Kiara popped the champagne, which was really just sparkling grape juice, while Maliyah ceremoniously tossed a handful of confetti into the air. The stocky conjoined twins made a full event of it, their laughter booming against the bare apartment walls.
Alexander leaned in the doorway, tall and lanky, his chocolate-brown hair brushing the tops of his shoulders as he smiled. His sapphire eyes caught the light from the kitchen window, and faint strokes of face paint, tiny acorns and green vine trails, added a whimsical flare to his sharp, thoughtful features. He wore a thrifted outfit made up of skinny-ish jeans, a white renaissance shirt gifted by Kiara, and a shiny necklace with a pendant shaped like an acorn.
"You two are ridiculous," he chuckled.
"Why? You're moving into your first place. That's worth celebrating," Maliyah said. Short dreads were tied back under a bandana, and her wide grin showed off a prominent dimple.
"It's the dingiest, cheapest apartment in town," Alexander said, glancing around at the cracked paint and leaning shelves.
"But it's your dingy, cheap apartment," Maliyah shot back with a wink.
"The first home that's all yours," Kiara added. She had her hair pulled into two glossy puffs and wore a denim jumpsuit splattered with paint from her job which was admittedly the coolest ever. She did face paintings at renaissance festivals and Maliyah sold handmade wooden figurines. Who could top that? Certainly not Alexander who bagged groceries and stocked shelves for a living. Still, the twins never gave him crap about it. Kiara's tone softened as she looked at him. "That's independence."
Alexander's shrugged modestly. "It is pretty surreal," he admitted, sweeping his gaze across the empty living room before turning back to them. "Wanna move in?" He was only partially joking.
The twins exchanged a look and shook their heads.
"I'm gonna have to room with this fuck-head for my entire existence. I don't want another person invading my personal space." Kiara teased, bumping her head against her sister's.
"But what if I get serial killed or something?"
"Don't be such a baby."
Alexander flipped Maliyah off for that chide with a grin and crossed the room to the counter, where a coconut cream pie.
"Who wants some?" he asked.
"Not us," Maliyah said, waving a pita chip. "I'M trying to keep our A1C in check so the 'pre' in pre-diabetes stays right where it is."
Kiara poured grape juice into their wine glasses, watching the fizz rise and pop like tiny fireworks.
"I'm still having a little juice and I promise to make up for the slice of pie I have," She defied despite Maliyah's huff of disapproval. "Just a little! It's a damn housewarming party."
The two of them had dicephalus parapagus. A rare condition where two heads were attached to a single torso, with varying degrees of shared internal organs. It led to endless battles between the twins of what they could put into their body. If it were up to Maliyah, they'd be a total health nut with little to no slip-ups, but if Kiara could call the shots, they would consume sugary substances by the hour.
"You'll still come paint my face some mornings, right?" Alexander asked Kiara with a hopeful glint in is eyes.
"Of course," Kiara said, rolling her eyes. "Though I can't believe you're still into that."
"I never said I was going to turn into a full blown adult the second I became one."
"Yeah, but you're twenty-three," she teased. "When does that transition actually start?"
"I'm out on my own now, so... I guess any day. But hopefully not too soon. I like fun. Sue me."
"For what? Your minimum wage?" Maliyah quipped.
"Fuck off," Alexander groaned, tossing a dishtowel at him. "You do remember friends are supposed to be supportive, right?"
"Supportive and pushy."
"Do butterflies on my face when you come by tomorrow," Alexander said, grinning again.
"Yes, your highness." Kiara grinned, cat like.
"I'll pay you in cream pies."
The room fell silent.
Alexander froze mid-bite. "You know what I meant!"
Laughter echoed off the empty walls.
Unpacking was a process, but Alexander wanted to rush through it, the way he did with just about everything. Kiara and Maliyah helped organize the living-room bookshelves. These days, books were mostly there for nostalgia and decor, since Alexander had long fallen off the bookworm train after high school. Still, he liked the prestige that came with being thought of as a page turning scholar.
His apartment had just one bedroom, cheaper that way, and he was only one man, after all. He started with the closet: jeans that hugged his long legs, medieval-style shirts, oversized hoodies, and T-shirts with logos he didn't recognize but had thrifted simply because they were stylish.
He made his full-sized bed with an ivy-green comforter, then lined the shelves with fake fruits that gleamed like something out of a realtor's daydream. Between them sat glass figurines and wooden trinkets carved by Maliyah, each piece small but sentimental.
Next came the walls: framed quotes he'd printed himself, paintings and sketches from his artsy friends, and a bulletin board he figured might make him look a tad more productive than he really was.
Alexander wasn't ambitious, not in the way people expected. Survival, stability, and a little comfort were enough. By sixteen, he'd learned that was all he truly wanted. If he ever allowed himself a dream, it would be to work at a roller rink. He'd loved skating long after his peers had grown out of it. There was something about the motion, the rhythm, the glide, that felt like flying. Maybe it wasn't the sort of success his mother had hoped for, but it was his own small version of freedom.
Maybe that seed of a dream would grow into something more one day. For now, though, he'd settle for stocking shelves and forcing the grocery stores to endure his presence.
"Don't go," Alexander sulked, embracing his friends.
"You'll live," Kiara teased, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
"Trust me," Maliyah said, her warm brown eyes steady. "You'll like the quiet so much you won't even want us to come back."
"Bull," Alexander muttered, pouting despite himself. But he let them go anyway. It was time to grow up, just a little.