"Raven?" Catherine calls out.

After a moment, the door creaks upstairs.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Could you come down for a moment?" She nods at me and I flip the switch, turning off the lights.

There're footsteps on the stairs, and then Raven walks into the living room.

"What's with the lights...oh?" He stops in front of the little table with the round cake decorated with rows of candles that provide the only illumination in the evening gloom. He stares at the cake for a moment, then laughs. "Oh, how cute."

"Happy Birthday," Catherine shouts, pulling the cracker. We all jump at the banging sound, and then a surprisingly dense cloud of confetti fills the center of the room.

"Oh wow." She steps forward to protect the burning candles from the flying pieces, and looks around, shaking her head. "It's going to be tricky to clean this, but I guess I brought it on myself."

"Thank you," says Raven, swatting the confetti away from his face. "I'll help."

"You can help with the candles," she says.

He comes closer and knees in front of the low table.

"Boy, that's a lot of candles," he mutters. "Makes me feel old."

"Just do it," she says, smiling, and holds his hair back so that it wouldn't catch fire. "And don't forget to make a wish."

He takes a lungful of air and blows at the candles. As the last one goes off, Catherine cheers, and I flip the switch back on. The electrical light fills the room, making us wince.

"I baked it myself," Catherine says, letting go of Raven's hair as he leans closer to examine the cake. "I hope you'll like it."

"Is there chocolate in it?"

"Three kinds of it, yes."

"Then I'll like it."

"We'll see in a minute," she says. "But first, the presents! Would you sit there, please?"

"Presents?" he says, emphasizing the last 's', and gives me a somewhat flirtatious look as he moves to sit on the sofa. "As in 'more than one' kind of presents?..."

"Yes," I say, grinning against my will. "Just sit down."

He plops on the sofa, folds his hands on his lap, assuming his good boy posture, and looks at us expectantly.

"This is from me," says Catherine, retrieving a paper bag from behind the sofa and handing it to him. "Not surprising, for sure, since you have kind of told me what you wanted, but at least I picked a grey one, not black, you know. I thought perhaps we could introduce some variations to your wardrobe, color-wise."

She keeps talking while Raven unwraps and unrolls the dark grey hoodie with "Fake Drug" written on the back in white letters, and the picture of the band on the front. He examines it, then gets up and pulls it on over his thin long sleeved T-shirt.

"The size is just right," Catherine says, looking him over.

"Yes," he says. "Perfect."

"If you don't like the color, we can still return it. There's a recipe in the bag. I mean, I'm completely fine with that. I mean, it's better to change it if you're not going to wear it because of the color, so --"

"Grey's fine," he says. "Pink could have posed a problem."

"I'm glad," she says, and comes over to give him a hug. He seems surprised but accepts it without really participating in it, holding his hands palms out behind her back instead of squeezing her, which strikes me like a very sad way to hug.

"Now, it's James's turn," she says, pulling away. "I don't know what he got you, so I'm as curious as you are." She drops into the armchair and grins at me excitedly. "Go ahead!"

"All right, here we go," I say, retrieving the small paper bag from behind the drapes. "Don't expect a hug, though."

He chuckles. "I didn't." He accepts the bag and retrieves a baseball cap from it. "Oh, a "Fake Drug" cap? Nice. It will go well with the hoodie." He tries to put the cap on but then notices there's something in it. "What is it?"

He peers inside the cap for what feels like minutes, the remains of his grin dissipating, his frown deepening, his jaw gradually dropping. Then he looks at me with round eyes. "James?"

"What?"

"Is this real?" he whispers. "If it's a joke, tell me now. Please, James, just tell me now."

"It's real." I frown. "How badly do you think of me?"

His mouth opens wide and then he lets out a squeal that makes Catherine sits upright in her armchair, looking alarmed. The next moment, Raven throws himself at me, wrapping his arms and legs around me so that I stumble back and we both crush down on the sofa.

"You're fucking kidding me!" he yells. "You've got to be screwing with me! I'm going to see them live? No shit, James? You're my fucking favorite person in the world, you know that? I fucking love you, do you know that?"

I can see Catherine in the background, wincing at his string of curses. She catches my eye and mouths, 'What is it?'

"Two tickets to a 'Fake Drug' show in Harrisburg," I growl, trying to unglue Raven from me. "Come on, dude, let go. Seriously, you're overreacting."

I finally manage to unclasp his hands and then he slides down the sofa and sits on the carpet. With shock, I realize that he's crying.

"What is it?" I say. "Have I hurt you?"

"No, it's just..." He makes a vague gesture with the hand that still clasps the cap with the tickets. "I didn't...I didn't even consider I would see them live...and they're..." He looks up at me through the wet strands of hair sticking to his face. "They're expensive, dude."

"Not that expensive," I say, feeling Catherine inquisitive eyes on me. "Catherine helped, too." Her eyebrows go up, but she doesn't say anything. "I wanted to go see them myself, anyway. Calm down, it's just tickets."

He shakes his head and stares inside the cup again.

"Golden ring? Those're the most expensive."

"I figured if we go, we could as well be close to the stage."

"Where is it?" Catherine says calmly. "When?"

"Harrisburg," I say. "Next Saturday. I checked, it's about three hours drive. They open the gates at six, the main show starts at ten."

"Does it mean you intended to drive back for three hours in the middle of the night?"

I'm beginning to feel awkward under her cool gaze. It suddenly occurs to me that I'm so used to her always playing along with my ideas that I didn't even consider that I needed to ask for her permission. Now it strikes me like a very obvious thing to have done. Both I and Raven are still minors. She might just say no.

"You'll let us go there, right?" I say.

Raven wipes his face, and then we both look at her, waiting for an answer. She sighs, and then gives a barely perceivable nod.