Theo went to Downing Children’s Healthcare Center after Wagner’s horrible class. The bus ride gave him time to process the uncomfortable sheen of sexual arousal that had overlain Wagner’s lecture. At Downing, he packed up those thoughts and signed in, and then he spent a couple of hours with Lana. His daughter had been seriously hurt in the same car accident that had killed his husband, and although Lana was getting better, the doctors had warned Theo that the most serious disabilities were likely permanent. He held her, her little helmet bumping against his shoulder. He read to her. He checked her for bruises and for signs of bedsores. He didn’t cry anymore on the ride home, the way he had for much of the first year. He leaned against the window, watching the city ebb around him. The bus’s vibrations passed through his head; they ran all the way through him. Mostly, he felt hollow. By the time he got home, he had almost convinced himself that he had forgotten about Auggie and the shock of seeing him in Wagner’s class.
Inside the small brick house, he flipped on the window unit, kicked off his shoes, and carried them upstairs. Two bedrooms were snugged up under the eaves: a larger one, which he had shared with Ian, and the smaller one that had been Lana’s. He’d started the process of moving their stuff into the basement over a year ago, shortly after the accident. He’d mostly finished with Ian’s stuff—he’d left a few trinkets on the dresser, a few of Ian’s shirts that he liked to wear—but Lana’s room was still a work in progress. He tossed the shoes in the closet and changed into shorts and an AC/DC tee.
His phone buzzed, and he saw Cart’s name on the screen.
“Are you still mad at me?” Theo said.
A slight pause. “Fuck, that’s how we’re going to start?”
“Yep. Answer the question.”
“No, I’m not mad at you. Christ, Theo, I wasn’t ever mad at you.”
“So, the new routine is that I blow you, and you don’t answer my texts for three days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“This is not the day to test my fucking patience.”
“I’ve been busy. Jesus, Theo. Jesus Christ. Is that so hard to believe, that I’ve been busy? Do you know how they’ve had us running around ever since these demonstrations started?”
“Ok,” Theo said and disconnected.
The phone buzzed again. Theo let it go to voicemail. It buzzed again, this time a text message: I’m coming over to help with the garage. I’ll make it up to you.
Sticking your knob down my throat isn’t a way to make it up to me, Theo texted back. Then he sent a second message: Don’t come over. I’ll clean out the garage myself.
This is fucking bullshit, Cart wrote back.
Theo closed the flip phone. Then he opened it again and powered it off. He stood there, thinking about the line of pills he’d taped to the back of the electrical box of the outlet in his bedroom.
Instead, he went downstairs, got the peanut-butter knife out of the fridge, and was mortaring together two pieces of bread with a good layer of peanut butter when the knock came at the door. His first thought was that it was Cart, driving over here to apologize and, of course, fuck around. Theo was holding the peanut-butter knife in one hand and the sandwich in the other as he marched to the front door. He had the vague thought that he might have to stab Cart to teach the motherfucker a lesson.
With a little juggling, he managed to get the door open, and then he said, “No. Not today.”
Auggie was standing there in a pink polo and blue chinos, sockless in loafers, his crew cut perfect as always. He stood with his arms folded, his shoulders hunched, and he said, “Hi, Theo.”
“I don’t want to be rude,” Theo said, “and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but please go away.”
Then he shut the door.
Theo went back to the kitchen, opened a can of White Rascal, and poured it into a pint glass he kept in the freezer. The whisper of cold air made him close his eyes, and he rested his head against the freezer. Then he went back to the front door.
Auggie was sitting on the steps.
“Auggie, come on.”
Auggie looked over his shoulder at Theo and shrugged. “I know I messed up. When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be here.”
“This is blackmail. This is emotional blackmail.”
“Would you feel better if I waited at the end of the block?”
Theo swallowed a scream. When he trusted his voice, he said, “Just get in here.”
Auggie’s footsteps followed him to the kitchen. Theo took a bite of his sandwich and then a gulp of beer.
“That looks good,” Auggie said. “Got one for me?” Then he put up both hands, a tentative smile crossing his face. “Kidding.”
They stood there. Auggie wiped sweat from his forehead. He still looked like he was trying so goddamn hard to smile.
“Do you want some water?” Theo asked.
“Sure.”
So Theo got him a glass of water.
“Do you want to sit down?”
“Do you want to sit down?”
Theo closed his eyes.
“I mean, whatever you want,” Auggie said. “That’s all I was trying to say.”
“Just sit down.”
So Auggie sat.
“Do you want a sandwich?”
“I don’t know. Have you washed the peanut-butter knife since the last time I was here?”
Theo stared at him.
Auggie took a sip of water. Then another. He smiled and said, “This is really good water.”
“Oh my God.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say! I mean, you were my best friend before I left, and then you started dating Cart, and I screwed things up because I stopped texting you, and then I screwed things up again by being a jerk when I got back, and I miss you so much that I don’t know what to do sometimes, and then I came over here to apologize and you made me drink a glass of water, and I honestly don’t know what to say!” Auggie took a deep breath and combed his fingers through his dark hair. “Ok. I know what to say. I’m sorry, really sorry, for how I treated you, and I won’t do it again, and I hope you’ll forgive me because I was serious about you being my best friend and I don’t know how to handle you being mad at me.”
Before he could do the next part, Theo had to chug the rest of the beer.
“That bad?” Auggie said. He looked like he was about to cry.
“I’m sorry too,” Theo said, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.
Auggie blinked. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you about the car, but I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I just thought—I mean, I know you like cars, and I thought maybe you’d appreciate it. I realize now that I sounded like a dick.”
“You didn’t sound like a dick. I was just being too sensitive.”
“And I’m sorry about Cart. I mean, I’m not sorry about dating him. Well, today, actually, I am kind of regretting it. But I’m sorry about how I told you. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to be friends with you anymore.”
Auggie’s dark eyes were fixed on Theo, and as always, Theo felt the same dangerous, prickling heat in his gut.
“You’re kind of regretting it?”
“Oh no. We’re definitely not doing that.”
Then Auggie smiled, a real Auggie smile, the one that was so huge and innocent that sometimes Theo couldn’t believe it was real. “So, friends?”
“Friends.”
“Friends with benefits?”
“Auggie.”
“Kidding! Mostly kidding.”
Theo shook his head and cracked another White Rascal, and they moved out to the living room. Somehow, that opened the floodgates, and they both started to talk. Auggie told him about summer, about the weirdness of seeing his ex-girlfriend after he had come out, about his former buddies who avoided him, and about how they’d come crawling back when they’d seen the number of Auggie’s online followers surge. Theo found himself talking about his thesis, about short-distance hikes, about his visit home for Fourth of July. He got another beer and talked about things he was surprised he could talk about. He talked about Lana. It was like last year. In some ways, it was better than last year because it was so good to talk to Auggie, because Theo had Cart as a buffer, and he could laugh a little louder, lean a little closer, touch Auggie’s arm and leg and smile and have Cart like a safety net. He even heard himself talking about Cart.
“And then he still didn’t apologize. He just texted to say he’d ‘make it up to me.’ Whatever that means.”
Auggie’s face was unreadable. “It sounds like things are pretty serious. I mean, if you’re getting this upset over him. That’s not a bad thing. Just an observation. Are you in love with him?”
Theo groaned.
“It’s a fair question.”
“I don’t know. I mean, sometimes I think a part of me is broken, and—” Theo ran a hand through his hair. “And I should not have had that third beer because I was definitely never going to talk to you about Cart.”
“You can talk to me about Cart.”
“Nope. No.” He got up. His knee was still screaming at him from the long walk across town on Sunday, and it had stiffened up again while they sat. A few months ago, he would have been rattling his bottle of Percocet, but Cart had taken possession of the pills—or so he thought—and he was a stingy motherfucker when it came down to it. “Christ,” Theo said, massaging his leg. “I’ve got to finish the garage. That was the only project I wanted to get done before school started, and I didn’t do it.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Auggie, come on, it’s hot outside, it’s crappy work. You’ve probably got homework.”
“No, not today. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Absolutely not. You’d ruin your clothes.”
“So just lend me something,” Auggie said, already wriggling out of his shirt. He had small, dark nipples against the light brown of his skin. “There’s no way you should be doing that kind of work with your knee jacked up again.”
“I don’t want you doing manual labor for free at my house,” Theo said, trying to keep his gaze at eye level.
Auggie went limp, sprawling on the sofa like he was dead. “You are this unending tangle of drama. You know that right?”
“Ok.”
“I’m helping you because you’re my friend. That’s what friends do.”
“Auggie—”
“You let Cart basically rebuild your entire house.”
“That was—”
“And don’t you dare say it was different.”
Theo sighed. “I’ll get you some clothes.”
He limped upstairs, found a clean pair of mesh shorts and a Nirvana tee with Kurt Cobain on the front. He found socks and an extra pair of sneakers. Then he carried it all downstairs.
Auggie was already in his boxers.
Theo groaned. “We’ve been over this.”
“What?” Auggie said.
“You know what. We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Did you know your floor is sticky?” He lifted one bare foot to demonstrate.
“Since you apparently need a reminder,” Theo said, “please keep your clothes on at all times.”
“You’re so weird.”
“House rule: at all times,” Theo repeated, dumping the clothes he’d collected in Auggie’s arms.
Auggie just grinned a huge, goofy grin as he wiggled into the t-shirt. Looking down, he plucked at the fabric and said, “He’s kind of cute. Who’s he?”
“Kurt Cobain.”
“Who?”
“Nirvana?”
Auggie shrugged.
“Never mind,” Theo said with a sigh.
They worked in the garage for a while. Although Theo hated to admit it, Auggie had been right: he wasn’t up to all the lifting and carrying, so after a couple of trips of hauling junk down to the road, he settled into a lawn chair and directed Auggie. Auggie, for his part, trotted back and forth, sweating and wiping his face with the tee, exposing those faintly defined abs, grinning like this was the most fun he’d ever had in his entire life. Theo went inside and made Country Time lemonade, shook a few ice cubes loose from the tray, and brought out two big glasses.
“Thanks,” Auggie said, wiping his face again with the shirt. He took a long drink. Then he said, “In a porno, this is where I’d say something about all the hard, sweaty work I’m doing for you.”
Theo coughed lemonade.
Auggie grinned.
“New house rule,” Theo said. “No talking about porn. Ever.”
“So many rules,” Auggie murmured and took another drink. “You’re so strict.”
“Auggie.”
“Well, you are. Last year you got so mad just because I borrowed—”
“Stole.”
“—your blender. And I brought it back.”
“Two months later.”
“But I brought it back.”
“Broken.”
“But I still brought it back.”
Then he grinned, and in spite of his best efforts, Theo burst out laughing.
When he’d calmed down, Auggie said, “Hey Theo?”
“Uh oh.”
“I know it’s not my business.”
“Oh no.”
“But just, you know, for the sake of argument, what if Cart really did have a good reason for not texting you?”
Theo blinked a few times. “Are you defending him?”
“No.” A faint flush worked its way into Auggie’s cheeks. “But I’m saying I think you should hear him out. Give him a chance to explain. And maybe tell him why it upset you that he didn’t respond.”
“He knows why it upsets me.”
“But did you tell him?”
Theo tried to think of a good answer to that. He settled on, “Who are you?”
Auggie smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
They finished cleaning out the garage. Theo tried to pay Auggie with his last twenty, and Auggie laughed so hard that he had to sit down on the driveway. The swampy Midwestern heat blanketed them, but the sun had started to slide behind the horizon. The air smelled like honeysuckle, and every once in a while Theo got a whiff of Auggie’s deodorant. Fireflies had started to bloom in the dusk.
“I made some phone calls,” Theo said.
Auggie cocked his head.
“I think I know a few places where Cal might have been scoring. If you wanted any more help looking for him, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Auggie said, smiling huge and then biting his lip. “Yes. I’d really like that. Thank you.”
“It just makes sense,” Theo said. “We’re a good team.”
Auggie nodded. He was still smiling. “Yeah. We are.”