“Are you ok?” Auggie asked, scrambling up. He knocked over some of the books, but Theo just stared at him. “Hey, um. Happy birthday.”
Theo laughed.
“I bet you’re ready for bed,” Auggie said.
“Yeah,” Theo mumbled. He pushed off from the jamb again, and this time he managed two steps before hissing and locking up. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Auggie, still waking up, felt pieces falling into place. “Where’s your cane?”
“Dunno.”
“Why didn’t I hear a car?”
“Cause I walked.”
Theo tried another step; his face screwed up with pain.
“Ok, what can I do?”
“Pills.”
“What?”
“Where are my goddamn pills?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t touch them.” Auggie looked around, saw the prescription bottle on the TV console, and grabbed them. “I don’t think you’re supposed to mix these with alcohol.”
“Give ’em.”
“No, I really think that’s a bad idea.”
“Auggie!” Theo drew himself upright, trying to make his face stern. “I said gimme those goddamn pills right now.”
“How about I help you sit down?”
“Those are mine. My pills.”
“I know. Let’s sit down, and then we’ll talk about your pills.”
After a moment to consider this, Theo gave a bleary nod.
Slipping an arm around Theo, Auggie helped him the remaining steps toward the couch, and then he used his body as a counterweight to lower Theo slowly onto the cushions. Theo hissed again. His eyes closed, and when they opened next, it was only halfway.
“Please, Auggie.”
“Why’d that asshole make you walk?”
“Didn’t make me.”
“Then why’d you walk?”
“Dunno. I’m a stupid fuck, guess.”
“I saw some ice packs in the freezer. You want those?”
Nodding, Theo said, “And my Percocet.”
“Yeah, right.”
In the kitchen, Auggie found a glass and filled it with water. Then he dug through the cabinets until he found a bottle of ibuprofen and dumped out two pills. He grabbed the ice packs and headed back to the kitchen.
“Open up.” Auggie didn’t give Theo a chance to look at the pills before pressing them into his mouth. Theo’s beard was soft and bristly at the same time under Auggie’s hand; his lips were full and lightly chapped. “Drink. Good. Now drink all of it.”
Theo was halfway through the water when he let his head fall back. “Two,” he muttered. “I don’t take two anymore.”
“You need two tonight,” Auggie said, settling one ice pack against Theo’s hip and the other against his knee, “because you walked so much. I ought to beat the shit out of that guy for letting you walk so far. Who was he?”
“Cart.”
“Why’d he let you walk?’
“Didn’t. Followed me in his truck all the way to my street.”
“Jesus. Guess your date didn’t go the way you wanted.”
Those half-open eyes fixed on Auggie. “Nope,” Theo said quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
To that, Theo didn’t respond. His lidded gaze remained fixed on Auggie as the seconds ticked past, and Auggie was suddenly aware of the tightness of his own skin, of the slight quickening of his own breathing.
“I don’t think we can get you upstairs,” Auggie said. “Can you sleep on the couch?”
Theo mumbled something.
“What?”
“’Bout you?”
“Oh, it’s fine. I should get home anyway.”
Theo started mumbling again, and then he levered himself upright, grimacing through the whole process, batting away Auggie’s hand when he tried to push Theo back into his seat. Once upright, Theo began tearing cushions off the couch.
“So you’re kind of a crazy drunk, huh,” Auggie said.
“Ta da!” Theo grabbed a handle set into the couch’s frame, tugged, and howled as he pivoted.
“Ok, ok, how about I do this part?” Auggie said, pulling out the bed. “Sheets?”
As Theo sagged forward onto the bed, he waved at the stairs.
Auggie waited for some sort of warning, like the one Theo had given him before leaving—don’t go upstairs—and when nothing came, he sprinted up the steps. There were two bedrooms with sloping ceilings: one had pink and white striped wallpaper, a toddler-sized bed, a dresser, and a rocking chair. Auggie’s heart gave a lurch when he saw the room. The other obviously belonged to Theo; clothes were folded and stacked on one side of the bed, while the other was rumpled and unmade, and Auggie’s heart gave another lurch.
He found sheets and a blanket in the linen closet and carried them back downstairs; Theo was watching him through that slitted gaze.
“You see Ian’s stuff?”
“I didn’t snoop,” Auggie said.
“It’s all his stuff. Don’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.”
Auggie worked the fitted sheet over the mattress. “You don’t have to do anything with it right now. You can take as long as you want.”
“And Lana. Don’t have any idea what to do about Lana.”
“Can you get up for a minute? I need to finish putting the sheets on.”
Instead, though, Theo rolled onto the half of the mattress Auggie had already made up.
“That’s great,” Auggie said. “That’s very helpful.”
“Leg,” Theo said into the bedding.
“Yeah, yeah.”
When Auggie finished, Theo tried to kick off his sneakers. He’d get as far as catching the heel of one shoe with the toe of the other, and then he’d slip and start the whole process over.
With a sigh, Auggie reached down and tugged them off. Then he settled the ice packs in place again.
“Ok,” Auggie said. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not taking your pants off for you.”
“Clear.”
“I guess I’m going to go.”
“Don’t go.”
“Yeah, you’re going to be asleep in five minutes, and you’ve got everything you need.”
“Don’t go.”
“Theo—”
“I hate this fucking house. I hate this house. I hate it. Please don’t go.”
Auggie had that feeling again of too-tight skin, of breathlessness.
Sitting up, Theo tried again for a serious expression. “I will burn this fucking house to the ground if you leave. I will.”
“Ok.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’ve got gasoline in the—in the—” He screwed up his face. “What’s it called?”
“Honestly, you are the worst drunk I have ever met.”
“In the garage!”
“I
