“Well, what do you think it means?”
“I’m not dumb—”
“If I thought you were dumb, I’d just tell you the answer.”
For a moment, Auggie was silent, his thumb rubbing the page. Then he said, “Digest sounds like eating, I guess. And a dower is like their inheritance.”
“Close enough.”
“Ok, so these two daughters are going to eat the other dower. Like the crops or something?”
“A little less literally,” Theo said, not able to stop a small grin.
“They’re going to take it over.”
“Yeah, pretty much. Eat it. Kind of a figurative way of saying consume it. Absorb it.”
Auggie’s thumb stilled on the page. “Huh.”
And then they both went back to reading.
Ten minutes later, Auggie had flopped onto his back again. He laid the book open on his chest, grabbed his phone, and then tossed the phone back down.
“Why haven’t I heard of this?”
“What? Lear?”
“Yeah. The introduction is about all these people who say it’s Shakespeare’s best tragedy. I’ve seen Hamlet. Ok, just part of it. In high school. And we read another one about a black guy when I was a sophomore.”
“Othello.”
“I’ve never heard of this one.”
“That’s a really, really good question,” Theo said. “Actually, that’s one of the most interesting questions in scholarship on Lear. People are seriously divided about it. About seventy-five years after Shakespeare died, a man named Nahum Tate made his own adaptation—which we’ll be reading, so you can look forward to that. It has a happy ending, and it was way more popular than Shakespeare’s version.” Theo stopped. “Sorry, you’re getting a reader’s digest version of my thesis.”
“No,” Auggie said. “I like it. I haven’t seen you look like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Glowy,” Auggie said with a shrug. “Excited.”
“Yeah, well, about five more minutes would have put you to sleep, trust me.”
Auggie didn’t answer, and they both went back to their books; after a minute, though, Auggie’s leg slid down, resting across Theo’s good knee. Theo knew he should say something, got ready to say something, had it all perfectly clear in his head. And then he didn’t say anything. He just tried to read essays and called himself every kind of fucker imaginable.
They spent the rest of the day like that. Auggie ordered Chinese delivery without Theo realizing, and then he wouldn’t take any money from Theo when it came. They ate orange chicken at the table Ian had refinished. Theo considered a White Rascal, but he decided against it. It felt weird, drinking in front of a student. That was the reason at the top of his brain.
“Let’s see your clothes,” Auggie said as he dumped the paper cartons in the trash.
“No way,” Theo said.
“I’m not going to a party with you looking like I got you out of a nursing home.”
Theo decided the best answer was no answer as he made his way to the stairs. He could hear Auggie coming after him.
“Set one foot on these steps,” Theo said, “and see what happens.”
“Are you always this grouchy before a party?”
Theo tried to go faster on the stairs.
“Is it social anxiety?” Auggie called after him.
Parties, in Theo’s life, had mostly consisted of getting wasted with Luke and their high school friends, usually in Eddie Scharf’s basement, usually with a keg that Eddie’s older brother had bought for them. When Theo had finally gotten to college, he’d been too old for Greek life, and he’d met Ian quickly, and then partying had seemed like a kid thing to do.
Standing in the closet, he slid hangers along the rod. All his clothes were dirty because, of course, his life had been a time-lapse landslide for the last two months. Now he was looking at Ian’s clothes, and his stomach was sour, and his heart was hammering in his chest.
“I can come help you,” Auggie shouted.
Theo grabbed one of Ian’s shirts, one that he’d really liked on Ian, navy with pink flamingos, and he did up the buttons and then had to redo them because his hands were shaking and he’d done them all wrong the first time. Ian’s pants were too small for Theo, so Theo dug out a pair of relatively clean jeans and pulled them on. He found chukkas that Ian had told him to wear when they went out to dinner, and he even found a pair of clean socks. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and asked himself what the fuck he was doing.
Auggie was on his phone when Theo got downstairs. When he glanced up, he cocked his head, and then he stood. He came across the room and reached for Theo like he wanted to hold his hand.
Theo jerked his arm back.
“Ok,” Auggie said, drawing out the word. He moved more slowly and caught Theo’s sleeve. Then he began rolling it up until it was cuffed neatly above the elbow. He repeated the process with the other sleeve. Then he stepped back and nodded. “Yeah, ok.”
“A ringing endorsement,” Theo said.
“You look hot,” Auggie said. “That better?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Come on, I need to stop by the dorm and change.”
Theo shut off the window unit and locked the door behind them. Auggie was on the driveway, rocking on his heels. He glanced at the Malibu.
“If you want,” Auggie said, “I could—”
“No.”
Auggie nodded.
The night had cooled off considerably, and it was starting to smell like autumn, the crisp air that Theo associated with the season. The sky ran from purple to black. Across the dome, stars blurred into the town’s light pollution.
Auggie had that look in his eyes, like he wanted to say something about how sorry he was.
Before that could happen, Theo started walking, and Auggie joined him.
They were halfway to town before Theo realized he hadn’t even thought about the Percocet.
15
Auggie stopped Theo a block away from the Alpha Phi house; even at that distance, music thundered from inside, and expensive cars clogged the street. Guys and girls, some in groups, some alone, headed toward the party. Some of them looked
