Auggie woke to his phone buzzing and a raging hangover. The night before, he’d made the mistake of accepting Dylan’s invitation to a party. He’d driven the Civic over to Dylan’s apartment, where forty people were crammed into the two-bedroom unit. He’d stuck to beer, and although a couple of guys had cornered Auggie, and one boy had tried to give him a hand job on the fire escape, Auggie had spent most of his time circling Dylan, checking out his bedroom—incense, a macrame mandala, dirty clothes everywhere—and watching the upperclassman, seeing if Dylan would make the first move to take their relationship from friends to something else. Dylan had hardly looked at Auggie, though, and Auggie had felt frustrated but also surprisingly intrigued by Dylan’s indifference. Now, he was paying for the beer and the late night. He pulled the pillow over his face while consciousness reassembled, and then he lifted it long enough to peek at the message.
Theo: Are you awake?
Auggie let the pillow fall. He was halfway back to a doze when the phone buzzed again.
Theo: I want to talk to Wayne today.
After a moment, Auggie managed to unlock the screen and tap out a reply. Can’t.
And then, because it was Theo, everything got out of sync.
Theo: Don’t tell Orlando.
And then, almost immediately, another text: Why?
Ok, Auggie sent back.
What’s ok?
Auggie was still trying to type a reply when another message came through: Why can’t you come? Why did you say ok to that?
It was too early for this. Auggie abandoned his phone and burrowed under the pillow again. The phone buzzed a few more times, but Auggie ignored it, drifting deeper into sleep. When he woke again, he felt better. Not great. But better. And he figured it was time to keep developing the new Auggie. He set up his lights, got back under the covers, and sent a snap of himself in bed, crazy bedhead, the words just kill me at the bottom. A little bit of nipple showing. Then, almost immediately, another snap with the pillow over his head and the words this is ur fault dylan_j199.
He got a snap back almost immediately. Dylan had copied his pose, the pillow over his face, although Dylan had massive biceps and the pose showed them off to good advantage. come over and ill make it better.
Auggie grinned and headed into the bathroom. He snapped his way through a post-hangover routine, and judging by the snaps back, it was good material. He was thinking maybe this could be a thing, his morning routine snapped out. The same, but different. That’s what people wanted—he’d figured that out pretty early.
He was in his room, trying to pick out which tank to wear over to Dylan’s—he wasn’t going to pass up the invitation—when a knock came at his door.
“Come in,” Auggie called.
Theo opened the door and then pulled it almost shut again. “Put on a shirt.”
“Grow up, Theo.”
“And pants. Put on pants.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“If you put on clothes, I’ll give you breakfast from Big Biscuit.”
Auggie could smell it now: bacon and egg and cheese, and definitely some delicious form of carbs. He pulled on his I Do It Online for Money tank, which featured a television tuned to a rainbow channel, and hopped into a pair of jersey shorts. When he opened the door, he held out his hand.
Theo smiled when he saw the tank, and he placed a paper bag in Auggie’s hand.
“I can’t go,” Auggie said. “And I’m not giving you back this—what is it?”
“A breakfast croissant.”
“I’m sorry, Theo. Can we talk to him later?”
Theo shook his head. “I just wanted to drop that off because I figured, first weekend, frat house, you probably needed some food in your stomach. Did you take something for your head?”
“I’m all right.”
“Did you drink water?”
“I’m totally fine.”
“You really need to drink water. When you’re drinking, and when you’re hungover.”
“I’m not hungover,” Auggie said around a mouthful of bacon, egg, and cheese goodness.
“Right,” Theo said. “Ok, I’ve got to get over to Wayne’s. Hope you feel better.”
“Wait.”
Theo stopped in the doorway.
“I mean, shouldn’t I talk to him too?”
“You can’t go.”
“We could go later. Maybe tomorrow.”
“It’s a murder, Auggie. Every day, it’s going to get harder to solve. Anyway, I was thinking about it on the way over, and I actually think it’s better this way.”
Auggie swallowed another huge bite. “Better what way?’
“You do your thing. Stay safe. Take care of yourself. I’ll figure this out.”
“Oh, fuck no.”
“I’m not cutting you out. I’ll still tell you what I learn. We’ll work on it together, but this way, we can do it without putting you in danger.”
Auggie tore off two savage bites and spoke through the mass of half-masticated food. “Oh. Fuck. No. Daniel. Theophilus. Stratford.”
“If it’s about the money, you’ll still get your half. The Reeses never have to know.”
“Get my slides,” Auggie said, pointing at the closet.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“And the magic word is . . .”
“Now, motherfucker.”
It had been a gamble, and Auggie let out a silent breath when a tiny grin crossed Theo’s face. Theo opened the closet, found the Adidas slides, and tossed them onto Auggie’s bed. Auggie polished off the sandwich, snapped an angry face to Dylan, and shoved his feet in the slides. “Let’s go.”
“No, remember? You can’t.”
“God, I hate you sometimes.”
Theo had biked over, so they took the Civic. They were at a stop light when Auggie turned, grabbed Theo’s elbow, and started punching him in the shoulder as fast as he could. Not hard. But over and over again. And not soft either.
“Jesus,” Theo said, laughing and trying to twist free. “What the hell, Auggie?”
“You know what,” Auggie said, releasing Theo’s elbow to point a finger at him.
“Jesus,” Theo said again. He was still laughing.
“Mother. Fucker.” Auggie said, punctuating each word with another punch.
“I’m not going to be able to use this arm tomorrow,” Theo said.
“Good. That’s the least you deserve.”
“What’d I do?”
“Don’t do it again, Theo. Do you hear me? Your ass is toast if you do that again.”
“What the hell happened to your language? You sound like you’ve been hanging out with Cart.”
“The last thing you want to do, trust me, is bring up your boyfriend right now.”
“Touchy,” Theo said, but he was still smiling as he massaged his arm.
Then the light turned green, and a horn blared behind them. Something inside the Civic shrieked as they accelerated.
“And quit looking so goddamn pleased with yourself,” Auggie snapped.
“Part of it’s that it’s just so easy,” Theo said, a smirk growing, “but it wouldn’t be so fun if you weren’t smart enough to figure it out.”
At the next stop light, Auggie punched his arm another twenty or thirty times. Just to make his point. Theo, the son of a bitch, just laughed and tried to fend him off.
When they knocked on Wayne’s door, it opened almost immediately. Wayne was standing there, a sandwich in one hand; behind him, an open bottle of Miller High Life was sweating on the table.
“I guess you can come in,” Wayne said. “I’ve got to leave in a few minutes.”
“You said you didn’t mind talking,” Theo said. “That’s why I called ahead.”
“Yeah, well, you dicked around, and I had a client ask for an extra session. Come in if you’re going to come in.”
They followed him into the apartment. Mark McGwire was staring down at them from his frame. On the TV, a pair of talking heads rehashed a Cardinals game from the night before. Auggie had seen the show, but he couldn’t remember what it was called. He caught a whiff of the beer when Wayne picked up the Miller High Life, and as Theo closed the door, Auggie pretended to stretch so that he could look over his shoulder into the kitchen. The recycling was full of brown glass bottles.
“Ok,” Wayne said. “So how are you going to find this guy?”
“Who’s that?” Theo said.
“The guy who killed my brother.” Wayne waved the sandwich at them. Bologna, Auggie guessed. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Peepee said you guys were smart.”
“Don’t call him that,” Auggie said.
“He’s my brother. I’ll call him whatever the fuck I want. He might have popped your little cherry, but that doesn’t give you the right to get involved in family business.”
“Let it go,” Theo murmured.
Auggie swallowed, but his face was hot.
“You said guy,” Theo said. “Did you use that word for a reason? Do you have an idea of who killed Cal? Or is that just a general term?”
After another moment of silent contemplation, Wayne said, “What the fuck are we paying you for?”
“I guess that means it was general,” Auggie said.
“I guess so,” Theo said. “We were hoping you could tell us a little bit about your business.”
“What?” Wayne said. “Why?”
“Because money can be a powerful motive.”
“Hold up. Are you talking about me? Fuck that. Fuck both of you.”
“We’re talking about anybody who would have a financial reason to want Cal gone.”
“What’s my financial reason? We owned the business fifty-fifty. We’d repaid the original loan. We rent a practice facility, but we were talking to the bank about a bigger loan so we could buy our own place. That’s dead in the water, by the way. They won’t even talk to me now that Cal is out of the picture. We were making good money when Cal was alive. Now I’ve got two options: either I lose half my clients, or I hire somebody who’s going to do a shit job at what Cal did for twice the money. Tell me how I benefit.”
“You’re the sole owner of the business,” Auggie said.
“Dumbshit, use your brain. His half belongs to his estate. It’ll go to Mom and Dad or whoever gets it after probate. Yeah, I know my brother didn’t have a will. That’s just one more reason I wouldn’t want him dead. Probate is going to fuck my business up beyond belief.”
“Ok,” Theo said, squeezing Auggie’s arm when Auggie opened his mouth again. “You won’t mind if we look at your finances, will you? Just to verify.”
“No fucking way.”
“Really?”
“Not a fucking chance.”
“Mind telling us why? It could help us figure out what happened.”
“Sure. Here’s why: mind your own fucking business.” Wayne devoured the last bite of sandwich and chugged the beer. “That all?”
“What about angry clients?”
“We don’t have angry clients.”
“Orlando said Genesis, his ex, had some sort of disagreement with you guys.”
The transformation in Wayne’s face was immediate. “Don’t get me started on that cunt. I’m not even going to talk about that.”
Auggie didn’t cut his eyes to Theo, but he could feel how Theo responded to the words, feel the same shocked curiosity.
“What—”
“I said I’m not going to talk about it. I’ve got to go.”
“Anybody you guys have had money problems with?”
“No. I told you. I feel like I’m just talking to the air here. What’s going on with you two? Don’t you listen?”
“Ok, just one more thing,” Theo said. “Where did you say you were that weekend?”
“Midwest Boys’ Basketball Expo. It’s an off-season expo. They get some recruiters.”
“You deal with recruiters?”
“We train top athletes. You can’t do that without at least one recruiter trying to crawl up your butt.” Wayne stood and shot the Miller High Life at the recycling can. It went in perfectly, with the sound of glass breaking. “That’s time, boys.”
They followed him down to the parking lot, and Auggie guided the Civic out onto the street. He went around the block and parked until they saw Wayne leave in the BMW. Then they pulled back into the lot, went upstairs, and retrieved the spare from under the doormat.
“I should probably go in by myself,” Theo said. “You’d better stay—ow, ow, ow, Auggie, all right, stop.”
The dumb son of a bitch laughed like it had been the funniest joke in the world. And, Auggie had to admit, he smiled a little bit himself once Theo’s back was turned.