Adopted

The Birthday

I woke up at sharp 12 am to find Peter sitting beside me already. The clock struck and I jumped into his arms.

"Happy Birthday!" we screamed.

It was a very normal thing and my dad was already by the door to my room. He hugged us both and gave us a kiss each on our foreheads.

I was beaming and Peter was probably just hungry for the cake. We ran downstairs and there it was. On the table, beautiful like every year. We had our ritual singing for each other and then cut the cake. It was always quiet at my place. All the celebrations were simple and only among the three of us. Sometimes I'd bring some friends over or Peter would bring his girl friend but usually, by the next occasion, he would have broken up with her.

We had decided to spend the night in Peter's room. He said he had something awesome for me. I had been waiting for so long.

Dad went to sleep soon after eating a piece and then we rushed up to Peter's room. He handed me a little wrapped-in-red box. I tore the cover open and found him twitch at the sight.

It was a little locket with our photos inside it. An oval locket with beautiful designs over it. I smiled broadly at him and pulled out his gift. He looked excited but still opened it with utmost care and delicacy. I waited impatiently fiddling with the locket. Once it was open his jaw dropped - literally. He looked at me and gave me one of his 'oh no! What did you do?' looks.

"You aren't the only one who gets pocket money." I said.

"It would have costed you an entire year of pocket money!" he exclaimed.
And he was right. We didn't get a lot of pocket money. In fact, there were times dad wouldn't be able to give us any money at all.

"I worked part time recently, remember?" I smiled through my teeth at him.

"I can't believe this! You actually collected money for this?"

"You've wanted that for almost an year now, haven't you? Oh, and I still have 45$ left with me." I said almost proud.

He had waited for more than an year for it. It was these shoes from a nearby showroom. They were very expensive and he was crazy about shoes. He had like an entire shoe rack full of his shoes and then he'd use dad and mine too. And he had craved for these for far too long. So, I found it my duty to gift them to him on his special birthday. Turning 21, in my head was very special.

He pulled me into a really tight hug and kissed my cheeks.

"Gross!" I said, still hugging him.

Well, that had to make him kiss my cheek again. Genius me, huh?

Next thing we did, was basically love. No, not that love.

We admired our gifts.

We sat across each other for almost 15 minutes and gazed and examined and almost wrote a thesis on our gifts. He was wearing the shoes already and was praising me again and again for my precision about his foot size.

I like taking compliments, of all types- except the vulgar- so I just made him sign a contract for cleaning up my room.

I'm evil that way, thank you very much.

We slept on his bed in extremely awkward positions that day. I remember because the next day, I had a cramp in my neck.

Morning, my first job was to find a suitable chain for the locket. And once I'd found it, I started playing with it. Well, it is normal!

To my pleasure, Peter was wearing the shoes even inside the house and I'm sure hadn't removed them at all. He hadn't taken his bath yet, so definitely hadn't taken them off. He kept showing the shoes off to dad and I kept showing him how awesome Peter was to put up my BEST PHOTO in the locket.

Dad was having a bad time handling us but ultimately he gave up.

And then the doorbell rang. I opened to find the post man with two big boxes. Peter came running and took the boxes from the old man. I smiled and patiently waited for him to hand me the paper for me to sign. We said thanks and went back to the dining table. We tore open our respective boxes.
Note - here, Peter does not have any regards to how he opens it. But put a gift wrapping paper over it and open it like that... He loses all shit in existence. Except for when it's me.
We found our clothes inside. It's again almost like a ritual. Dad would buy us clothes - whatever we wish for - for every birthday and we'll buy each other the other stuff. This time, I'd asked for a leather jacket and a sheer top. Peter had his own priorities. He had asked for jeans and a t-shirt that looked very cool on him.
His black eyes and his brown hair suited the shade of the top. I couldn't name the colour.
In my defence, I blame Peter, who brought me up as a guy.
We said our thanks to each other and changed into the new clothes which fit me just perfectly! It was time for the next ritual! A trip to the orphanage!