What We Stay Alive For

Chapter Fourteen: To Hold the Hand I Love So Well

15 November, 1959. Sunday.

One more month.

—

16 November, 1959. Todd Anderson's Birthday.

Todd had not intended on keeping his birthday a secret from Neil and the others on purpose. He was not hiding it like he might have been before. It never came up, is all. But on the sixteenth of November in 1959, Todd Anderson turns seventeen for the second time. It's a beautiful, horrible thing to be on the verge of adulthood, though Todd would point out years later that he never actually felt like an adult anyways. Perpetually stuck at sixteen, seventeen is a cruel irony. But maybe everyone feels that way.

Even though his friends do not know it is his birthday, Todd has a fine day. He wakes up and that's good. He showers and scrubs the dirt from under his fingernails. When he eats breakfast, the eggs aren't runny and the bread is still warm. The best part of his morning, however, is that Neil waits for him to finish breakfast, even if it makes him late for class. He doesn't even look a little upset when he does, familiar with the fact that Todd is so slow-moving on Mondays.

Soccer is a mediocre kind of miserable, which is a huge upgrade from other Monday soccer practices. The second shower Todd takes after the extracurricular is even better than the first, too. The water runs warm and doesn't edge into cold. The soap slips from his hands less than five times and his towel doesn't smell moldy.

So, it's a fine day. Not newsworthy, but fine. Keating is the only one that wishes him well and Todd is fine with that.

He's fine with it until Neil enters their bedroom after dinner before he does and sees it: a neatly wrapped package set on Todd's pillow with care.

"What's this?" He asks, lifting the package from its place to show Todd. The ugly brown paper crinkles under his grasp.

"Oh," Todd says, unphased. He takes the bundle from Neil. To the unknowing eye, a surprise letter or gift in your bedroom might stimulate some interest. But, Todd does know and he doesn't feel up to finding the unhappy offering under the paper wrapping. "It's a package from my parents. It's for my birthday." He tosses the phrase aside as he sits on his bed.

"What?" Neil's eyes widen and he follows Todd onto his bed. He extends over Todd's lap to get to the gift. "Is today your birthday?"

"Yeah, it is." Todd uneasily answers.

"Todd!" Neil's exclamation comes out shocked and gentle. "Happy birthday, geez, I had no clue.

"I didn't tell you," Todd wants to apologize for it. "I guess I never really thought to. He fidgets awkwardly to position himself, placing his back against his wall. Neil copies his movements so that he and Todd sit shoulder-to-shoulder. Todd's hand falls open against his thigh like he's expecting something, but it doesn't come.

Neil doesn't sense any of Todd's disappointment at that. He holds up the present in anticipation to Todd's chest. "Let's see, open it."

Grimacing, Todd forces himself not to curl up into a ball. His jaw locks and he grinds his teeth. Opening gifts from your parents was such an awkward affair without an audience. Todd tears open the package, pushing the thought aside. He pulls out a desk set. The same desk set that sits, hardly touched, on the desk in his Welton dorm. It's as worthless than the last one is.

Neither of them speak at first, but it's easy to catch Neil's eyes going from the tools on Todd's desk to the set in his hands. As he does this, Todd's throat binds and his teeth move on from grinding against each other to new territory. The inside of his cheek falls victim to his mouth's boney reprisal.