the sun looks good on you - solangelo

18- nothing at all

"i know you don't like celebrating and all-" my dad says, his deep voice distorted by the phone.

"or even anyone bringing it up." my stepmom adds.

"no, no, it's fine." i assure. "it's okay,"

"happy birthday, nico" they say in unison.

"thanks, dad. persephone."

my phone blows up with birthday messages and calls. even from people i haven't talked to in forever.

"hey, nico,"

"hey, reyna,"

"sorry i haven't talked to you in so long. it's just that the whole night schedule thing..."

"yeah, i get it. it's my fault too. i'm on day shift now, so,"

"happy birthday."

"thanks."

hazel must have told everyone it was my birthday. otherwise, they would have forgotten. i've spent the last few years trying to get people to forget my birthday. i always thought it was a garbage day to celebrate.

from the sounds of it, that's not all she told them. she must have let it slip accidentally.

"nico!"

"hi, jason."

"happy birthday, buddy!"

"thanks,"

"i heard you got yourself a boyfriend," jason says eagerly.

"um, yeah. yeah, i guess."

i heard jason's laugh over the phone. "oh dude, what's his name? oh wait, can i guess? is it... dominic? no, no, it's noah. final answer."

"it's will," i drawl, despite being secretly amused. "listen, i gotta go-" i say. will is gesturing me to the kitchen.

"oh! of course. have a good birthday!"

"yeah, thanks, bye,"

"goodb-"

beep.

oops. hung up a bit early.

"nico, come here," i hear will's eager voice from my kitchen. i follow it. he had turned most of the lights off. on the kitchen island was a single, lonely cupcake with a lit birthday candle on it.

"oh?"

"it was a bit short notice. i had no idea it was your birthday, i'm so sorry," will says apologetically.

"it's okay, i didn't tell you. that's on me. you wouldn't have known if hazel didn't say." i look at the cupcake. it's a plain vanilla with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. i can't help but smile a little at it.

"i managed to get a cupcake. it's not the same without a party of people to sing it, but i guess i'll sing you happy birthday," will says, rubbing the back of his neck.

i laugh a little and will's face seems to perk up. it's so strange to see someone have such a physical positive reaction to me doing something so simple as laughing. "okay, go on."

he clears his throat.

"happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." will begins.

i admit, it sounds very awkward when it's just his voice singing. i guess there's a reason the song is meant to be sang by a party of people. but his face is so genuine, i can't help but find myself smiling through it. i usually hate my birthday. it's a reminder of my continued existence and me growing up. and i still don't like the idea. the idea of me growing up and living in a world that's hard to understand.

but i see why everyone else cares. why everyone wishes you a happy birthday and hope you have a good year. hoping that 12 treats you well or 15 treats you well or that 20 treats you well... because nothing treats you well and growing sucks. it's good to hope. and it's good to have others hope for you. it's nice to have so many people with good hopes for you.

"happy birthday, dear nico... happy birthday to you." will finishes. he sings my name so sweetly. i could never say my own name like that. i glance up at him, both our darkened faces illuminated by the candlelight. he nods for me to blow out the candle. "make a wish," he whispers, as if the song had taken all his voice with it.

i close my eyes, but i can't think of a single wish. i feel like i have spent my whole life wanting, but now that i should, i can't. my mind is empty. i blow out the candle anyway.

will claps. "what'd you wish for?"

"can't say," i tell him. he grins.

i always felt like i didn't have a right to be happy on my birthday. not while bianca and mom weren't there to help bake the cake. not while my dad is sitting at the kitchen counter with his face in his hands. there wasn't room for a happy birthday. there was always some guilt. or at least, some type of feeling like i didn't deserve to be happy to be born. that god didn't make me to be happy.

will wraps me in his arms and i let him. i kiss his neck and he laughs. he kisses my cheek and i allow myself to grin.

"can i tell you something?" i whisper. "i wished for nothing. i couldn't think of anything."

he laughs. his laughs come so easily. "nothing at all?"

i shake my head. there's tons of birthday wishes waiting for me on my phone. i don't need one. they've already wished the hell out of my birthday.

"how come you didn't tell me it was your birthday?" he asks me. my fingers run through his soft hair. it's still hard to believe that he's all real.

i shrug. "it just never was important, i guess. i didn't want to make it a big deal when it didn't feel like one. i don't know. i never really tell people my birthday. it's just... what's the point?"

"i'm happy you're alive. that's the point. celebrating that you're alive." will says softly.

i tilt my head. "yeah. yeah, i guess. i guess i'm happy i'm alive, too."

will grins and kisses my neck and i let myself laugh. i kiss his forehead. he kisses my cheek four times. i kiss his lips. we smile against eachother. my thumb swipes over his face, feeling his dimple. the scar on my hand is a faint, darkened mark. i kiss him again. and again. and again.

the cupcake on the counter is left forgotten. we never eat it.

i push will until he's sitting on top of the kitchen counter and i'm standing. his skin is so warm. we're both laughing and i've forgotten how good it felt. they bubble up in my chest. i haven't laughed so much since i was... i can't even remember. before it all. will's fingers are in my hair. i kiss his neck and he laughs. when he laughs, the world is burning.

new york sounds so far away.

i kiss him again and my arms wrap around him and we fit perfectly together. everything is starting to fit together. i mark off another year of my life. it seems so big and endless, but it doesn't bother me anymore. another year. i kiss will again and feel something pushing in my chest. almost choking. i swallow thickly.

"are you okay?" will asks.

i nod. "yeah," my voice sounds strangled.

the first tear falls.

i haven't cried in years.

another rolls down.

i grin, despite myself.

"nico, what's wrong?"

"nothing. that's the thing."

"are you sure?" will uses his thumb and brushes away the tear. my vision is blurry but i see him clearly. he looks in bewilderment at me.

"nothing," i say, shaking my head, smiling and crying, almost laughing. it feels so good to cry again. it feels so good to allow myself to cry and laugh and smile again.  everything overwhelms me and it feels like i'm alive again. "nothing at all."