“Yeah, ok.” Auggie took a breath. “Please?”
“Fine. Yes. Christ, you are worse than Luke, do you realize that? At least Luke didn’t try to seduce me.”
“Thank you, Theo. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“I’ll talk to a friend and see what I can find out. I think we can wrap this up by Monday.”
“Oh my God, you are amazing. Thank you.”
“Give me your number; I’ll text you when I’ve got an update.”
He slid a piece of paper to Auggie, and Auggie scribbled down his number.
Theo folded the paper and put it in a pocket. He looked at Auggie. Someone was walking down the hall, heels clicking.
“Right now,” Theo said, “I should probably get some work done.”
“Yeah,” Auggie said. “Sure.”
Another long moment ticked past; something happened inside the computer, and it made a series of soft beeps. The knot of tension inside Auggie tightened. He would have to walk across campus alone, head up to his dorm alone, stand in that room again, alone, even with a hundred thousand followers. He’d be alone, unless Orlando popped in, if Glasses came back. He’d be alone if someone else was already there, waiting for him.
“So,” Theo said, nodding at the door, “if you want to—”
“Can I do something? Do you want me to grade quizzes or make copies?” Auggie tried to grin. He tried to look casual. The roil of fear, floating above the mixture of embarrassment and disappointment at having Theo move his hand aside so casually, made his face twitchy. “I’ll sharpen pencils. Do you need me to sharpen pencils?”
“This isn’t a 1950s schoolhouse,” Theo said. “Look, I’ve got a lot to—oh.”
“I swear I can make copies. I had to make copies all the time when my mom was selling real estate.”
“You know what?” Theo said, grabbing his cane. “I could use a walk. You mind going with me?”
“Sure.”
“And maybe you could show me your dorm room. I’d like to take a look. You know, in case this guy left any forensic evidence.”
“See?” Auggie said. “You even sound like a cop.”
Theo grabbed a satchel and limped after Auggie toward the door; Auggie hadn’t remembered the limp being that bad in class.
At the door, Auggie paused and looked Theo in the eyes. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah?”
Auggie nodded. “Thanks.”
He had only known Theo a short time, but he thought he was seeing the first genuine smile behind that beard: soft and reserved and very, very cute.
“It’s that freshman transition-to-success program,” Theo said, pulling the door shut as they stepped out into the hall. “We’re full service.”
10
Theo left Liversedge earlier than usual that day. His leg was on fire as he biked to the Piggly Wiggly. Walking across the quad to Moriah Court, taking the stairs up to Auggie’s apartment to make sure the kid felt safe, and then walking back had been torture on his already throbbing leg. At the store, he got brats and a packaged potato salad and one of those bagged salad kits. He also got beer. He started with three six-packs of White Rascal, and then he realized he was being stupid and added a fourth.
The little brick house was dark and waiting for him, the September sun low enough to frame the chimney when he got home. Now, every time he took the front stairs, he thought of Cart bitching about the risers, and he thought he could feel the treads sagging. He carried the groceries into the kitchen, locked the front door, and went out to the deck to get the grill ready. While the coals started in the chimney, he stretched out on the couch, an ice pack on his hip, another on his knee.
His weekend plans, ever since June 9, 2013, had been easy and simple: Percocet, beer, and the closest thing to a coma that he could manufacture inside the walls of his own home. As soon as he had some food in his stomach, he’d begin Operation Get the Fuck Out of His Own Head.
But, stretched out on the couch, he found his mind was restless. Instead of thinking endlessly about the pills and the White Rascal, he kept thinking about stupid stuff from the day. The visit to Downing, that morning, of course. But then other things. The way his blood had sung in his ears when he’d busted that motherfucker’s nose. The way his whole body had reacted when Auggie’s knee bumped his own, something zipping through his chest. The boys he’d seen kissing on a bench when he hiked across the quad with Auggie. The hot smell of the mulch. The way Auggie had said thank you. Luke.
The icepacks softened as they melted. The throbbing in his hip and knee faded. In the front yard, a robin sat on a branch of the cherry tree, and Theo ran his hand through the condensation beading on the icepacks, watching. There was a whole world out there. And then the robin was gone in a fluttered-up movement, its reddish-orange breast twisting away, and Theo blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Outside, as he shifted the coals, he called Cart.
“What do you want, you miserable son of a bitch?” Cart asked in his politest voice.
“Do you like brats?”
“Does the pope wear a funny hat?”
“I’m grilling brats.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“You’re the cop. Call for backup if you can’t figure it out.”
Cart was laughing when Theo disconnected.
The September night cooled off a little as the sun set, and a breeze picked up, carrying the smell of old-growth forest from the tree line. It mixed with the charcoal, the searing meat, the taste of coriander from the beer. Theo thought maybe he could do just half a pill tonight. Half a pill seemed really reasonable.
“What are you doing, asshole?” Cart asked as he came around the side of the house. He was carrying a six-pack of Big Wave; droplets glistened on the bottles.
