"Hey," I called out, heading to the right toward the kitchen. Everyone tended to congregate there.

"Hurray," a tiny voice shrieked. Layla, my four-year-old niece, rushed around the corner, her dark brown hair streaming behind her like a banner. I dropped to my knees, and she crashed into my arms.

"How's my favorite niece?" I soaked up her hugs to bolster me. Truthfully, she was the easiest to be around. Playing princess for hours beat trying to make small talk when my siblings and I had such divergent interests. No, I didn't care if the Pats won or lost, and no, I didn't give a fuck about what brand of Tupperware was best to use.

"I want to play dress up." She pulled back from me and grabbed my hand. "Can we?"

"Once I say hi to everyone, absolutely." I walked hand in hand with her toward the kitchen. When I stepped in, my chest sank a little. Zack had already arrived, and everyone clustered around him. Layla's mom, Darla stood there with her husband Bob, and Zack's wife, Jessica, clutched him tight. Mom and Dad were deep in conversation with Zack and Jessica, none of them bothering to look my way. Jamie and Kylie were over by the kitchen table, and they both waved.

"What's going on?" I plunked down in the seat and scooped up Layla onto my lap. She let out a giggle and squirmed away again.

"Zack just got a new promotion," Kylie said. "Mom and Dad are over the moon. Some bigwig corporate position. Sounds like there'll be a big celebratory dinner next month, on the fifteenth."

I swallowed hard, trying not to let my disappointment show. "That'll be a pass from me. I've got my event that day."

"Oh yeah, the hippie festival, right?" Jamie said, which hit like a trainwreck. Typical Jamie humor.

"Yeah, clearly." I used the same dry sarcasm I always employed with him.

Kylie slapped Jamie on the shoulder. "Stop being a jerk. You know that was the event her practice is sponsoring." She turned to me. "I'll try to do both, Aves."

My heart twisted tight. Her promise did mean something to me. Out of everyone, Kylie put in the most effort with me, maybe because, as the youngest, she would never be able to compete with Darla and Zack either. Jamie didn't care either way. He'd always done his own thing.

Mom gave me a hug. "Happy birthday, Avery. Did you hear about Zack's wonderful news? He got a huge promotion!"

I bobbed my head, and Zack met my gaze from over by the kitchen island. He gave a nod and a lazy wave, not budging from his spot.

"Sounds great," I said, forcing the cheer. Maybe it was childish to get hung up on craving attention from my parents, but this happened every year. Zack had something new to celebrate—football win, homecoming king, caught a big fish on his and Dad's fishing trip—and I got the perfunctory "happy birthday" before being cast aside. No one cared when I'd gotten an award for my art in school or graduated acupuncture school.

"Now that Avery's here, let's cut into the cake soon," Darla called over. "Layla's been eyeing it for a while now."

I ignored the prickles along my skin.

"Let's do it." I wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. If I'd still been living by myself, the idea of heading home to my lonesome might've had me sticking around here longer than necessary. However, Myles was at the house. And unlike now, when I felt invisible or at least disposable, he made me feel valuable. Worthy.

And I wanted to bask in that glow for my birthday. Not this.

"Are you sure? You just got here." Mom rested a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm the last to arrive, though, so no point in holding everyone up." I walked over to the kitchen island, where a basic vanilla frosted cake awaited that said Happy Birthday, the way we'd always done to split Zack's and my birthdays. If I shared one with Kylie, it wouldn't be so bad, but Zack was forever the golden child, the man's man.

And I turned out to be not a man at all, something my folks might accept but couldn't wrap their minds around.

"Happy birthday," I said to Zack as I settled beside him.

"You too." His voice always grew a little gruffer around me, like he needed to reaffirm his masculinity or some shit. It was a subtle thing I didn't think cis or straight folks realized they even did, but I was well aware, since those subtle cues often meant a lot more when you were queer.

Darla pushed in front of me, put candles on the cake, and lit them. Her type-A ass was always in a rush, so her brush-over probably wasn't on purpose, but I'd gotten in her way since I was a kid, and that showed no signs of stopping.

With the candles lit, she stepped back, and Dad started off the loud, off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday" while everyone else joined in. I lifted Layla, who was eager as fuck to blow out the candles and also for cake. She was my life raft for these types of events, and I hoped even as she got older, she would stay just as open-minded and awesome. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and once everyone finished singing, she leaned over and blew out the candles.

Slices of cake were distributed, the chocolate with vanilla frosting that was Zack's favorite, even though mine was vanilla on vanilla. Little things like this seemed stupid, but a thousand cuts stacked over the years.

Truth be told, none of my small quibbles would mean a damn to me if my family saw me. So I wouldn't always feel like an outsider looking in.

"Want a piece?" Darla asked me once she'd gotten Layla situated.

I held up my hand. "I'm okay." I offered a smile, but based on the perfunctory way she whirled around, she'd already passed her judgment.

"Did you tell Avery about the celebration dinner?" Dad clapped a hand on Zack's shoulder.

I swallowed a golf ball as my grin strained at the edges.

"Avery wouldn't want to go," Zack said, not bothering to address me. "That's the date of their wellness fair."

"Oh no." Mom looked crestfallen, but she was probably a little relieved she had an out too. I hadn't expected anyone from my family to show, even if my fair was in the morning, and it'd be easy to stop by both.

Even if I'd wanted them to.

"Don't worry about it," I said to Zack, giving him the easy out. Guaranteed, he wouldn't want to have to explain away his oddball sib at his new company. Places like that could be toxic-as-fuck environments I'd rather steer clear of anyway.

Zack let out a breath, and his gaze softened. "It's not because I don't want you there. I've been waiting on this promotion for a while, and they happened to schedule the dinner on that date."

I bobbed my head, not trusting my stupid emotions. Birthdays sucked, flat out. I hated that they already put me in an emotional headspace, and I tended to get on the defensive at family functions on automatic. The sooner I could leave, the better.

"Who did you have to kill to climb the ladder?" Jamie asked from his seat by the kitchen table.

"Jamie," Darla hissed because she was the fun police. "Young ears."

I slipped away from the kitchen island as Mom and Dad discussed something about Halloween next month. While Darla dressed down Jamie for his usual sense of humor, I plunked into the seat next to Layla.

"How's the cake, kiddo?"

She waved her hand back and forth. "Eh, I've had better."

A laugh exploded from my chest, the first genuine one since I'd gotten here. "Tough customer, are we?"

"It's cake, Aunt Avery. That's serious business." Layla's wide eyes broadcasted her feelings, and my heart warmed.

"You're right. How about for your birthday, I make sure to get you cake from the best place in Boston?"

"You promise?" She lifted her pinkie. I pinkie-promised her, and the next half hour, we discussed if princesses needed swords or magic wands. Both had merit.

I checked my phone. Enough time had passed that I could duck out and still salvage the night, especially if someone was around. I shot off a text to Myles.

You home?

My phone buzzed a second later.

When were you going to tell me it was your birthday???

My heart fluttered. Yeah, I was going home.

How did you find out?

"Hey, guys, I've got a dinner date to catch." I rose from my seat. With an extra huge hug to Layla and one to my folks, I made a quick exit, leaving the bad feels behind.

As I reached my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I checked it again.

Social media when I was on a writing break. Rude that you didn't tell me.

I sent him one more message.

I'll be home soon.

With that, I got in my car, hit the gas, and headed home. Thankfully, it was early, and the traffic reached the regular Boston levels of annoying, not atrocious. I blasted some Baelfire, needing the distraction from the complicated feelings from the birthday gathering at my family's. Those low, sexy vocals brought back memories from the club and grinding with Myles. I clutched to those endorphins with all my might, lust flicker-flashing through my system at the thought of my sexy-as-fuck roommate.

I coursed down Boston's familiar roads in the middle of the city, as chaotic as ever. My heart thumped a little faster at the prospect of getting to the house, at being somewhere I felt seen. After the short stint at my family's, I realized all the more how damn special my space with him was. My folks tried, and my siblings did care, but spending my childhood trying to fit into a box I didn't belong in had left scars, even if no one had made me but myself.

I stopped in front of the familiar brick house, something unknotting in my chest. Once I got out of my car, the brisk air kissed my cheeks, but I welcomed it. I'd escaped by late afternoon, which meant I had the whole evening and night ahead of me, so I had plenty of time to turn this birthday around.

And if I got to spend it with Myles, even if we just watched a dumb movie together—that'd be perfection.

I skipped steps as I loped up on my way to the door. My skin felt a little more sensitized, and I tugged on the sleeves of my leather jacket. We hadn't discussed hooking up again after we had a few nights ago, but damn, if sex was on the table, I wouldn't turn it down. Especially if Myles wanted to pick out his favorite cock and pound into me like there was no tomorrow. Ngh.

When I opened the door, I got several steps inside the house before I spotted Myles over by the couch. His dark brown strands were tousled, and he wore a black hoodie with a rainbow skull-and-crossbones on the front.

He all but leaped from the seat and snagged something from the coffee table.

I didn't catch what was in his hand until he stopped in front of me.

A vanilla cupcake with vanilla frosting.

My eyes started to water on instinct, and I swiped at them, hoping my eyeliner didn't smear.

I vaguely remembered a vehement argument about cake because Myles liked whipped icing, which was an atrocity, and I must've mentioned my favorite flavors then.

My chest squeezed tight.

His eyes softened as he thrust the cupcake forward, not realizing how big of a gift he offered me right now.

"Happy birthday, Avery."