Theoretically Perfect (Theoretically Straight #2)

5. Caleb

Saturday, January 6

“Caleb! Over here!”

Freddy sails across the ice with ease, skidding to a stop before he collides with the wall surrounding the makeshift rink. Andrew follows close behind but isn’t nearly as graceful as his boyfriend and sort of crashes into the wall to stop himself.

“Sorry,” Andrew mutters, gripping the wall with one hand while fixing his glasses with the other.

“No one watching would know it’s your first time,” Freddy assures him, wrapping an arm around Andrew’s waist and pulling himself closer. “You’re doing great!”

Andrew gives a sheepish grin. “And you’re a terrible liar.”

The Specter fairground still has remnants of the Christmas town they build every year leading up to the holidays. Half-dead trees that didn’t get taken home wait in rows to be piled up and burned. Booths made to look like gingerbread houses sit abandoned with hand-painted signs still advertising holiday treats that are long gone. At the center of the makeshift town is a huge ice skating rink, which stays open through the winter season.

A bitter breeze blows, and I shiver in place, pulling my hat down over my ears.

“Where’s Theo?” Freddy asks, tearing himself away from his shameless flirting.

“He’s getting our skates,” I say, pointing back towards the makeshift shed where they store the rentals.

“Such a gentleman,” Freddy coos, scooting over to the gap in the wall and stepping out onto the faux grass that surrounds the rink.

“I’m going to take another lap,” Andrew tells us, gingerly releasing his death grip on the wall. “If you see me fall, no, you didn’t.”

“Just don’t take out a kid on your way down!” Freddy calls after him before returning his attention to me. “Ugh, I think I’m falling for that clumsy idiot.”

“Seriously?” I balk, shoving my hands deeper into my jacket pockets. “I never thought I’d live to see the day Freddy Desoto actually admits he’s falling in love.”

“Rude!” Freddy knocks his shoulder into mine. “But accurate. I can’t help myself, Caleb. He makes me feel things. Stupid things.”

“Like emotions?”

Freddy’s face crumples. “Yeah, those. Yuck, I can’t believe I’m admitting this.”

“Oh my god, you are a human being. I just lost a bet with Wren.”

“Shut up,” Freddy says with a chuckle. “I’m being serious. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

He says it with a smile, but there’s something underneath that–an anxiety in his eyes that makes my stomach clench. Freddy has been my best friend for long enough that I know when something is amiss.

“Then what’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says, quickly averting his eyes.

“Andrew’s right, you’re a terrible liar.”

“That’s not fair,” Freddy scoffs. “You two can’t gang up on me like that.”

“Seriously, though. Is everything okay?”

Freddy watches Andrew out on the ice, the edges of his mouth curling into a smile. “Yes. And that’s the problem, I think. It’s all too good. It can’t last–”

“Sorry that took so long,” Theo announces himself, holding out a pair of scuffed skates. It takes a second for him to register the look on my face, and he quickly adds, “My bad, is something up?”

Freddy shakes his head, gingerly moving to the opening again and stepping out on the ice. “Hurry up and get out here. I want to see how many times Caleb falls on his ass.”

I take the skates from Theo, backstepping to a wooden bench where I untie my shoes. Theo settles in beside me. “Is everything okay with Freddy?”

I don’t really know how to answer that or if I should even be talking about this with Theo. Freddy wouldn’t want anyone to worry over him. He keeps things close to his chest. At least things that matter to him. To most, Freddy appears to be an open book. He’s quick to give you his opinion, even if you didn’t ask, and doesn’t shy away from many topics. But when it comes to personal matters, he’s got things locked down tighter than security at a Taylor Swift concert.

“I think so,” I answer, convincing myself it’s not quite a lie. I try not to lie to Theo. But it’s not always possible. “Thanks for getting these,” I say, wanting to change the subject. “I’m not as terrible a skater as Freddy makes me out to be.”

“I might be,” Theo says with a grimace. “I should have brought Nate’s skateboard pads. I have a feeling I’ll go home covered in bruises.”

“Just hold on tight to me,” I tell him, lacing up my skates. “I won’t let you fall.”

Theo gives me a crooked smile. “What happens if I pull you down with me?”

I ponder that for a moment, then slide closer and lower my voice. “If you want me on top of you, Theo Briggs, you don’t have to fake clumsiness. You could just ask.”

Theo’s cheeks–already pink from the frigid air–flush scarlet as he directs his attention to the laces of his skates, clearing his throat.

My own face burns as I nudge him with my shoulder. “All joking aside, I’m glad we’re doing this. We haven’t been able to have a proper date in forever. How did you manage to convince your parents to let you out unchaperoned?”

He pulls the strings on his skates tight, taking time to chew on his words before he says, “I may not have been a hundred percent honest with my mom about who is in attendance tonight. But don’t worry, I’ve got Harry covering for us if she decides to check in, so we’ve got all the time in the world. I just–I wanted us to have a night to ourselves.”

“Oh,” I say, my pulse suddenly thrumming in my ears.

Did he mean…? No, that can’t be it. We haven’t talked about taking things to the next level physically, so I shouldn’t think that’s what he meant. But maybe that’s why he seems so distracted. Is he worried about bringing it up with me? Sure, he’s confessed his feelings for me on a multi-million subscriber YouTube channel, but this is sex we’re talking about. He’s bound to have hang-ups from all of the religious mumbo-jumbo he’s got bouncing around in his head.

Maybe I should bring it up first. Just to break the tension.

“Got it,” he announces as he finishes lacing. Kicking his feet out, he stands, wobbling like an unsteady toddler on the blades of his skates. I grab him by the elbow to keep him upright. “Thanks. I think I’ll be okay once I’m on the ice.”

“You have done this before, right?” I ask as he braces himself against me.

“Um, yeah, once. Oliver invited me along with his stepmom a few years back, but I don’t remember much about how it went. Hopefully, that wasn’t due to head trauma.”

We reach the wall surrounding the rink, and I help him up onto the ice. His foot slides out from under him, and he spins to grip the railing. “Piece of cake,” he huffs, holding himself up.

I follow him onto the ice, slowly circling around to his other side. I offer my hand. “Here, just hold onto me.”

Theo looks at my hand, and I pretend not to notice the hesitation or the way he looks over his shoulder to see if anyone is watching.

That has nothing to do with me, I remind myself.

He takes my hand, gingerly letting go of the railing, and I pull him toward me, catching him at the waist with my other hand and turning him in the right direction. Other skaters circle the rink at staggered paces, the faster towards the center of the circle, while those less sure on their feet stay to the outer edges. Freddy races by with a holler, quickly followed by Andrew, who weaves around a family with a newfound grace.

Guess he’s a fast learner. Next to me and Theo, the two of them look like an Olympic figure skating team. All they’re missing are the sequined leotards.

“I’m going to get us both killed,” Theo says, his face twisted with concentration as he stares down at his feet.

“Relax,” I coach him, pushing off the tip of my skate and propelling us forward. “No one is watching you. No one will care if you fall.”

The tension in his muscles seems to slack, at least a little, and he eases into our first turn, rounding the end of the oval rink and starting back in the opposite direction. Another couple passes us on the left, the man and woman holding hands as they sail along the ice. I can’t help but grin because even though I’m practically holding him upright at the moment, I know that one day, that will be me and Theo. Just the two of us, skimming along, reminiscing about the day spent picking each other off the ice and laughing, and not remembering the stares from nosy strangers or the anxiety of someone else finding out something that Theo still wants to keep hidden–

I stop myself before the train of thought takes a dark turn. I know it’s not fair of me to dwell on the fact that Theo is still uncomfortable with us being open about our relationship. I know it’s not his fault, but it’s still something that he has to come to terms with. He tells me that he’s working on it and that he knows there’s a happy medium between his feelings for me and his faith, but what happens if he never gets to that place?

And how long do I wait for him?

The question makes me recoil, like I’ve bit into a sour apple.

“I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” Theo says, tearing his eyes away from his feet long enough to glance over at me. But then his foot slips out from under him, and before I can get a better grip on him, he’s on his butt, wincing.

I skid to stop, quickly circling behind him to make sure he doesn’t get run over. “Upsie daisy,” I say, grabbing him under the arms and helping him up. Ice shavings stick to the back of his gray peacoat, and I brush them off, then hesitate, realizing I’m practically slapping his rear end.

“I jinxed myself, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” I tease, taking his hand in mine and pulling him into motion once more. “How’s your butt?”

Theo’s cheeks are inflamed with embarrassment, but he manages to clap back, “You tell me. You were the one getting acquainted with it.”

We both laugh as Freddy appears at our side, slowing his pace to match our snail speed. “Nice wipeout,” he says, turning around to face us while still skating backward. “Did you hurt anything?”

“Just my self-respect,” Theo mutters, his grip tightening on my hand.

Andrew joins our group as well, skirting beside Freddy and placing a hand across his stomach to steer him away from any collision courses as he shows off. “Freddy makes all of us look like amateurs.”

“How did you get so good at this?” Theo asks.

“My abuela would bring me and my brother here every weekend during the winter when Mom was in flight school. It was a nice way to get out of the house, and she had a crush on the old man that ran the hot chocolate stand, so it was a win-win.”

I wince at the mention of Gabriel–Freddy’s brother–even though he doesn’t seem fazed. Gabriel passed away when Freddy was eleven, and it’s not something we usually bring up in conversation.

“Pretty soon, I was living my Adam Rippon fantasy and trying to convince my abuela to sew sparkles onto my winter coat.” He laughs, lost in the memory for a moment, before addressing Theo, “I’m guessing your family didn’t come here often?”

Theo shakes his head. “There’s always so much going on around the holidays at church, and we never had a free weekend.”

“Tell me about it,” Andrew commiserates. “There’s the children’s programs, and the cantatas, and the Angel Tree toy drives, not to mention the week leading up to Christmas, where I practically live in a choir robe. I’m surprised I had time to wrap anything!”

“What church do you go to again, Andrew?” Theo asks.

“Specter First Methodist,” he answers, brushing a sandy bang from his eyes. “My mom is one of the Elders of the church, so I get roped into pretty much everything around there.”

Theo nods, and he looks like he wants to ask another question, but he never does.

“Not to change topics,” Freddy says, spinning back the right way and addressing us over his shoulder, “but all of this amazing grace and poise makes a boy hungry. We’re thinking Pizzapalooza after this. Are y’all in?”

“That sounds dope,” Theo answers, then turns to check with me. “Is that okay?”

“Sounds heavenly,” I answer, snorting at my own joke.

“Awesome,” answers Freddy. “Now, no offense, but I’m about to leave you all in the dust. Catch me if you can!”

He breaks away from Andrew, digging his skates in and rocketing around an older couple as we come around the turn. Andrew takes off after him, and Theo and I decide it's best to keep to our snail’s pace.

But Theo doesn’t let go of my hand–except the times he falls down–so I celebrate the small victories.

“I don’t want to head home yet.”

Theo and I are sitting in Eileen outside of Pizzapalooza. A cardboard box of our leftovers sits in my lap, and Freddy and Andrew already hugged us goodbye before they pulled off in Andrew’s car.

I check the clock. It’s only eight fifteen.

“Okay, then we won’t.”

He’s been quiet today. Quieter than usual, I should say. Let’s be honest, it’s hard to get a word in between Freddy and Andrew, but even in the moments it’s been the two of us, there’s a delay in his response, like his thoughts are buffering.

I reach over the armrest, taking his hand in mine. “Did something happen at home? With your parents?”

Theo shakes his head, his gaze fixed out the windshield. “It’s a church thing. I’m not going to bother you with it.”

Oh. That’s not what I was expecting at all.

“You could if you wanted to. If you need someone to listen, I mean. Not sure I’d be much help beyond that.”

He looks at me now, dark eyes nearly black in the dimness of the street lamps. Then he’s smiling, an exhale escaping his lips. “Thank you, but it’s just something I have to work through on my own.” He squeezes my hand, then pulls away to start the car. “Now then, where to?”

“Did you want to catch a late movie?” I suggest, pulling my phone out to search for times. “Shit, the last one started at eight. Um… we could always go back to my place and hang out?”

“Sold,” Theo announces, pulling his seatbelt on. “I owe you a walloping in Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, right,” I snort. “If I remember correctly, you fell off Rainbow Road so many times I lapped you.”

“Well, I’ve been practicing,” Theo argues, flashing a grin. “And I think that the turtle shells are going to turn in my favor.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The drive back home isn’t as eventful as a lap around the Mario Kart track, but we make it one piece. Lola’s car is in the driveway, but Mom’s is missing, which isn’t that odd for a Friday night.

“I’m home,” I call from the front door, kicking off my sneakers and hanging my coat. The sounds of the television and a grunt from the living room draw me close enough to find Lola sprawled out on the couch in her usual spot, files stacked in neat rows along the coffee table.

She looks up from her work long enough to give a half-nod. “Can’t talk,” she says, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I have to finish this deposition report in the next hour so I can catch up with some friends at Patty’s.”

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, ignoring her request not to talk.

“With Dad on a date night,” she answers, not skipping a beat in her typing. “They left about half an hour ago.”

“Ew.”

Lola snorts a laugh. “And once again, I’m the only one in this house who doesn’t have a date. It’s fine, everything is fine…” she trails off, getting absorbed back into her work.

“We’ll be upstairs,” I say, not waiting for her response as I return to Theo, waiting at the base of the stairs. He’s shed his jacket as well, showing off a long-sleeved t-shirt with a band name I don’t recognize. There’s a constant rotation of those in his wardrobe.

“Ready to lose?” he asks.

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll come true.”

Upstairs in my room, the Mario Kart-nage rages on for about an hour before I hear Lola call up the stairs, “I’m heading out!”

Theo frowns, setting down his controller. “I should probably get going.”

“You don’t have to rush off.”

He’s sitting on the floor, leaning back against my bed, while I’ve made a nest for myself of pillows and blankets on top.

“You’ve already proved your kart-driving superiority,” Theo says, wincing as he pushes himself off the floor. He rolls his shoulder, grimacing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think my falls on the ice are starting to catch up with me,” he explains. “Something tells me I’m going to have some serious bruises tomorrow.”

I scoot to the edge of the bed. “Come here, let me see.”

Theo hesitates. “It’s fine, really.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent years patching up Freddy’s various sports injuries. I’m practically a doctor.” I pat the space beside me on the bed expectantly.

He sighs but gives me a smile as he flops down beside me, then hisses through his teeth. “I should have worn thicker pants. Jeez.”

“Okay, let’s see the damage.” Theo’s leg presses against mine as I turn to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and applying pressure. “Does that hurt?”

“A little,” he says, looking down at the floor.

I move my hand, fingers trailing to the collar of his shirt. I pull the fabric away from his skin, trying to get a better look. “Take your shirt off.”

“W-What?” stammers Theo.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, fighting a grin. “I’ve seen you shirtless.”

“Well, yeah, but not in your bed.”

True. And we’re home alone, I realize. This wasn’t exactly planned out, but if there were any intentions from either party for something to happen tonight, I have to say the pieces are falling into place nicely. I can see why he’s so nervous.

I hold up a hand in front of him. “I swear, my intentions are pure. I just want to make sure I’m not sending you home looking like you’ve been attending fight club. I’m already in deep enough shit with your parents for turning you bi.”

Theo grimaces again, but it’s not from his injuries.

“Sorry,” I add softly. “That was a bad joke. You know that’s not how this works.”

“I know.” He stands up suddenly, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off in one swift motion. “There, at least I’m not in your bed anymore.”

In the light from my bedside lamp, Theo’s skin is warm honey. The tan from long summer days by the pool hasn’t faded much in the winter months, and the trail of freckles that line his collarbone is particularly distracting as I join him in standing, inspecting the shoulder in question. Sure enough, on the outer part of his left shoulder blade, a dark, discolored patch looms under the skin. I trail a finger over the smooth surface, and Theo shivers at the touch, his eyes closed.

“That’s going to look worse tomorrow,” I say, suddenly feeling the slightest bit of guilt for dragging him onto the ice this afternoon. “But I think you’ll live.”

“Is that your professional medical opinion, doctor?”

There’s a playfulness in his voice that spurs me on.

“I’d like to try a quick treatment if you’d be willing?”

Theo throws me a questioning look, then nods slowly.

My pulse hammers in my ears as I step closer to him, my hands grabbing him gently at the waist as I lower my lips to his shoulder and plant a soft kiss along the bruised skin.

Theo sucks in a breath.

And now that I’m here, with the taste of Theo’s skin on my lips, I can’t help but push a little further. I kiss farther up his shoulder, my hands pulling him closer to me. He exhales at that, his eyes still closed. Then I’m moving again, leaving a trail of kisses along the curve leading up to the crook of his neck, where I pause.

“Is this okay?” I whisper.

He nods, his breath coming in short gasps.

I return to my work, kissing him just below the ear, and Theo’s body goes rigid. He steps out of my hold, his back to me for a split second before he turns around and practically tackles me with a kiss, both of us stumbling back and landing on the edge of the bed once more.

Theo’s hands grasp at my shirt, unfastening the buttons till his warm fingers trail down my chest, and it’s my turn to let out a gasp as his lips trail down my neck, and I feel teeth scraping against my skin.

My brain is on fire, and I can’t think as Theo pushes me gently backward. My back hits the bed as he crawls on top of me, both of us panting. But just as he leans down for another kiss, he stops, a moment of clarity flashing in his dark eyes.

Vibration. His hand reaches for his pocket, and the screen of his phone illuminates the sharp angles of his face. He straightens, quickly untangling himself from me and standing.

“Theo? What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, scooping his shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head. “I have to go,” he says as if it’s an answer to my question.

“Are you okay? Did I do something–”

“No.” He turns back to me, eyes locking with mine. His features twist like he’s in pain. “I just have to go. Sorry.”

Without another word, he storms out of my room, leaving me half-dressed and wholly confused.