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The bottle nestled easily between the gaudily wrapped shapes in red and blue. The amber liquid sloshed slightly as it was set down. Voices floated in, cheerful sounds that spoke of the group’s approach. A second’s hesitation, and a lumpy shape crudely covered by green patterned paper was set down at the edge of the pile as well.
When four sides entered the room moments later, it was empty.
—
‘Who’s this one from?’ Logan squinted as Virgil held something up for them to see, a bottle with a label proclaiming it to be sparkling cider. An elegant gold ribbon was tied around its neck. A small collection of unwrapped gifts sat on the table- A new eyeshadow palette from Roman, cookies from Patton, and a comic from Logan written by the lead singer of one of those angsty emo bands Virgil was so fond of. There was also a mysterious green package that Virgil had avoided so far, assuming (likely correctly) that it was from Remus. It was wise to treat anything from him with a healthy dose of caution. If that was the case, it meant there was only one side who hadn’t yet offered something to Virgil for his so-called "birthday". Logan cleared his throat.
‘Ah- that was also me. You aren’t one to drink, so I thought something non-alcoholic would be preferable.’ The lie came suddenly, easily. As though somebody had offered it to him, ready made and itching to be told. Still, he felt himself relax at the genuine smile Virgil offered.
What was the harm in letting Virgil believe Logan was the one providing a gift he’d enjoy, when knowing the truth would likely upset him? Perhaps later, when they’d finished with the (modest, at Virgil’s insistence) celebration, he’d ask Patton if his action was wrong. Better yet, perhaps he’d ask the true benefactor why he’d offered something that would certainly be rejected. Not that he’d be likely to get a real answer.
Logan watched with mild interest as Roman held the green parcel at arms length while Virgil tore the wrapping off, using the very tips of his fingers to minimize contact with his skin. Ready for the worst, the pair wore identical puzzled expressions as the object was revealed. It was something akin to a snow globe, with a polished stone base and a dome filled with dark, inky liquid. From within the swirling mess, a tiny tentacled arm pressed against the glass, suction cups flexing as it anchored itself. Virgil made a sound of disgust, even as Patton and Roman cooed over it.
He should probably tell Virgil the truth. It wasn’t Logan’s job to keep secrets. But for now, he’d let the others enjoy their little party, even if technically none of them had birthdays. It was important to have something to celebrate, sometimes. To add a bit of joy to their lives. There was always later, for unwelcome truths.