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Chris kicked a can down the street and rubbed his arm, imagining the killer bruise that would no doubt be there tomorrow morning. He may have just turned fifteen years old, but he was tall, gangly, and had all the dexterity of a newborn deer wearing ice skates; nothing would have stopped him from getting his birthday beatings from Harry Sorber.
Well, nothing except for Daniel, but he’d been whisked away by Stephen right after school finished to go to an orthodontist appointment, and then visit one of Claire’s sisters in Eugene. Today of all days.
Ever since moving to the very edge of town, Chris had found himself getting more and more isolated from old friends. Not just by proximity, but also by circumstance. It was hard being the dead-mom-kid, but growing up as the deadbeat-dad-kid was just as difficult, and his friends always seemed to shy away from him. Even birthday parties had been strained and a bit awkward, he realised now he was older.
Not with Daniel though. Through the eyes of the other kids at school, Daniel was the dead-dad-kid and the deadbeat-mom-kid, with a side dish of terrorist-brother-kid as well. They seemed to fit together like a lock and key. If there was such a thing as a soul mate, then that’s what Daniel was to Chris.
And that’s what sucked so much about today. They’d not missed a single birthday together since Daniel came to live with his grandparents all those years ago. It didn’t even need to be anything special. Sometimes they’d hang at the arcade together or a camping trip with Dad, but Chris’ favourite was when they’d just hang out after school and sleep out in his treehouse. They were getting a bit big for it now, but he’d hoped that’s what they could do tonight. Maybe they still could if Daniel was home early enough.
He reached the top of the hill leading to his street and saw his house looming in the distance, getting closer and closer. Just another crappy day, but this time with a sore arm and one of Dad’s crappy cakes to really finish things off.
As he reached for the doorknob, a pitted feeling in his stomach stopped him. That was an unfair thing to think, and he knew it. His dad had been trying really hard to improve over the last few years, and he was doing even better now since he’d met Lisa. The cake would be, without a doubt, garbage. But it would be garbage made with genuine love, and he’d treasure every bite just for that alone. He sighed to himself and turned the doorknob, bracing himself for whatever awkward surprise his dad had in store for him.
What he wasn’t expecting was the chorus of ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ from the lounge. Dad and Lisa were standing around the coffee table behind two of the tastiest-looking cakes Chris had ever seen. But not just that, his grandparents were sat on the sofa, beaming over at him; Claire had turned around in the armchair to see, with Stephen stood behind her; and, best of all, Daniel was already halfway to the door and crashed into him with a hug, as though they hadn’t just seen each other about half an hour ago.
Almost not knowing what to say, all Chris could manage was, “What happened to ‘oh sorry Chris, gotta get my braces tightened’?”
“Sorry, sorry, Grandma couldn’t trust me not to give it all away if I walked here with you.” Barely giving him enough time to take off his shoes and drop his bag, Daniel dragged him over to the lounge.
His dad pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing a bit too tight on his sore arm. “Happy birthday, squirt.” Eventually, he let him go and, as Chris looked up at him, he could see the love and pride in his dad’s eyes. “Though keep growing like that, and I’ll be the one looking up at you.”
He made his way around all of the guests, getting more hugs from everyone and an embarrassing amount of kisses from Grandma. She and Grandpa hadn’t managed to make it up last year due to a nasty fall she’d had, but she looked in better spirits than ever before now. It turned out one of the cakes, a chocolate sponge with an even sweeter chocolate ganache topping, had been baked by her, while Claire and Daniel had made a Victoria sponge with buttercream icing together. Either Dad was terrible at organisation, or it didn’t really matter.
Of course, they weren’t allowed to touch either of them until after dinner which left Chris drooling over them for a few hours. He’d always had a sweet tooth, and these two bounties of sugar coated mountains of sugar were almost too much.
Instead, while they waited for the Chinese to be delivered, Chris unwrapped the gifts that had piled up modestly beside the coffee table. Dad had bought him a bunch of drawing technique books, and Lisa had pitched in with a new stylus for his tablet. It looked like he was finally getting used to the idea of Chris not turning into the basketball prodigy he’d always (not so secretly) hoped he’d be. Grandma and Grandpa’s gifts were more practical: plenty of new socks and underwear, and fifty bucks in the birthday card. And, finally, from Claire and Stephen: a year’s subscription to Art in American magazine. He’d protested and said it was too much, but they’d have none of it. “You’re like another grandson to us”, Claire said, simply.
When it came to Daniel, he simply winked and said he wanted it to be another surprise later on, and ha’d have to wait.
****
And so he waited.
The Reynolds had gone home, and Daniel with them to grab his stuff, and his grandparents were taking his dad’s room for the night, leaving his dad and Lisa to set up on a camp bed in the lounge. It was all complicated enough for him to leave them to it, and set up for the night in the treehouse.
It was the middle of winter, however, so Chris had wrapped up in his sleeping bag already, thankful that they’d managed to set up some semblance of walls around the edges to keep the cold air out. He peeked out of the makeshift window and, through the dark, saw Daniel hop over the fence into his yard, levitating his sleeping bag and flashlight in front of him. Cocky son of a… He’d gotten so confident with his powers, but what if someone saw him out of the windows?
He asked him as much as he climbed up into the treehouse. Daniel shrugged as he laid the sleeping bag down next to him. “It’s dark, dude, no one could see.” He pulled off his pants and let out a gasp, no doubt as the cold hit his legs, and wormed his way into it.
Finally, Chris was where he had wanted to be all day – well, all week really, and all of last week as well – with Daniel, the right shoe to his left. As much as he loved everyone else, he didn’t feel the need to put on any kind of performance with Daniel; he could just be totally himself. His complete weird and awkward self.
Weird and awkward enough to still be stunned into silence as his boyfriend handed him over a small envelope. He recognised the logo on the front immediately – the Zeitgeist gallery in Seattle. “Happy birthday, Captain.” Daniel reached over and closed Chris’ agape mouth for him.
He gently opened the seal, as though it was a letter sent by the President himself, and found himself staring at two tickets to the Everyday Heroes exhibit, which was being held in a few months. It was usually a November event and had been delayed from last year, but Chris thought they would have completely sold out by now. He finally tore his eyes away from the tickets back to Daniel’s smirking face. “How on earth did you afford these!? How did you even get these?”
“A painful amount of saving from Starbucks. I haven’t been able to afford deodorant for months!” Daniel said, smelling under his arms and laughing. “And a bit of help from Mom. She knows a guy in Seattle who managed to get them sorted out. A bunch of people refunded their tickets when the dates moved.”
“Dude, I don’t even know how to begin to say thanks.”
“Well, I know you’re really into art and photography, and all that lame duck stuff, so don’t mention it.”
“So why couldn’t I open these in front of everyone else?” Chris said, it was far from embarrassing to go to an art gallery.
“Oh Captain Spirit, did you really think that was all I got you?” Daniel leant over and picked up a small present that he’d somehow managed to sneak in without Chris seeing. Maybe he’d floated it in through one of the windows when he wasn’t looking.
Chris inspected it, feeling it with both of his hands. It was wide on one side and thin on the other, and felt suspiciously like a photo frame. He looked over at Daniel who seemed to be just as excited to see his reaction as he was to open it.
He drew the moment out, enjoying the tortured look on Daniel’s face but, not being able to handle it himself, finally tore at one of the corners.
It was almost too much. He couldn’t believe it, it was a framed drawing of him and Daniel, kitted out as Captain Spirit and Superwolf, with a fearsome-looking Mantroid looming in the background.
There was that stunned silence again.
“Where did you get this!? I mean you obviously didn’t draw it.” He looked at Daniel with mischievous eyes.
“That obvious, huh?l Daniel cocked an eyebrow and playfully punched him in the arm. “I commissioned a guy I saw on Instagram to make it, but it’s awesome, right?”
“Dude, it’s more than awesome!” He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“This is why I wanted to wait until we were alone. It’s personal, you know? It’s my promise to you that we’ll stick together. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine, no matter what life throws at us. Spirit Squad forever.” Daniel scooched closer and kissed him on the cheek.
That’s how it had been for the last five years, and that’s how Chris wanted it to stay for as long as he was alive. Even though they were getting older, and Captain Spirit and Superwolf should have been relics of their childhood by now, it was through that little game that they’d both met and bonded. It would always hold a special place in both of them, for as long as they were together. And this drawing would be a physical immortalisation of that.
“Forever,” Chris agreed.