“Yeah, it’s my birthday, and you’re in a totally different world.” We both turn toward the sound of Kian’s voice as it comes up behind us. He’s dressed in all black from head to toe—from his hair to his eyes, down to his cloak and his shoes. His teeth are pointed and sharp, covered in fake blood, and his face and neck are covered in highlighted black streaks and fake veins. Every bit the demon he is.
“Happy birthday, man,” I tell him as he saddles up beside me.
“Thanks. Why’re you trying to ruin it?”
I burst out laughing. Leave it to Kian to be blunt as hell. It’s one thing I love about him—he doesn’t fuck around, ever.
“Not trying to.”
“You never do,” he says, but he’s smirking, and I know we’re good.
“So…” I drawl. “How’s it feel to be twenty-four?”
“Terrible. I’m old and decrepit,” he deadpans, and Kaserbursts into laughter. I follow suit, and soon, the three of us curl into each other laughing so hard, we can’t breathe.
“It really does feel that way sometimes, doesn’t it?” I say on a breathless exhale.
“Like you’ve got room to talk. You’re only twenty-two.”
“Almost twenty-three.”
“In a month,” Kaser argues.
“In a month,” I confirm, taking a swig out of my bottle.
“Anyway, it’s my birthday, so let’s quit talking about Ced, hm? He gets enough attention with his new beau.”
“Hey!” I squawk. I don’t want nor need that kind of attention, and that has everyone in the room looking over at me.
“I’m just sayin’!”
“Well, don’t. I don’t—” But then, I cut myself off because that would be a lie, and I don’t do that.
Shit.
“See?” he teases, and I look to Kaser for help, but they’re just grinning ear to ear and smirking at me over their blue solo cup. A lot of fuckin’ help they are.
Best friend, my ass.
“Anyway…” I try to change the conversation. “Have anything memorable happen tonight?” I ask Kian as he takes a drink from his cup.
“Oh, something memorable always happens, but there were these two girls that started crying the moment they saw me…” he starts, and I grin, knowing I’ve got him distracted.
Over an hour later and everyone is thoroughly wasted—and to be honest, I’m not far behind. I drank way more than I should have, but I had to keep up with everyone else, and when a bottle of rum got brought into rotation and someone mentioned pickle back shots, well…
Who am I to say no?
And so now, here I sit next to Kierra on the reception couch, watching the room sway slightly as she giggles next to me, nursing her drink in her hand.
“Hey, Kierra,” I lean in to ask her in a too-loud whisper.
“Hey, Ced,” she whisper-yells back, then giggles, eyes scrunching shut.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Her eyebrow lifts comically high as she cracks open one eye to stare at me.
“I thought you were gay?” she deadpans, and I snort.
