3
The next morning, Theo managed—against impossible odds—not to be murdered by his boyfriend. His soon-to-be, if he wasn’t missing his guess, ex-boyfriend. Auggie had alternated between snapping at him—”Move” was the most frequent command, which made sense, considering how tiny the bedroom was—and ignoring him. They’d had the apartment to themselves (Orlando had either still been asleep or had left earlier than usual), and while Theo had stayed over enough times that he could have gotten himself breakfast, there was something grotesquely satisfying about refusing to eat unless Auggie offered him something. Which, of course, Auggie didn’t. There was also one particularly passive-aggressive moment (which, to be fair, bordered on downright aggressive) when they’d been leaving the apartment and Theo was fairly sure Auggie had hit him with his backpack on purpose.
It had been a bad night. Not just the fight with Auggie, although sometime around dawn, the anger had finally cooked itself out of Theo, and he’d been left with nothing but the fear. That had made it easier to see how much of the argument had been his fault. At night, with sleep always just out of reach, the old fears had come crawling back, the old doubts, the old recriminations. If I’d taken a different highway. If I’d been in a different lane. If I’d been smarter or faster or better. After enough of that, he couldn’t breathe right, and so he’d sat against the wall, arms looped around his knees, and he’d watched Auggie, who, of course, was blissfully zonked—the way people forget how to do when they become adults. He thought about Auggie murdering bag after bag of Doritos on his couch. He thought about Auggie sticking his feet in Theo’s lap, never mind the laptop or the stack of papers or the book or the beer. He thought about when they’d gone hiking, and the look on Auggie’s face when Theo had shown him the overgrown apple orchard, everything in bloom. If something happens to him, Theo thought. And then he made himself man up and say it: If he dies. And the rest of it was a black hole to fall into, and he fell. He kept falling for hours.
But the silent hours he’d spent on Auggie’s floor, watching the occasional passing headlights catch the bedsheet Auggie had hung instead of a curtain, listening to the distant sound of engines and tires and then, again, silence, had given him time to think. The reality was that Theo had two choices, and he didn’t like either of them. Auggie had been right the night before about at least one thing—Theo did believe that whoever had attacked Ethan was the same person who had killed Suemarie Gilmore. On the one hand, the best way to keep Auggie safe was to find that person and to neutralize the threat. On the other hand, maybe the killer wouldn’t be brave enough to try again, or maybe the police would track him down eventually. If that were the case, Theo investigating would only make things worse—he might actually accomplish the opposite of what he wanted and draw the killer down on Auggie again.
Against Auggie’s frigid objections, Theo walked him to class—Web Page Design, which sounded like as much fun as sleeping on Auggie’s floor—and he left Auggie at the door. Auggie went into the classroom without a word, and he didn’t look back. A couple of the students watched, picking up on the strained dynamic. Theo moved to the other side of the hall. He took out his phone and pretended to pay attention to it, and he watched the clock until a harried-looking woman with at least four Bic pens in her hair scurried past him and into the classroom. After she shut the door, Theo waited another two minutes. Then he left.
It was a fantasy; he knew that. He couldn’t keep Auggie safe like this, not unless he was willing to give up his life. And, in a real sense, he was. But he also knew that even if he dropped out of school, even if he gave up visits to Lana, even if he shadowed Auggie to every class, to every group project, to every hangout and meal and bathroom break, that at some point, Theo would have to sleep, and then there would be time unaccounted for. Time—this brought a sleep-gritty smile—when Auggie would undoubtedly find a way to get neck-deep in trouble.
Theo crossed campus toward Liversedge, and before he’d gotten halfway there, he’d made his decision. Investigating might provoke the killer into acting again, but it was better than sitting around and waiting for someone to try again to kill Auggie.
He changed course, heading off campus now. When he emerged from between the campus post office and one of the maintenance buildings, Auggie was standing on the sidewalk, huddled in his sweatshirt. He raised his eyebrows, and the expression was one of defiance more than a question, and then he thumbed the button for the crosswalk.
Theo walked up to him. Then he shrugged out of his coat and held it out. Auggie looked like he wanted to make this into a fight too, but California blood and Missouri cold won out, and he grabbed the coat and practically disappeared inside it. Then he frowned.
“I’m fine,” Theo said. He thumbed the placket of his shirt. “Flannel, and it’s nice and heavy. Plus an undershirt. Plus I’m wearing socks, which, as a reminder, you should wear socks in winter, Auggie.”
A wary smile appeared on Auggie’s face before vanishing. He was beautiful: jawline, cheekbones, crew cut, eyes. But if you knew him, if you knew what to look for, if you were—as Theo had become, despite his best efforts, over the last couple years—a connoisseur of August Paul Lopez, then you knew it was his mouth you should be paying attention to. Then Theo thought of that first blow job, the raw spots on his dick the next day, and grinned. Maybe in more ways than one.
Auggie scowled. “What?”
“Just remembering something. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Yes, I should be. Only I suspected my boyfriend might do something really stupid, something that might piss me off, and I figured I’d better check on him.”
Theo nodded at the WALK light, and they crossed. Kids streamed past them in the other direction, and one girl waved at Auggie. He smiled and waved back, his hand lost in the sleeve of Theo’s coat. If it bothered him, he gave no sign of it, but as soon as the girl was past, his smile dropped away again.
“You’re going to investigate without me,” Auggie said.
“That’s the plan.”
They continued up the street. Their breath steamed in twin plumes. When they passed another of the ubiquitous strip malls that developers had thrown up thirty years ago around campus, Theo smelled coffee and something delicious—definitely with cinnamon and sugar—and his stomach rumbled.
“You can’t,” Auggie said.
Theo kept walking.
“Theo, did you hear me?”
“Yes. Auggie, I’m sorry about last night.” Theo stopped and turned and met Auggie’s eyes. “I was scared. Terrified. If something happened to you—I honestly don’t know what I’d do. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing it, and I know I need to do some work to manage it better, but it’s the truth. Being angry was easier than being scared, but that didn’t mean I should have taken it out on you.”
Auggie bit his lip. For a moment, he blinked furiously, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “I, um, am sorry too. For last night. And this morning when I hit you with my backpack and pretended it was on accident.”
With a grin, Theo said, “That was pretty spectacular, to be honest.”
Auggie groaned.
“You realize you did a wind-up, right? Like you actually swung it back and then swung it forward.”
Crossing his arms in the too-large coat, Auggie glared at him. “Well, I was mad at you! And I love you, so I can’t actually, you know, break your nose, and hitting you with my backpack was super satisfying.”
“I hope you can hear yourself, because this is very revealing.”
“Theo, I’m really sorry about the videos. I know I fucked up.”
Nodding, Theo said, “It’s done, Auggie. It happened. You don’t need to apologize to me, and you shouldn’t keep beating yourself up over it.”
“Ethan got stabbed because of me. You’re right: I’m so fucking selfish. I could have gotten him killed!”
Down the street, a bell jingled, and two girls emerged from a coffee shop. They were talking in high, animated voices, and they were wearing matching knit caps with matching pompoms. Green and silver. Wroxall colors. They were excited for the first day of school, Theo thought. They were excited—maybe about their classes, maybe about internships, maybe about boys, maybe about the petty drama that was so important at that age. At any age, really. And that’s what Auggie should have had, Theo thought. Not this.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Theo said. “You’re one of the least selfish people I know. What you said last night, you were right; we both thought this was over. I know you wouldn’t have done it if you thought it would put anyone in danger.”
Auggie frowned and gave a tiny shake of his head.
“Oh yeah?” Theo asked. “You would have posted that if you’d known there was even the tiniest possibility someone could have gotten hurt?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No buts.”
The scowl came back. Then, a reluctant smile emerged. “God, I forgot how fucking annoying that was in class. Remember when you kept stopping that girl when she was scanning that line and asking, ‘Stressed or unstressed’? She about had a nervous breakdown. We all did.”
Theo shrugged.
“It’s brutal,” Auggie told him.
“It works, though, doesn’t it? Answer the question, please.”
“No. I wouldn’t have done it.”
Theo shrugged.
“It’s not that simple,” Auggie said.
“Please go back to class. It’s your first day, and I don’t want you making a bad impression on the instructor.”
Auggie shook his head. “You need me.”
“All right, if we want to go that direction, yes, in a very real sense, I need you, Auggie. I love you. But I don’t need you for this. I’m going to find out who was behind the attack on Ethan. Your job—your only job—is to stay safe. What?”
Auggie was lit up from inside, grappling with a huge smile that kept trying to overwhelm him.
“What?” Theo asked again. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Then Auggie mimicked his “Oh.” In a normal voice, he said, “I didn’t mean you need me in, like, a relationship sense, although it’s good to know—”
“Sweet Jesus,” Theo said in an underbreath.
“—that you couldn’t live without me.”
“Not what I said.”
“I’m talking about the investigation, Theo. You need me.” When Theo’s eyebrows went up, Auggie said, “I mean, we work well together. We complement each other.”
“If I need help, I’ll ask. Now go back to class.”
Theo turned, and he made it a dozen paces before Auggie called after him, “You’re only looking at half of it.”
For another few paces, Theo kept going. Then, grinding his teeth, he turned around. He put his fists on his hips and waited.
“Someone killed Suemarie, sure. But that was after they killed Harley. The deaths have to be related, right? Someone killed Harley and then planted all that weird incest stuff so it would look like Sue had a motive. Then everybody starts looking for Sue—I mean, people saw her car around New Harbor, so that gives her opportunity, plus motive. She’s the perfect suspect. Then we found her dead in the Varsity Club, and it’s supposed to look like a suicide, but it all felt…wrong.”
The street had emptied, which meant the next class must be about to start. Theo’s voice sounded louder in the stillness. “What was wrong about it?”
“I don’t know. It feels wrong, that’s all. That’s what my gut tells me. And you think so too. And so does Detective Somerset. But if you focus on who killed Sue, in terms of a motive, that kind of thing, then you’re overlooking the other half of this. Maybe Harley was the real target. Or maybe they both were. But you have to look at the whole picture.”
Theo worked his jaw. The wind felt like it was skinning the tip of his nose, and the flannel shirt wasn’t as thick as he remembered. He gave up, wrapped his arms around himself, and shivered. “Ok. That’s a good point.”
Auggie was glowing again.
“But,” Theo said, “that doesn’t mean—”
“Theo, please? I’ll be with you the whole time. That’s safer, in a way. The killer is already targeting me. It can’t get any worse.”
The wind picked up. It keened in Theo’s ears, and he couldn’t hear anything else. How old do you have to be, he wondered, before you learned that it can always get worse, that life was a bottomless series of trap doors the universe yanked open under you?
Auggie was biting his lip, head cocked, eyes steady on Theo.
And because Theo was the selfish one, he nodded.
“I’m going to buy you breakfast,” Auggie said. “Back at the coffee shop. To make up for, uh, the lack of breakfast this morning.”
“And the backpack,” Theo added drily.
Grinning, Auggie turned. “I’ll catch up.”
“You don’t know where—”
“The Varsity Club house.”
And then he ran, the too-long sleeves flapping as he swung his arms. Hell, he was practically bouncing.
Why, Theo wanted to know. Why can’t I stop making the same fucking mistake?
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