Theoretically Perfect (Theoretically Straight #2)

7. Caleb

Friday, January 12

“I can’t believe this actually came together.”

Wren sets their phone down on the armrest of the tattered couch. We’ve just finished watching the Triple H release, and Freddy looks up from his spot on the floor, pulling himself away from whatever ooey, gooey back and forth he and Andrew have been locked into all night. Every time I look over, he’s got the biggest grin on his dumb face. It’s adorable and super annoying.

“Huh?”

“At least pretend you’re paying attention,” I tease Freddy, tossing a popcorn kernel at him. It lands on the cushion of curls atop his head, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “The group text has been blowing up all day.”

Freddy’s nose scrunches. “Ah, I muted that thing ages ago. You guys talk too much.”

“Gee, thanks.” Wren throws a pillow at Freddy, but it goes wide. “Glad to know your friends mean so much to you.”

“I love you both dearly, but if I have to suffer through any more of Oliver’s endless shitposting or another argument between Elise and Harrison in the group thread, I’m going to yeet my phone into the nearest chasm. Why do straight people always have to make everything about them?”

“Brave of you to assume Elise is straight,” I chime in.

“Is she not?”

I shrug. “She hasn’t told me otherwise. You’re making assumptions, Freddy, darling.”

“Whatever, just tell me what you’re talking about.”

“We’re going to the Kendling Hotel next weekend,” I say, resisting the urge to throw another object at him. He’s just being Freddy. I don’t know why it’s getting to me today.

Freddy’s eyes go wide. “Whoa, really? I thought y’all were joking.”

“Apparently not,” says Wren, rising from their seat. They wander over to the makeup station, pulling open a drawer and digging through it. “Oliver’s stepmom must be some kind of logistics savant.”

My phone buzzes, and I open the itinerary that Wren was referring to. “Wow, it’s very detailed.”

Freddy scrambles to his feet, then forces himself into the space next to me in the armchair. “So, you and Theo will be sharing a room, I take it?” He wiggles his eyebrows in this way I can only describe as obscene.

Warmth grips the back of my neck. “Yeah, and Harrison and Oliver will be there too, so it’s not like we’ll be alone or anything.”

“But you’ll be sharing a bed,” Freddy continues. “And we all know what happens under the sheets when the lights go out.” He drags a finger along my leg and I swat it away.

“Is sex all you ever think about?” I ask, the heat spreading to my face.

What I don’t tell him is that I’ve been thinking the exact same thing all week.

Freddy quirks an eyebrow at me. “Pretty much. And you two never want to talk about it, so I’m always forced to be the one to bring it up. How did I become friends with such prudes?”

Wren returns with a basket of nail polish bottles and an exasperated sigh. “Fine, Freddy. What act of depravity are you going to regale us with this evening?”

Freddy folds his arms across his chest. “Now I’m not so sure I want to share.”

“Fine by me,” I say, untangling his legs from mine and joining Wren on the couch. My nails are chipped to hell, and they could use a fresh coat. “I actually like Andrew, and I’m not sure I want to hear about whatever the two of you do behind closed doors. How can I look him in the eye after that?”

Wren snorts a laugh, unscrewing the cap off a bottle of black polish.

“Then give us an update on you and Theo,” Freddy replies, sprawling out in the armchair with a grand flourish. “Have you convinced that sweet angel to do the Devil’s tango yet?”

I purposefully avoid Freddy’s leering stare, absorbed in choosing a new color for my nails. Maybe a green? Yeah, Theo would like that.

“Yeah, I’m curious too.” Wren nudges me with their shoulder. “Not that you have to tell us anything. It’s up to you.”

“We haven’t done anything,” I say, my voice tight. I don’t know why I haven’t told them what happened last week. How the minute my shirt came unbuttoned, Theo freaked out and literally ran away. Maybe they could help me figure out why it happened or why I feel so fucking shitty every time I picture the look on his face before he left.

But I can’t bring myself to tell them. It would make it all too real. In my head, I could at least hold onto the hope that Theo was telling me the truth. Once I say it out loud….

“I mean, we’ve kissed and stuff, but that’s it. We’re taking things slow.”

Wren gives an exaggerated nod while Freddy stares at me with a look of incredulity.

“Well, you’ve got a whole weekend of haunted hotel fun ahead of you,” Freddy says after a moment. “Just be sure to hang a sock on the door if you two decide to do more than ‘kissing and stuff.’ I’d hate for you to scar poor Oliver like that.”

“I think Harrison may take it worse,” Wren suggests. “Or maybe they’d both decide to stay with the ghosts forever and jump out the window.”

Freddy and Wren laugh, and I manage to crack a smile. They never fail to lighten my mood. It’s one of the many reasons I love them both.

“I guess I could stand to hear about you and Andrew,” I say, uncapping the bottle of deep green polish–Theo’s favorite shade. “The two of you have been chatting non-stop anyway. What’s going on?”

“Funny enough, we’re actually planning our date for next weekend. We’d go this weekend, but he’s got some church trip to an apple orchard that sounds very boring. Anyway, he told me last night that he thinks he’s ready to take our physical relationship to the next level, so we’ve been talking all day about what he wants to do and what each other’s boundaries are. Is it weird to say I’m nervous? I’ve never cashed in someone’s V-card before.”

“Virginity is a patriarchal invention,” Wren interjects.

Freddy rolls his eyes. “Even so, I want to make sure that it’s a good experience for him. My first time was sort of terrible. Bad breath is such a mood killer. Andrew’s first time should be perfect. He deserves it.” Freddy pauses, scrunching his nose. “God, when did I become such a sap?”

“I was going to ask the same question.”

Freddy cuts me a look that forces a giggle out of me. “Ugh. I hate this.” He flops back against the cushion, burying his face in his hands. “Where did the badass Freddy who didn’t give a shit about breaking hearts go?”

Wren sets down their polish brush, crossing over to wrap their arms around Freddy’s neck. “He grew a heart, the poor bastard. Caleb, I think our little Freddy is actually in love. ”

“We never thought the day would come,” I join in, careful not to smudge my wet nails as I rustle Freddy’s hair. “I think I might cry.”

Freddy squirms under our love. “Okay, okay, that’s enough of the squishy stuff. You’re starting to freak me out.”

Wren releases their hold on him, squatting down so they’re at eye level. “Hey, Andrew’s first time is going to be great because he’ll be doing it with someone who cares enough about him to actually give a shit.”

Freddy gives a small nod, the corners of his eyes shining with moisture. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Wren. That means a lot. You forgot to mention one little thing, though.”

Wren rests a hand on his arm. “What’s that, honey?”

“That I also give really great head.”

“Get out of my house.”

Freddy cackles as Wren pounces on him, shoving him further into the cushion.

“You. Are. The. Worst.” Wren punctuates each word with a playful smack to Freddy’s backside as he twists underneath them.

I’m laughing hard enough that I’ve got tears in my eyes when Wren finally climbs off him, straightening their band t-shirt and inspecting the ruined paint on their nails.

Freddy peels himself from the armchair, cocking an eyebrow at me. “You didn’t want to get in on the physical violence?”

“Nah, Wren’s got that part covered.”

“Damn right.” Wren pumps a fist in the air.

Freddy rights himself, running a hand through his hair and picking out the piece of popcorn that miraculously stayed in place. “All jokes aside, I guess we’re all in for an eventful time next weekend. You guys will be getting haunted, and I’ll be getting laid. Here’s hoping they both go well!” He grabs one of the cans of Coke from the coffee table, raising it into the air.

“That one’s mine.”

Freddy shrugs, taking a long sip, then belching. “What’s a little backwash between friends.”

“Andrew is so lucky to have you,” Wren mutters, rolling their eyes.

“Caleb, can you come in here for a minute?”

Mom’s voice travels down the hall from the kitchen as I close the front door behind me. The rest of the night at Wren’s devolved into us convincing Freddy to paint his toenails Andrew’s favorite shade of orange and then sharing TikToks till it was already past nine, and Freddy offered to drop me off on his way home.

I set my backpack down by the door, kick off my shoes, then head for the kitchen.

To my surprise, both Mom and Dad are there to greet me, standing at the island counter, a pot of coffee resting between them. Dad looks tired–he just got back in town this morning, and probably hasn’t caught up on his sleep–and Mom is still dressed from the office, so she probably hasn’t been home long.

“What’s up?” I ask, a sense of dread swelling in my stomach, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing for them to hold against me. My last report card? Straight A’s. Curfew? Haven’t missed a single cutoff. Pregnancy scare? Well, they don’t have to worry about that.

“We wanted to talk to you about the trip,” Dad starts, pulling over a stool and settling on top of it.

“Oh. Okay.” My pulse spikes, my feet glued in place by the kitchen table. Are they having second thoughts? Maybe Mom’s phone call with Ashley didn’t go as well as I thought it did. No, that can’t be it. The two of them were laughing over some nineties movie reference that Ashley made, and after she got off the phone, Mom mentioned wanting to go out for drinks with her. Maybe Dad read up on the hotel and got spooked? Nah, that can’t be it. He doesn’t even believe in ghosts, and he loves historical buildings. I’m surprised he’s not tagging along, to be honest.

“This is going to be the first time you and Theo are staying overnight, away from home,” Mom says, gripping her coffee mug and holding it in her hands like a comfort object. “And we wanted to know that we trust you to make good decisions while you’re away.”

“O-kay.” I separate the syllables to show I’m not following.

“You’re both approaching adulthood,” Dad picks up, throwing a glance over to Mom. “And I know that boys of your age are going to… do things that boys of your age want to do.”

Oh god. Please, no. This can’t be happening.

Dad continues, rushing through the words like he’s trying to get them all out in one breath. “Your mother and I want to make sure you know that we trust you to stay safe and that you and Theo won’t rush into anything that you’re not ready for.”

I want to sink into the fucking ground. The earth needs to swallow me up right fucking now. Take me, dirt! I’m all yours!

“But that’s your call to make,” Mom jumps in. “We’re not here to tell you what to do with your body, only that we’re here to help you with any questions you might have. Plus, there’s something we wanted you to have before you started packing. Go ahead, Bert.”

Dad pulls out a small cardboard box from his jacket pocket and sets it on the counter. It takes me less than a second to recognize the logo, and my desire to spontaneously combust has never been greater.

“Oh my god, I don’t need those.”

“Condoms aren’t just for preventing pregnancy,” Mom counters, clutching her mug even tighter. “There’s loads of STIs going around–”

Dad snorts a laugh, and Mom cuts a look at him.

“What? You said loads.”

Mom rolls her eyes, and I see my chance to butt in.

“Okay, look,” I say, steering this dumpster fire of a conversation before it gets any worse. “I appreciate this, really I do. But this is all totally unnecessary.”

My parents share another look between them.

“I know this is uncomfortable, Caleb,” Dad says, taking a serious tone. “But it’s important to your mother and I that we know we’ve done everything to prepare you for the realities of life. This conversation may not be relevant to you right now, but if–and when–the time comes, we want you to be prepared with all the knowledge and tools you need to stay safe.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“We love you, Caleb,” Mom says, setting down her mug. “Trust me, this isn’t our favorite topic either. But we’re all mature enough to have this conversation. At least, you and I are.” She cuts another look at Dad, who just shrugs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll take them, I guess.” I scurry over to the counter, grab the box, and shove it into my pocket as quickly as I can. “Was there anything else?”

“Ah, um, yeah,” Dad fidgets on top of his stool, reaching into the bowl of fruit on the countertop and pulling out a single banana. “Just wanted to make sure you’re clear on how those work.” He reaches into his pocket once again and pulls out a single wrapped condom, setting it next to the phallic fruit.

“I’ve got it,” I say quickly, backing away from the counter. “Thanks again. I love you guys too. I’m going to leave now.”

I bolt out of the kitchen before they can argue, and a shared sigh follows me down the hall. Good to know they’re just as relieved at my departure as I am.

At the base of the stairs, I take a second to let out a breath. Why the fuck is everyone in my life suddenly so caught up with talking about sex? It’s like there’s a huge sign on my forehead that says, “I tried to boink my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t like that, though. I really wasn’t trying to push things with Theo. It just happened. And now I can’t think about him without seeing that look on his face–the pain in his eyes. Was I the cause? What did I do to make him feel that way? It can’t be a coincidence that it happened just as things were getting hot and heavy. But how can I ask him about it if he keeps assuring me everything is fine?

I blot the tears of frustration from my eyes.

This isn’t something parents cover in their sex talks.

Hurrying up the stairs, I make a beeline for my room, wanting to get rid of the contents of my pocket as quickly as possible.

“Caleb?”

I stop outside Lola’s door just as she opens it, leaning against the frame. She’s in her PJ’s even though it’s barely nine-thirty. Her red, curly hair is pulled back off her face, and she’s got her glasses on, which means she’s probably spent her evening wrist-deep in a term paper.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing,” I reply, taking another step toward my room.

Lola catches me at the elbow. “Beep, beep, beep. That’s the bullshit detector going off, bro. I thought you realized you can’t hide stuff from me by now. Come here.” She drags me into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She sits me down on the end of her bed, lifting my chin with a finger. “Honey, you’ve been crying. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” I repeat, shoving my hand in my pocket to try and cover the bulbous shape of the condom box.

Lola isn’t convinced. She pulls over the chair from her desk, sinking into it. “Does this have anything to do with Mom and Dad cornering you in the kitchen?”

“Oh god, you knew about that?”

Lola laughs, nodding her head. “They asked me to clear the room when you sent the ‘on my way home’ message. How bad was it? Did Dad try to put a condom on a banana?”

“He did that to you, too?”

“Oh yeah, but the condoms he got were extra lubed, so it kept slipping out of his hands. Mom had to step it. It was mortifying.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” I pull the box out of my pocket, putting my embarrassment on full display. “They wanted me to have these before I leave on the trip with Theo.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Lola says through her snickering. “I know that sex talks can be traumatizing, but they’re nothing to cry over.”

I toss the box aside, looking down at my hands. “I wasn’t crying about that.”

“You can talk to me, Cal,” Lola says, any laughter dropped from her tone. “If you want.”

Heat builds behind my eyes, and I have to blink a few times before the tears start spilling over.

“Hey.” Lola’s hands are on mine, her voice soft. “You’re okay. Just let it out.”

I take in a shuddered breath, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but it doesn’t go down, and the tears really start flowing, running down my cheeks.

“I think I fucked things up with Theo.” I dab at my face with the end of my sleeve. “And I don’t know what I did, and he keeps telling me everything’s fine, but I know it’s not–I can feel it –and I can’t talk to him about it and–”

My breath hitches with a sob, cutting off my words.

“Take a second,” Lola says, sliding from her chair onto the bed next to me and wrapping a gentle arm around my back.

I fold into her side, wrapping both arms around her as my chest heaves. The crying lasts a lot longer than I want it to, but eventually I’m able to reel myself back in, and only Lola’s tear-stained shoulder is worse for wear.

“Tell me about it,” Lola says after my breathing returns to a normal pace, her arm still holding me in place.

“Last week, when me and Theo came back after our date,” I start, my voice hoarse and barely audible. “We were in my room. And things got… heated between us. I kept checking in with him, making sure he was okay with what we were doing. I didn’t want him to freak because I know he’s still figuring some stuff out. We got to this moment on my bed, and he just stopped, like he was coming out of a trance or something. When I asked if he was okay, he had this expression–” I shudder, the image of Theo popping into my mind. “It was like he was in pain. Like looking at me made him hurt.”

Lola listens quietly, her hand now working small circles on my back.

“He sent me a text later that night apologizing, but he wouldn’t tell me what happened. I tried to ask, but every time, he shut me down, saying that I didn’t do anything wrong. But that can’t be true. Things were going so well between us, but I think I pushed him too far.”

Fresh tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

“I can feel how much you love him,” Lola says after a moment. “You wouldn’t be this torn up if that wasn’t the case.”

“I do,” I say through an exhale. “And he says that he loves me, and I haven’t had any reason to doubt him. But this… I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe he just needs a little time,” Lola offers, brushing away more tears from my cheeks. “You said it before. He’s still figuring things out. I remember a few months ago when you were crushing on him so badly, you told me that being with him was worth all of these big feelings it brought up. Well, now it sounds like you and Theo need to have a little heart-to-heart just to make sure you’re on the same page.”

She’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been dancing around the subject long enough. I need to tell Theo how it made me feel when he walked out. Maybe then he’ll trust in me enough to talk about whatever is going on with him.

Maybe.

“You’re right. I’m going to talk to him.”

Lola pumps her fist in the air. “Woot woot! I love to hear it. Say it again.”

“No chance in hell,” I reply through a laugh.

“Well, look at it this way, Cal.” She grabs the box of condoms from behind us, dangling them in front of my face. “If the two of you can clear the air, Dad’s got you hooked up to bang a few out while you’re at it.”

“Oh my god, shut up!” I snatch the box from her, rocketing off the bed.

“Don’t be silly, wrap your willy!” Lola calls after me as I flee her room.

I slam the door to my bedroom behind me, throwing the stupid box into the corner with my unpacked suitcase before falling face-first onto my bed.

Sometimes, I hate this family so much.

But I love them all the same.