One Year of You and I

February 10th

Monday, February 10th, 2014

Luke

   There was a giant body on me. 

   I was half-asleep, and there was a giant body on me. Hair tickled my forehead. 

  Sucking in for air, I opened up my eyes, which were still partly stuck together from all of the sleep. I raised the one free arm that I had and wiped at my eyes, only to see a face in front of my own; a grand smile playing at their lips. 

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY BROTHER.” 

  They had meant to sing it into my ear, but it had come out as more as a deafening scream. Now I couldn’t deny that I was awake. I shot up in bed, sending the body flying off of me, my eyes wide and my ears ringing. 

  “And good morning to you too, Lola,” I said. 

  She sat on the foot of my bed, still refusing to end her smile. She raised her hands in the air and let out a whoop. “Seventeen! My baby brother is seventeen!”  

  From my door, I could hear footsteps approaching, until my mother was standing in her robe with a face identical to my sister’s. In her hands was a cupcake, chocolate with red icing and a single candle stuck in the middle; an orange flame dancing on its wick.  

  As she began approaching me with slow steps, her and Lola singing “Happy Birthday”, me sitting up in bed, light-headed as I had gotten up so fast, I thought to myself, Oh yeah, it’s my birthday.

  The excitement that came with birthday’s and growing older (which I had been told would eventually come to an end) suddenly hit me, sending a smile on my own face. Now alert and sitting up in bed with straight shoulders, I took in my first acknowledged breath as a seventeen year old. 

  I was expecting to feel enlightened with this breath being taken in, but truthfully, it wasn’t any different from any other breath. Exhaling in what was now a regular fashion, I decided to just settle with being happy over the fact that today I was one year older. 

  My mother, now next to me, handed me my cupcake as the song came to and end. It was, and always had been, a Kalman ritual to wake up the birthday boy or girl with a cupcake. “Start the day off with good wishes,” My grandmother described. 

  Holding it in front of my face with my family staring at me expectantly, the cats running into the room to join in on the festivities, it took me no time to think of what to wish for. Letting out a deep breath in one exaggerated blow, I mentally wished for the same thing I wished on every year since I was twelve. With the flame extinguished, I bit into the moist cupcake, icing reaching the tip of my nose and crumbs falling all over my bedspread. 

  My mother sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, squeezing extremely tightly as she placed a kiss on my cheek. “Thirty-six hours of treacherous labor was all worth it for you, kiddie.” 

  I let out a cupcake-scented laugh. “Have I mentioned how glad I am to own a penis?” 

  Lola rolled her eyes at me. “What a boy.” 

  “My point exactly.” 

  My mother placed another kiss on my cheek before lifting herself off the bed and dusting off all of the chocolate crumbs. “We let you sleep in,” She announced, “so you better start getting ready if you’re going to make it to school on time.”   

 My family leaving me alone, I raised my arms in the air, hearing the cracks of my tired bones, and finally got out of bed, ready to take on the day known as my birthday.