Auggie nodded again.
In the tiny bathroom, Theo stripped down, showered, and jerked off, bracing himself with one hand against the wall. Then he saw Ian’s face, and he felt sick and dizzy and squatted under the spray, hot water needling his back, until he didn’t think he was going to puke. He cleaned himself up again, but he was shaking now, and he took a long time drying off.
When he came out of the bathroom, Auggie was still in Theo’s bed, his chest rising and falling slowly in sleep.
Theo turned off the lights and climbed in next to him. Once, near dawn, Theo woke and realized Auggie had wormed his way into his arms. Then Theo slept again.
9
When Auggie woke, Theo was in the other bed. The air was freezing, although the heating unit was still pumping steadily, and frost rimed the inside of the window. Auggie flopped around for a minute until he was facing Theo and said, “Cold.”
Theo, who was fully dressed and wrapped in the blanket on the other bed, said, “It’s not that bad.”
Auggie groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “What time is it?”
“Eight twenty.”
Auggie groaned again.
“It’s not that early,” Theo said. “You had morning classes last semester.”
“Yeah, and I hated every minute of them.”
“Huh,” Theo said.
“Except Civ 1, of course.”
“Right.”
“Because it was taught by the best grad student slash professor ever.”
“Ok.”
“The handsomest, smartest, bravest Shakespeare professor in the history of the world.”
“Foot off the gas, Auggie.”
Under the blanket, Auggie didn’t have to hide his smile.
Then he sat up, and the blanket fell away, and goosebumps ran across his skin. “Oh shit. Morning classes!”
Laughing, Theo said, “Crawl back inside your cave, Abominable Snowman. They canceled classes today, thank God; there’s no way we’re getting back to Wahredua any time soon.”
“They canceled the second day of classes?”
“Snow day.”
Wrapping himself in the blanket, Auggie said, “I’ve never had a snow day.”
“Well, usually they entail sleeping in, binge-watching Arrow, and drinking hot chocolate and eating cinnamon rolls. That is, if you don’t have kids. If you do have kids, then you spend snow days digging child-sized snow pants out of a box in the basement, putting on snow pants, taking off snow pants, putting on coats, taking off coats, putting on gloves, taking off gloves, and going sledding for a grand total of five minutes before she’s too cold and you have to start the whole process with the clothes again.” He was smiling, folding open a pocketsize edition of Lear against his knee. “And if you have a husband named Ian Moore, you spend almost the exact same amount of time just trying to keep track of that man’s gloves. I kept threatening to pin them to his sleeves.” For another moment, Theo was grinning to himself, staring off into the middle distance. “Anyway, that’s a downer for you to hear about. Sorry.”
“No,” Auggie said. “You look happy when you talk about them. That makes me happy.”
Blowing out a breath, Theo said, “I’m sorry I called you Ian, you know, before break.”
“It’s ok.”
“God, that’s so weird. I’m really sorry. I was drunk, and I don’t know. Obviously I’m still really messed up.”
“You’re not messed up.”
“Yeah,” Theo said quietly, folding the Lear shut now. “I think I am.”
“Arrow?”
“God, yes. Strand me on that island, please.”
“So you’ve got a thing for guys with great abs and showy muscles.”
“Of course,” Theo said. “Let’s go get breakfast.”
By the time Auggie had dressed, he decided the room might be habitable. “I think I’m only going to have frostbite in my fingers now,” he announced.
“Baby,” Theo said, tossing him his high-tops one at a time. “Luke and I shared a loft in the addition my parents built. Totally uninsulated. Well, Meshach and I shared it first. Then he wussed out, and Luke moved in.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope, Meshie is a total wuss.”
“Did you spend your whole life milking goats or something?”
“Not goats plural,” Theo said, “just the one.”
“Did you dry these?” Auggie examined the high-tops. “When did you do that?”
“I stayed up all night with a hair dryer.”
Auggie rolled his eyes, but he said, “This is amazing. I was dreading putting these back on.”
“Well, there you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Breakfast, Auggie. I’m hungry.”
Auggie followed Theo to The Lady’s Landau, which was open for business against every conceivable odd. The snow had stopped, and a thick layer crusted the roads, the trees, the buildings, the cars. Here and there, chrome or glass blinked out, but everywhere else the blanket of white glowed in the rising sun. It was like liquid light, poured out across the world, everything incandescent. Auggie had to blink to clear his eyes. The world even smelled like snow, which he hadn’t known was a smell: crisp and, to his mind, dry, although he knew snow was water.
Inside the Lady’s Landau, the aesthetic was pseudo-Victorian crossed with country antique: spindle-back chairs, clawfoot tables, white cotton-sack towels, enameled stoneware jars, one labeled ROCK CANDY – KIDS FREE – ADULTS 35C.
“Maybe we’ll get you a treat if you’re good,” Theo murmured as they stepped inside.
“I honestly think I hate you sometimes.”
Most importantly, The Lady’s Landau was warm, and it smelled like honey and ginger and pork sausage. When they stepped inside, Auggie immediately felt his fingers and nose begin to defrost. The dining room was empty, so Theo ushered Auggie to the back corner, and he sat so he could face the door. A few moments later, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a woman emerged with a tray of sticky buns.
“WELL, GOOD MORNING,” she shouted. That was the only possible way to describe it: a full-on shout. Auggie’s ears were ringing. “I’LL BE RIGHT WITH YOU.”
She settled the sticky buns in a glass display case, and then she came over. “WHAT BRINGS YOU TWO BOYS TO THIS PART OF THE WORLD?”
“Storm stuck us
