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It was shaping up to be a birthday much like any other—which was to say, a birthday in which no one acknowledged anything special about the day and one on which, if Jean was lucky, he would be more or less left alone.
Of course, Jean had gotten rather used to not being left alone, which made this particular brand of birthday loneliness sting a bit more than usual.
Jeremy and Kevin had been acting strange all week—speaking together in hushed tones that cut off when Jean approached, being unusually vague about their outings—and it had peaked this afternoon, when they had rushed off together after practice, barely taking the time to make sure Jean had a ride home.
Even more unfortunately, his ride home was Allison Reynolds, who had apparently decided it was a good day to go through her entire locker before leaving the stadium.
“Sorry,” she said, flashing him a smile as she took out yet another bottle of some kind of skincare product. She frowned at the label a moment, and then she put it on the bench, next to about six others. “You know how it is—if you don’t go through them every so often and get rid of the expired ones, the smell gets funky.”
“We are in the locker room of a professional exy team,” said Jean. “There is always a funky smell.”
Allison wrinkled her nose. “True enough.” She sighed. “Do you mind if we make a pit stop on the way to your place? There’s a boutique on the way that’s basically the only place in this state that sells the shower gel I use for my post-game showers, and I’m almost out.”
Jean grimaced. “I would rather go home.”
“It won’t take long,” said Allison. “I swear, in and out. You’ll hardly know we stopped.”
The idea of waiting in the car while Allison shopped—or, worse, going into the store with her—sounded a little bit like torture. But, on the other hand, he had no idea what Kevin and Jeremy had run off to do, or when they would be back, and the idea of sitting alone at the home they shared while the two of them were off doing who knows what was somehow even less appealing. “Fine,” he said, feeling more than a little sorry for himself. “I do not have anywhere to be.”
“Great!” said Allison, either not picking up on his melancholy or choosing to ignore it. She glanced down at her phone, smiled, and looked back up at Jean. “Renee says hi, by the way.”
Jean made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement. Renee, at least, had remembered his birthday. She’d sent him a short and simple text that morning, but when he’d asked if she might be free later to do something—anything—to celebrate with him, she hadn’t replied. And, it seemed, she hadn’t mentioned his birthday to her wife.
He shouldn’t complain; it was far from the worst birthday he’d had. Some had involved actual torture. At the Nest, in the rare years in which his birthday had been acknowledged at all, he was pretty sure Riko had gone out of his way to make it a little bit worse than an average day. Today, at least, was utterly average.
Putting aside, of course, the fact that Jeremy and Kevin finally seemed to have realized Jean was extraneous.
And the fact that his best friend didn’t have time for him.
And the fact that, apparently, he was going to have to go shopping with Allison Reynolds.
She was putting the various bottles of products back in her locker; it didn’t look like she’d thrown any of them out, but Jean wasn’t going to complain if it meant they were actually going to leave soon.
“All right,” she said, finally, grabbing her bag. “Ready to go?”
Jean nodded and stood up.
“Great,” said Allison. “Let’s get out of here.”
He followed her out to the parking lot, where her car was the only one left. It was very expensive, very pink, and very small.
“You might need to adjust the seat,” said Allison, unlocking the doors with her key fob. “Renee’s usually the one in the passenger seat, and she’s, like, a foot shorter than you are, at least.”
“I am sure it will be fine,” said Jean, getting into the car. His knees pressed against the glove compartment, and they were bent up at an uncomfortable angle.
Allison looked at him skeptically as she started the car. “There’s a button, right there on the outside edge of the seat,” she said. “It’s super easy.”
“It is not a very long drive,” said Jean.
“Sure,” said Allison, “but it’s also, like, really easy to move the seat.” She tilted her head to the side. “You know you can do things just because they make you more comfortable, right? That’s a thing you can do now. No one’s going to get mad at you or whatever.”
Jean stared at her, eyes wide, feeling uncomfortably seen. “I will adjust the seat,” he said, finally, reaching for the button. He found it easily, and the relief was instantaneous as the seat shifted backwards and took the pressure off of his legs. He felt a little silly for resisting.
“Great,” said Allison, pulling out of her parking space. “Now, just one quick stop, and I’ll have you home in no time!”
Forty-five minutes later, Jean was starting to doubt Allison’s definition of ‘no time.’
“So sorry,” she said, “I just wasn’t expecting these new scents! It’s so hard to choose!”
“Buy them all,” Jean suggested. “You can afford it. I can afford it. I’ll buy them for you.”
Allison furrowed her brow. “I considered that,” she said, “but I don’t think I can get through more than two before they start getting old. And Renee’s been really getting on me about being less wasteful.”
“Get two, then,” said Jean through gritted teeth. He picked up two of the bottles Allison was considering at random. “These two.”
“Don’t you think those two are too similar to each other?” asked Allison seriously. “They’re both floral scents. I do like floral, but I feel like I should mix it up with one of the fruitier scents, or maybe something sweet.”
“Fine,” said Jean, grabbing another bottle at random. “Get this one instead, then.”
“Maybe you’re right, though,” said Allison. “I mean, how can I decide between gardenia and honeysuckle? They’re both so great!” Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it. “Actually, yeah, that’s it, I’ll get these two. Let’s go!”
Jean frowned. “I do not want to ask,” he said, “but is everything okay?”
“What? Yeah, totally!” said Allison, her voice a little too cheery. “Why?”
“You got a message, and suddenly you want to leave as quickly as possible,” said Jean.
“Oh,” said Allison, laughing a little. “Nothing’s wrong. Just looking forward to seeing Renee soon!”
“Right,” said Jean. He tried not to wonder whether Kevin and Jeremy would be home yet—and, if they were, whether they’d have any interest in actually spending time with him. “That must be nice.”
Allison shot him a look. “Aren’t you looking forward to seeing Kevin and Jeremy?”
Jean shrugged. Part of him—most of him—wanted to leave it at that. Allison was hardly someone he opened up to, and he was hardly the type to open up in the first place. But it was his birthday and he was feeling alone. “I do not know if they are looking forward to seeing me.”
Allison rewarded his vulnerability with a snort of laughter. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked. “They’re, like, visibly head over heels in love with you. It would be super annoying if not for the fact that it’s the only thing that makes Kevin remotely tolerable.”
Jean looked away. “It has not felt that way recently.” He paused. “I think they have been avoiding me.”
Allison frowned. “They’ve been—” A look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh. No. They haven’t been avoiding you. Or—well, maybe they have been, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But you have nothing to worry about. They’re just idiots. Let’s get you home,” she said, putting the bottles of shower gel down and heading towards the exit.
“Wait,” said Jean. “Aren’t you going to buy those?”
“No,” said Allison. “I’m good for a while. I’ll swing by some other time.”
“Then why did we have to swing by now?” asked Jean, confused.
“It’s good to shop for things before you need them,” said Allison, waving her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
Shaking his head, Jean followed Allison out of the store and back to her car. He was too tired to be properly annoyed; at this point, he was just ready to be home, and he wasn’t going to risk anything that might remind Allison of another incredibly urgent errand she had to cancel.
Fortunately, Allison didn’t come up with any additional stops on the drive between the boutique and Jean’s house, and she kept up a meaningless but generally pleasant monologue that required exceptionally little participation from Jean, so he couldn’t complain.
Well, he could, but he figured it wasn’t worth his time.
Finally, they pulled into the driveway. Jean had turned towards Allison to thank her and say goodbye when he realized she’d turned off the car. He frowned at her. “What are you doing?”
“This is still your house, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but—”
“Great!” she said, taking off her seatbelt and opening the door. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for a drink?”
“Why would I do that?” asked Jean blankly. He hadn’t moved from the passenger seat.
“Because it’s the polite thing to do.”
Jean was pretty sure inviting yourself over for drinks wasn’t a polite thing to do, but he didn’t think it would be helpful to point that out. “I thought you were anxious to get home to Renee,” he said desperately.
“She’s not home right now,” said Allison. “Come on, are you just going to sit in my car all day?” She only waited a moment before shrugging and starting up the front walk.
All of the options seemed questionable at best, but staying in the car by himself while Allison stood outside his front door—or, knowing her, found a way to break in—seemed marginally worse. “Happy birthday to me,” he muttered, and he got out of the car.
Allison graciously stepped aside to let him get to the front door first. “After you,” she said.
He shaped his face into either a smile or a grimace and tried the door—maybe Jeremy and Kevin were home already, and they’d unlocked it for him. He was only a little disappointed when the door stayed firmly closed. If he could get rid of Allison before they got back, she might not stay as long, and he could get back to his previously anticipated birthday of isolation sooner. He pulled out his keys and opened the door.
“Happy birthday!”
Jean nearly dropped the keys. Kevin, Jeremy, and Renee were all standing just past the entryway; there were red and gold balloons tied in bundles all around them, and a large banner reading ‘Happy Birthday, Jean!’ was hung over their heads. “What is this?”
“Surprise!” said Jeremy, grinning. “Do you like it?”
Jean put his bag down and looked around, trying and failing to take it all in. He noticed a small stack of gifts on the table behind them, next to what looked like a very elaborate cake that was much too big for five people. “It’s . . . all of this is for me?”
Allison gently pushed him the rest of the way inside and slipped past him, closing the door. “You’re the only one here with a birthday today, aren’t you?” she asked.
Allison was the only one whose birthday he wasn’t certain of, but since she’d been the one to ask the question, it seemed safe to assume it wasn’t today. He nodded. “Yes. I think so.”
Jeremy took a step towards him, anxiety starting to cloud his face. “Is it too much? You just—you mentioned last week that you’d never had a surprise party, and we knew you wouldn’t want a huge thing with a bunch of people, but we figured you’d still want some people besides just us, and it was easier for us to have a little help, so we just got Renee to come over and help with the setup, and then Allison was in on it to make sure you didn’t get home before we had everything ready, so we could still keep it small, but we can—we can turn this into whatever you want it to be. Today’s all about you!”
Jean just blinked at him, still a little bit stunned. “I thought you had forgotten.”
Kevin shot Jeremy an annoyed look. “I told you we should have told him what we were doing.”
“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise!” said Jeremy. He turned back to Jean. “Unless—is it bad, that it was a surprise? You mentioned it, and I got excited about the idea, but if it was a bad one, just say the word, and I’ll make it up to you and never surprise you again.”
“I love it,” said Jean quickly, Jeremy off before he could start nervously rambling again. “It’s—no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” He swallowed heavily. “Thank you.”
Both Kevin and Jeremy visibly relaxed, and Kevin gave him the quiet, genuine smile he reserved for Jean and Jeremy.
Renee was smiling, too. “You should be celebrated,” she said. “You should get to have the fun experiences you may have missed out on before.”
Kevin’s eyes clouded over a little bit. “We’ve got a lot of shitty birthdays to make up for.”
“And I vote we start now by not dwelling on the past,” said Allison. “Let’s get the party started! I believe I was promised a drink.”
“You promised yourself a drink,” said Jean, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling.
“I’ll get you something,” said Jeremy, leading Allison towards the kitchen. “Jean, can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he said.
“Usually, I would say that’s an unacceptable answer from the birthday boy,” said Jeremy, “but I know what you like. I’ll mix up something good!”
Kevin smiled after him, then looked back at Jean. “He really does, doesn’t he? Know us, I mean.”
“He does,” Jean agreed. They shared a look of understanding and wonder at just how far they’d come, just how lucky they were. Jean thought of the way Kevin had anticipated his insecurities, had wanted to tell him about the surprise before he had time to worry. “You do, too,” he added.
Kevin shrugged. “I try.”
“You all try,” said Renee, “and I think you’re all doing a very good job of it.”
A moment later, Jeremy and Allison came back in, handing out beverages. Jean took a sip of his; he wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it was rich and just a little bitter, and there were hints of maple—his favorite.
Jeremy held his glass up in a toast. “To Jean,” he said. “May this year be full of love and joy, and may all your birthday wishes come true!”
Jean clinked his glass against the others, and he smiled. “I think they already have.”