It’s my birthday. Or it’s gonna be my birthday in less than two hours. I wanted to celebrate it in style, going to a concert and throwing a big party when the clock strikes 12. But alas. My curfew cuts through my plans like Mrs. Jonkheer’s voice though my musings in chemistry.

I have to be home at 11, which means I’ll have to leave in ten minutes. My gang has dispersed, because security chased them out. Which makes sense, since we broke in through the loading dock. 

They didn’t catch me though. But this does mean that our alcohol supplier Joshua is gone. I’ve tried to dance, because my body wants to. The music is begging for it. But even with my friends gone, people have been eying me weird as I moved. And I don’t want people to notice I don’t belong here, so I stopped. Now nothing's distracting me from the fact that I'm thirsty as fuck. I want another beer.

Or the lead singer of the band currently playing. I’d settle for that too. The guy is hot, shirtless, and sweaty. I feel like licking off his sweat to quench my thirst. I know it won’t, since salty liquids like that will only make a person thirstier, but I don’t let that useful piece of knowledge shatter my dreams.

I’ve been checking out the crowd to find someone specifically untrustworthy to ask to buy me a beer. I have the money, but not the 18+ bracelet I’m supposed to have if I want to order alcohol. Asking a righteous person though, would expose me to the risk of being thrown out. Or worse. This is why I’ve been standing there only figuratively drooling over the singer for forty minutes straight.

But if I’ve got to go in ten minutes anyway, I just might…

Leaned against the wall stands a guy with the biggest mohawk I have ever seen up close. He isn’t particularly handsome, but he’s seriously rocking the punk vibe, which is sort of bad-ass sexy. Tattooed arms, band-shirt with the sleeves cut off, multiple piercings in his face and of course, that mohawk. It’s green. He looks quite a bit older than me, probably mid- or late twenties.

I stand there eying him shamelessly, until he raises his eyebrows at me. I realise I am staring and avert my eyes. No sense in getting beat up for staring. But I’m intrigued, so I spare him another glance, and find him looking straight back at me.

I’m confident this is the dude to ask for beer. But suddenly I’m not so confident anymore that I am able to talk to him.

As our eyes meet, I feel the blood climb up to my cheeks. It gets worse when he curls up his lips in a roguish half-smile.

My heart is racing in my chest. Oh my god oh my god oh my god, is he like… interested in me?

I pull myself together and walk over.

“Hey.” I say.

“Hey, you lost someone?” his voice is low and a little gritty. It matches his look.

“Yeah, well um, I was looking for my friend. He was going to get us some beer, but he’s been gone for over half an hour…” I use my practiced speech.

“You’re cute.”

Wow, okay. My eyes widen, and I hesitate like the loser I am, instead of coming up with some awesome reply. I need to fix this. What would Iggy do?

“You’re sexy.” I say, then flinch at my own boldness.

“You think so? Well thanks…” he draws out the s as he looks me up and down, visibly amused.

My voice is stuck in my throat, adrenaline pumping like I am in a life-our-death situation, my body poised to start running. Or it could freeze like my voice has just done. So uncool…

Or…

I stick out my hand, reach for the guy’s neck and kiss him.

I felt his lips tremble as he gasps in surprise, but I suck on them anyway. Fuck everything. If someone’s gonna steal my first kiss, it’s damn right gonna be me.

My courage almost leaves me in that first two seconds, but then I can feel his lips relax against mine. He snakes a hand into my hair and slowly licks my lips with his tongue. It feels better than I ever imagined.

I dare to open my mouth to let his tongue in, and he immediately pushes it against mine. I can feel the tastebuds on our tongues glide against eachother. He tastes like beer. I relish in his rough kiss, and as he lays a hand on my ass and pulls me against him, I caress the stubble on the sides of his head. It feels like sandpaper under my fingers.

Kissing is great. Better than I expected.

I want to keep at it. Forever. I feel tall and strong and everything I’m not. His hand against the fabric of my clothes, his hand in my hair. The touch is intoxicating, the feeling of our lips and tongues gliding together all-encompassing.

No wonder everyone does this.

“Ooh. Hot.” A voice states by my ear. Startled, I pull away and find a woman smirking at me. She has an elaborate updo in red and black, and is wearing a matching pencil dress and crimson lipstick. She then turns to mister punk, whom she clearly knows.

“Bit young, isn’t he?” she chuckles.

Mister punk looks me up and down, and turns an apologetic look to the lady. “He suddenly kissed me.” He shrugs.

“It’s my birthday.” I say. Like it’s normal to kiss random strangers on your birthday. I don’t care that it’s nonsense. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe everyone does that. What do I know?

“Congratulations. I’m Lidwien.” The lady states, sticking out a hand. I shake it because what the fuck else am I supposed to do? I want to go back to kissing. Not have a chat with some tightly wrapped escapee from the 1950s.

“Ravi.” I reply.

“How old are you, Ravi?”

“Sixteen.” I tell her. It’s almost true.

She turns a shocked look of disapproval to mister punk. “Jesus, Pim.”

“How should I know he’s under eighteen!?” Mister punk, or Pim, throws up his hands.

“By the fact that he doesn’t have an 18+ bracelet, or you could just look at him instead of sticking your tongue down his throat.” Lidwien rolls her eyes.

He apologises ruefully, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry babe.” He’s not addressing me. He’s talking to her. I know, because he gives her a kiss to make up for his indiscretions: me being the indiscretion.

She smiles against his lips, trailing her long red nails over the shoulder of the guy I was just blissfully sucking face with. Her boyfriend, clearly. And I am dead. My body is still standing, but I have descended the mortal plane and entered hell. I’m sure.

“I- I’m s-sorry.” I stutter, completely panicking.

“It’s alright, we’re open. But you should go and kiss people your own age, Ravi. Have a nice birthday.” Lidwien says, dismissing me.

Pim gives me an awkward wave, and I bolt. My heart’s pounding in my chest as I reach my ditched coat behind one of the front-of-house speakers. I pull it on and run outside.

22.56. I’m officially going to be late.

I stand on the treadles to gain extra speed as I ignore traffic lights and the proper direction in the cycle lanes. I cut the curb to gain some extra seconds and finally show up at my house, drenched in sweat, my mind spinning, only four minutes late.

I hope my parents won’t notice, but my mother calls out my name as I enter the house.

“I’m sorry, there was a line at the coat-check counter!” I lie. It should be a sufficient lie for the four minute delay, but my parents are quite strict and I don’t want them lastminute cancelling Abby’s visit.

“Did you have fun at the concert, baby?” My mother asks, instead of scolding me.

“Yeah.” I say. Thoroughly surprised at her lenience. I notice my cheeks heat up as my answer involuntarily draws the blood to my face, thinking about the kiss.

My father notices. “Whohoho son, did you meet a cute girl?”

“Berend!” My mother scolds him. He just laughs it off, but thankfully drops the subject.

“We’re watching a James Bond rerun. Do you want to join?” He asks. I could say no. I want to, but they’re both looking at me so hopefully, that I indulge them. Abby’s coming over tomorrow, so I might as well be extra nice to avoid unnecessary restrictions.

I think I’ve seen the movie before, but I don’t really care. I just sit on the couch and think about the kiss. It didn’t really end as planned, but I’ve stolen my first kiss, and it was awesome. I hope this Pim wasn’t some sort of kissing prodigy… That would suck for future kisses.

If there are any future kisses. I never thought someone would want to kiss me, of all people. But apparently Pim didn’t mind. At least he didn’t mind before he knew I was sixteen, which I will be, soon. Maybe it’s because I took incentive that I got this far. I doubt he’d have approached me by himself.

Yep, I guess it pays out to act like Iggy would. It definitely did today. Maybe I should use that as my new go-to strategy?

Suddenly my brother bursts into the room. “Right on time!” He smiles, then plops down on the green couch between me and our mother, squishing my thigh in the process.

My mother looks at her phone and greets Jamie. They chat through the action scene I wasn’t paying attention to, but it’s annoying, nonetheless.

After a bit, she looks at her phone again, and puts the movie on pause. Then the three of them launch into an off-key happy birthday song. I’ve never felt more embarrassed.

After the awkward singing, my dad gets up to get drinks from the kitchen, and turns up with a bottle of sparkling wine. He hands it to me.

“Now I know you can’t legally drink, and that these new regulations are only there to protect your brain. But I think your sweet 16^th is exactly the place to bring out old traditions, so you can have one glass, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod, slightly surprised. Not because my dad thinks like this, I know he does. But because my mother apparently let him buy a bottle of alcoholic bubbles for his underaged son to enjoy.

I try to pull the cork, but my brother steals it from me. “Let me, otherwise it’ll spray all over the carpet.”

Jamie neatly pulls the cork and pours us four glasses. We clink them together, and my mother starts a toast with a whole ‘my little baby’s grown so much’ purport. She even sheds a tear. So embarrassing.

Then I get gifts. My parents go first. They’ve bought me a new phone, like I wanted. It’s not something super hip, like the iPhone 14 that Daniel has, or that foldable thing that some girls in my class walk around with. But this Samsung A13 isn’t three years old, and it doesn’t have a crack in the screen, so I’m happy. They even included a transparent casing, so that I don’t crack the screen it when I accidentally drop it, like the last one.

My brother has bought me JBL wireless earbuds, which I really appreciate. I didn’t ask for them, but he’s got the same ones and must have caught my envy every time I’m struggling with my corded ones.

I give all of them a thank-you hug, and clink my glass against theirs once more. The sparkling wine tastes abominable, but I pretend to love it. It’s the nice thing to do, and it’s a cool gesture anyway.

My mom tells me to take a family selfie with my new phone, and I oblige. Not because I want to, but to make them happy. I take four, because my brother keeps making weird faces. My face is weird as well, but it’s always like that. My dad says it’ll get better with facial hair, but I doubt it.

After that, we turn the movie back on to watch the final ten minutes, and drink our bubbles. After that, we all retire to bed simultaneously, although I think Jamie is going to sext his girlfriend for a couple of hours.

When I lay down in my bed, my back stumbles on something uncomfortably hard. I grab it and find an oblong box, probably carton. I turn the lights back on and see that its gift wrapped. There’s a note on there too.

[Happy birthday little bro. Didn’t want to hand you these in front of the parents. Have fun with Abby. 😉]

I know what it is before I unwrap it. I roll my eyes at nothing. It’s a sweet gesture, but how many times do I need to tell my family that Abby and I are just friends?! There is nothing of the sort going to happen. Not tomorrow, not ever.

But maybe it’s nice to think that my perfect brother at least believes in the possibility that I could get laid, despite being everything that he isn’t.