Theo: Hey! It’s 24”.
Auggie: now u can watch all ur dirty shows again
Theo: Maybe you could do something like this for your blog?
Auggie: still not a blog so quit calling it that
Auggie: something like what? buy a tiny TV?
Theo: Why isn’t it a blog?
Auggie gave him another few seconds of lead time.
Theo: Hey! This TV got great reviews!
Auggie leaned out over the balcony, staring at the spread of lights below him, tasting the cool, dry air that he’d missed in Missouri. He thought Theo would like this place. Not to live. But for a visit, maybe.
The phone buzzed again.
Theo: You could do a spoof of A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.
Auggie: ohmygod how old r u
The semester rolled on like that until finals week, and Auggie was shocked to realize that he’d be going home in three days and wouldn’t see Theo for almost a month. Their final in Civ 1 was an in-class, timed essay, and Auggie needed the whole time. Apparently so did everyone else. When Theo asked everyone to turn in their work, there was a lot of groaning, scribbling, frantic pawing at volumes of Lear. After a few grace minutes, Theo asked for the essays again, and students began packing up their bags, handing in the essays, and filing out of class. A few of them thanked Theo for the class, shaking his hands. Theo got a little pink in the cheeks and had his little smile and rubbed his beard like he had no idea what to do, and Auggie had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn’t explode from watching the whole thing.
Then Auggie was the last student in the room.
“What are you grinning about?” Theo said, shuffling papers.
“What? Nothing.”
“Essay time’s over, Mr. Lopez.”
“I figured you’d be willing to make an exception. Give me a few extra minutes.”
“Not a chance.”
“What’s the point of being friends with the professor,” Auggie said, grabbing his essay and taking it up to Theo, “if I don’t get any perks?”
“The perk is that I let you eat chips on my couch and get crumbs between the cushions.”
“And I like that perk very much. Want to go ahead and just put an A on there right now?”
“Very funny.”
“It’s good.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s going to be the best one.”
Theo packed the essays in his satchel. “I guess I’ll see.”
“Probably bump my ninety-seven in this class up to a ninety-eight.”
“If I didn’t see how hard you worked and how many bags of Doritos you ate, I might think you were a little cocky.”
“I like Cool Ranch. Sue me.”
Theo’s gaze moved to Auggie’s face, and those strong, hard hands played with the strap of his satchel, winding it around his fingers, undoing it, winding it again, then letting out the slack.
“Auggie, I wanted to talk to you about something now that the semester is basically over. I’m not going to be your instructor anymore, and I guess I think now is the best time to say this.”
“Oh.” Auggie reached back, trying to find a desk, a chair, anything that would keep him upright. “Um. I guess I, uh, kind of wanted to talk to you too.”
“Ok,” Theo said. “Go ahead.”
“Uh, no, you first.”
“I think you should change your major.”
For a long moment, the hiss of blood in his ears was the only sound Auggie could process. He knew that he managed to say something like “What?” but it was somebody else saying the word.
“I’m not trying to diminish the importance of your internet thing, but I think you’re wasted in a Communications major.”
Auggie stared at him.
“You’re really good at this stuff.” He touched the satchel. “Really, really good. I’m not saying you should exclusively be an English major, but it’s an easy one to add as a double.”
The heat bloom at the words you’re really, really good at this stuff helped Auggie over the worst of the pain. He smiled. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
“I just wanted to tell you officially, as your instructor, that’s how I see you.”
“Yeah,” Auggie said. “That’s how you see me. As my instructor.”
“Right.”
“Ok,” Auggie said. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
“If you want to talk about—”
“Yeah, ok. Let me just think about it.”
Theo blinked. “Sure.”
“I guess I’d better go.”
“Actually, there was one other thing,” Theo said.
Auggie hated himself for hoping. Auggie hated himself for that electric zing that started low in his belly and ran up to his lungs so he couldn’t breathe. He hated himself for the way he felt when Theo smiled, when Theo said you’re really, really good, hated himself for the way he kept playing it on a loop because it made him feel so good. And so shitty, too. At the same time.
“Oh,” Theo said. “Wait. What did you want to say?”
“What?”
“You said now that it was the end of the semester, you wanted to say something.”
“Oh, yeah. That. About the major. I wanted to ask you what you thought.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
Theo was scrubbing his beard again. “Ok. Well, I wanted to tell you: I drove home over the weekend, and I found it. Actually, that’s not right. I figured out what it’s for.”
“Sorry,” Auggie said, and it was like a delayed explosion was happening, his chest crumpling, his face stinging, his eyes hot as the full extent of what Theo hadn’t said began to sink in. Auggie hadn’t even known, until now, what he’d been hoping for. He hadn’t even put it into words. “I’m kind of—my brain’s somewhere else. What are you talking about?”
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, yes, God, what are you trying to say?”
“I matched that sign,” Theo said. “The one outside Robert’s apartment. I know what business it belongs to.”
24
Another class needed the room in Tether-Marfitt, so Theo led Auggie back to his office in Liversedge. Snow had come earlier that week, and it lingered as slush on the sidewalks. Theo had
