ALEX
We are throwing a huge party for our eighteenth birthday.
It just so happens that we celebrate it on the same day, almost as if we were some kind of astral twins.
It is also the first day that the tiny house Bay bought can officially be used for overnight purposes.
The house arrived three weeks earlier, and during that time Bay and I were busy finishing its interior. There is still a lot to do, but the bathroom already works, and of course the bedroom has a massive bed that we barely managed to squeeze inside.
The party itself takes place on the patio, and all his brothers are here except for the oldest, River, along with a few cousins, including Gabriel and Veyron, whom I’m always happy to see, especially Veyron, who is so much fun.
We also invited a few classmates, among them Dereck from our previous school.
It turned out Dereck is going to the same college as we are, so keeping in touch with him makes sense, and the interesting part is that Dereck ended up deciding not to take music as his major but math, just like me, so we will be attending college together.
Of course my dad is also invited, though he mostly spends time chatting with Bay’s dad and with Jordan.
Bay’s father, with Winter and Snow helping, arranged an amazing show of quiet fireworks, safe for birds.
Some guests are swimming in the pool, and for this day his parents have turned on the heating, which is usually off because it is expensive to run, but today they made an exception, so the water is full of people. Bay’s younger brothers and cousins are frolicking there.
There is a ridiculous amount of food, and interestingly it feels more like a family gathering than a typical eighteenth birthday party filled with drunk teenagers. It reflects the fact that Bay and I do not really hang out with many people. We do not have close friends, just acquaintances.
We spend a lot of time at his house instead, so our eighteenth feels more like a middle school family birthday than a party with a spin the bottle theme.
But I do not mind. Right now Bay and I are curled up together on a rattan lounger, watching the fireworks Winter and Snow send up every now and then.
At one point Dereck walks over to us and sits down on one of the seats.
We talk a bit about college, and then unexpectedly Dereck changes the subject and asks,
"So… do you already know your mateship level?"
That question would not be touchy in almost any other situation, except ours, because neither Bay nor I, for some strange reason, have fully matured glands yet.
They usually mature around seventeen, eighteen at most, which means that as of today we have officially joined the minority who reached eighteen without fully developed glands, without knowing our Allure, and without knowing our level of genetic compatibility.
Dereck can’t smell it, since he’s a beta.
Bay and I rarely talk about it, but we both strongly believe our compatibility will be really high because of how well we understand each other, and it is interesting how often that goes hand in hand, a really strong emotional and personality match paired with genetic compatibility.
So we never really worry about it, we do not discuss it, we do not spend time thinking about it, we both just accept the fact that we are late bloomers.
"No, we have no idea yet," Bay says, leaning slightly and tapping the spot where his neck meets his shoulder before shrugging. "Our glands are still dormant."
"What will you do if it turns out you’re not a good match?" Dereck raises his eyebrows.
"Dereck, we’re basically like twins," I say, a bit arrogantly. "Since we met, we haven’t argued even once. Can you believe that?"
"I can," Dereck mutters with a soft laugh. "And even if you’re genetically incompatible, you can always use suppressants. I know a couple that does that, but in their case they fight more than they get along, such a toxic relationship…"
I raise my eyebrows.
"Seriously? And their families accept that?"
In ABO society, relationships between genetically incompatible people are deeply condemned.
They are only slightly better regarded than relationships between siblings.
Nearly seventy percent of children born to incompatible partners are either not viable or have severe genetic defects that make normal life extremely difficult.
Such relationships are disapproved not only by culture and tradition but also by the state.
Incompatible people have trouble getting legally married.
Because the divorce rate in incompatible pairs is practically one hundred percent, no reasonable person chooses to stay in such a relationship.
Even people with low but still acceptable compatibility levels have better odds.
They actually stay together until the end in almost thirty percent of cases.
Still, I’m almost certain it won’t apply to us, because we’re like two well tuned parts of the same machine, in sync with each other in everything.
Besides, my dad once told me something funny, that both Lake and Aiden are his High Mates.
Their scents, as a mated couple, are muted and do not hit as strongly as they would in unbonded individuals, but the fact that my dad has such high compatibility with both of Bay’s parents is pretty convincing proof that I will at least have medium compatible levels too.
I once read an article showing that when members of two families have high compatibility with each other, it is almost impossible for children born in those families to be completely incompatible with one another.
When Dereck walks away, Bay leans closer and looks into my eyes.
"You’re not worried about what Dereck said, right?"
I shake my head.
"Of course not, no way."
I smile at him. His dark green eyes, framed by long lashes, study me for a moment.
"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow. Wear something nice."
"Where are you planning to take me?" I tilt my head slightly.
"It’s a surprise."
He lifts his hand, gently brushing my hair away from my face, and his eyes hold a kind of melancholy.
"Thank you for everything, Alex. Thank you for just being here. I don’t know what I would have done without you during these three and a half years since we met. I think I would be in a completely different place…"
"You would manage either way. You always do. You’re the strongest person I know," I answer quietly.
He gives me a sad smile and says, "Wanna dance?"
The music is playing, and of course there is an area set up where anyone who wants to can go dance. A few of Bay’s cousins are there, swaying to the rhythm, jumping around and goofing off, and we join them.
We dance, we bounce, we have fun, and I feel this wild joy bursting through me even though neither Bay nor I are dance masters, but we do what we can to have a great time.
Later we sit and go through the presents. Bay’s are mostly things for his new house, and mine are more on the electronic side.
Bay’s dad comes up to me last, handing me a long, flat box. I open it and find a beautiful ivory chessboard inlaid with gold and silver.
"Thank you so much," I say, blushing, because it is truly a beautiful and definitely expensive gift.
Lake pulls me into a warm hug and kisses my forehead.
"Alex, I wish you all the best, health and happiness and joy, and congratulations on your eighteenth birthday. You’re stepping into the adult world now…"
This is my chance to tell him.
"I’ve been wanting to bring this up for a while, and maybe now is a good moment. Bay asked me to move in with him, into his tiny house. But I want to make sure you don’t mind."
Lake smiles warmly.
"Not at all. I believe you and Bay will make the perfect couple. Who am I to stand in the way of true love?"
"Thank you. I’m really happy I’ll get to live close to your family."
"In a way, you’ve been part of it from the beginning," Lake hesitates for a moment, then suddenly says, "I’m not sure if you know this, but Bay and you first met on the day you were born."
I blink. "Really? My dad never told me."
Lake clears his throat. "He probably doesn’t remember."
"Was it in the hospital?"
He raises his eyebrows.
"No…"
"I don’t understand."
He bites his lip. "Well, let’s say the circumstances were difficult." His tone is evasive. "But yes, we and your dad met when we were both in late pregnancy."
I stare at him in surprise, and his turquoise eyes seem a little uneasy, as if he regrets bringing it up.
"Why don’t I know that?"
"Umm," he hesitates, "maybe your dad didn’t want you to know the details, because of the tragedy that happened back then."
"I don’t understand. What happened back then? What tragedy?"
Lake pales a little. He looks around, and his gaze lands on my dad, who’s sitting not far from the grill, talking to Jordan.
"I really thought you knew this. I’m sorry. It’s not my place to talk about it. I never even told Bay all the details, because there was a lot of emotion tied to that situation and I didn’t want to put that on him, but I was sure your dad told you the basic story. Sorry if I said too much…"
I pull a deeper breath into my lungs.
"Dad never told me anything. All I know about my past is that my father died before I was born. I never had any contact with him."
"That’s what your dad told you?" Lake lifts his brows.
"Yes, he died when I was still in his belly."
Lake swallows. "Okay, then I must have mixed something up, confused it, you know, it’s been so many years." I can see he’s stumbling over his own words. He squeezes my hand quickly and says, "Well, anyway, sweetheart, happy birthday."
Then he quickly walks off, clearly embarrassed, but I have no intention of letting it go.
I walk straight to my dad and ask if he can step aside with me for a moment.
Bay, who’s unpacking another box of fireworks, raises his brows in surprise but says nothing.
We walk deeper into the garden, and my dad looks at me questioningly.