Theoretically Perfect (Theoretically Straight #2)

10. Theo

The force of Caleb slamming the hotel door sends a tremor across the hotel room, rattling furniture and dishes in its wake. The silence that follows Caleb’s abrupt exit, however, is far louder.

“What the hell just happened?” Elise asks loudly from the bedroom, joining the rest of us in the kitchen.

“Do you mean with the ghosts or with Caleb?” Oliver asks after a beat.

“Not the time, Oliver,” Harrison mutters.

“It’s called ‘comic relief,’ Harry,” Oliver replies, retrieving the discarded EMF meter from the counter and examining it for damage.

“Theo, what did you do?” Elise demands, punching me in the shoulder a bit more aggressively than usual, but I can’t help but feel like I deserve it.

“I…I think I fucked up,” I choke out, my throat suddenly tight.

“Oh, you think?” Wren snaps coldly.

Guilt twists in my stomach while tears quickly start stinging at the back of my eyes. This is all my fault. I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. Everything—the trip, this night, my entire relationship—is ruined, and it’s all my fault.

“Is everything okay?” Ashley asks, suddenly appearing behind Elise. “Something tells me that wasn’t a ghost that just slammed the heck out of that door.”

All eyes are on me to provide an explanation, but I’m frozen. If I open my mouth, I’m certain a sob will escape, so I drop my gaze to the floor and shrug.

“Where’s Caleb?” Ashley asks when no one answers.

Caleb. My chest aches. I want to go after him—I want to wrap my arms around him, hold him close, bury my face into his neck, and tell him everything—but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed under the intense stare of my friends and our chaperone, with every ounce of energy I can muster focused solely on not bursting into tears in the middle of a haunted kitchenette.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go check on him, then,” Wren hisses, angrily shoving past me toward the door.

“Thank you, Wren,” Ashley says warily. “Text me if y’all need anything, okay?”

“Yep,” Wren barks back, immediately followed by the thunk of the door.

After another beat of tense silence, Ashley clears her throat. “So, we still have just over an hour of time left in this room. Do y’all still want to do this, or are we done for the night?”

I swallow the lump in my throat and blink away my tears. “Let’s keep going,” I croak, desperate for a distraction and eager to no longer be the center of attention. “I think there’s still enough time to get something, right?”

No one says a word for several seconds, and my heart sinks. I deserve this. Not only does Caleb hate me, but now everyone else does, too. I deserve it.

“Definitely,” Oliver finally declares, retrieving the dowsing rods that Wren must have abandoned on the kitchen counter. “We might as well get our money’s worth, right?”

Harrison looks to Elise, who is still trying to stare me down, but I carefully avoid eye contact. “Yeah, I’m down to keep looking if you guys are.”

Ashley offers us a smile. “That’s the spirit!”

“Where?!” Oliver asks, dramatically holding out the dowsing rods close to Ashley, and everyone collectively rolls their eyes.

The last hour of our paranormal investigation is completely uneventful. The EMF meter gets a few random hits, and of course, we have some audio recordings that we’ll have to playback and review later, but otherwise, the only unseen forces I experience are guilt, embarrassment, and anxiety about what the rest of this trip will bring.

“Okay, idiot, start talking.”

I glance up from packing the equipment to see Elise glaring down at me, arms crossed over her chest. I’ve felt her furious eyes on me ever since Caleb left, so I knew it was only a matter of time before she confronted me. I was just hoping it would wait until after we left the haunted room.

“What did you do to Caleb?”

I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“That sure is a shame,” she scoffs. “Now, spill.”

“Babe, come on,” Harrison says, gently placing his hand on Elise’s shoulder. “Let them sort it out. It’s their first fight, and it’s not our place to butt in.”

Elise opens her mouth to argue with him but turns back to me. “Fine. But you’re going to sort it out, right?”

“I would hope so,” Oliver chimes in from beside me, zipping up one of the bags. “Considering that you and Caleb are sharing a bed tonight.”

Shit. I completely forgot about that.

Well, not completely. I’ve just been very intentionally trying to avoid thinking about it. Does that count as forgetting?

“Yeah,” I finally say. “I’m going to try to talk to him. If he still wants to listen to me, that is.”

Elise’s expression softens. “I’m sure he does. Caleb loves you. You’ll get through this.”

My shoulders slump. Caleb did love me. Maybe he doesn’t anymore. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m a shitty boyfriend.

“Okay, gang,” Ashley announces from the front door. “Our time’s up! Let’s head back downstairs to our rooms and get settled in for the night.”

“Coming,” Harrison calls back, carefully slinging his camera bag over his shoulder. “Is that everything?”

“Think so,” Oliver replies as he stands up, towering over me as I’m still on my knees over the bags of equipment on the floor. He extends a hand to me, lifting me to my feet effortlessly. “You want us to give you and Caleb some space to talk it out?”

I swallow. “Yeah, I think that might be good.”

Oliver nods, giving me a hearty pat on the back before gathering the rest of the equipment.

The four of us make our way out into the hallway with Ashley and to the elevator in relative silence. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor as we awkwardly board the fancy mirrored elevator, and I can feel Ashley’s eyes watching the shame burning my cheeks in my reflection. She may not be my parent, but she definitely has that mom radar, and I imagine that she’s debating whether or not she should try to intervene. I just really hope she doesn’t. I’ve had enough confrontation for one day—I certainly don’t need more.

As the elevator makes its slow descent, my stomach is in knots. What do I even say to Caleb? Obviously, he knows I’m hiding something from him, so there’s no point in lying about it anymore. I have to come clean about how much the stuff about my dad is weighing on me. But what if it makes Caleb want to break up with me? That’s a very Caleb thing to do—if he thinks he’s the problem, he’d rather just cut himself out of the equation to try to “protect me” than stick it out if he thinks it’s only going to make me miserable. I need him to understand that I’d rather be miserable with Caleb than be miserable alone.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s all I need to say.

Unless of course, this entire relationship is no longer something Caleb wants. Maybe having a (mostly) closeted bisexual boyfriend with a close-minded dad is in and of itself unbearable for Caleb. Maybe Caleb is actually sick of being with someone like me—someone who forces him to hide who he is and hide how he feels about his own boyfriend.

Maybe Caleb finally realized that I’m not worth the trouble after all.

My head is spinning by the time we reach our rooms on the sixth floor. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t do this. I can’t lose Caleb. I can’t.

“So, do you guys want to start reviewing some of the audio recordings tonight?” Harrison asks as he digs the key card to the room from his wallet.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Oliver agrees. “Ashley, can we use y’all’s room? Theo’s not feeling too great and might want to go to sleep early.” He raises his eyebrows at me, a signal to play along.

“I don’t see why not,” Ashley replies as she opens the door to the adjoining room. “I might slip down to the lobby to Facetime your dad and the girls for a few minutes anyway.” She gives Oliver a pointed look. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, though, okay? If y’all are ever interested in doing stuff like this again in the future, it would be wise not to make things unpleasant for me. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Oliver echoes.

Ashley clicks her tongue, shooting Oliver finger guns. I have to look away to stop myself from visibly cringing.

“Did you just shoot me finger guns?” Oliver asks incredulously.

“Sure did!” She smiles. “Got a problem with it?”

Oliver opens his mouth to answer, then thinks better of it. “Nope.”

“That’s what I thought.”

With that, we enter our respective rooms to find that the connecting doors between the rooms have both been left open. The boys’ room is mostly dark, only lit by the television. Stepping in further, my stomach drops as I spot Caleb sound asleep in our bed, his head in Wren’s lap as they bury their fingers in his russet curls. Wren gives me an icy glare from where they are seated, propped up on my side of the bed.

“Oh shit,” Oliver whispers as he enters, and Wren momentarily shifts their hostility to him instead. “Is he out for the night?”

Wren nods, gently untangling their digits from Caleb’s hair. “Let him sleep,” they whisper. “He needs it.”

“We were heading into y’all’s room anyway,” Harrison chimes in from behind me. “To review the footage and recordings, see if we got anything.”

“We can all join in the other room, then,” Oliver whispers to me, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “So he can sleep.”

I turn my attention back to Caleb, my chest aching at the sight of him. There’s a tissue box on the nightstand and a trashcan full of used tissues on the floor beside Wren. I distinctly remember that trashcan being empty when we left.

Caleb’s been crying. He cried himself to sleep. Because of me.

I feel like an absolute monster.

Wren slowly and carefully slides out of the bed, cradling Caleb’s head as they replace their lap with a pillow. Once he’s settled, Wren turns to me with a scowl. “You’re going to fix this.”

I nod weakly, staring at the floor.

“Tomorrow,” Wren continues. “Tonight, you’re going to leave him alone and let him sleep.”

I nod again.

Without another word, Wren steps around me and through the connecting doors to their own room. Footsteps follow behind them until Harrison puts a hand on my shoulder.

“You coming?”

I shake my head. “I’m going to bed,” I whisper. “I just—I just want to sleep.”

Harrison gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to join the others in the adjoining room.

As quietly as possible, I retrieve my overnight bag, retreat to the bathroom, and start up the shower. The bathroom fan and water pressure from the shower are enough to muffle my sniffling, and I’m finally safe to open the floodgates. Tears flow freely down my cheeks, mixing with the scalding water that fills the room with steam.

I should’ve followed Caleb downstairs.

I should’ve left room 1313 to talk things out with Caleb, to fix what I broke, to undo the pain I caused him.

Better yet, I never should’ve given him a reason to cry in the first place.

I’m such a fucking monster.

When I’ve finally finished crying and showering, I toss on a T-shirt and gym shorts, brush my teeth, and slip out of the bathroom. I find Caleb exactly where Wren left him, his breaths still deep and even with sleep. My fingers itch to touch him—just a gentle kiss on the forehead or a stroke of his cheek—but I remember Wren’s warning about letting him sleep, and I know they’re right.

Before I do something I’ll regret, I delicately slide under the covers beside Caleb, careful not to pull the blankets or disturb the bed too much. As I settle in the sheets, Caleb stirs, and I freeze. His eyes flutter open, and before he can focus on me, I quickly shut my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I listen as Caleb stills, shuffles, and then goes quiet again. A moment or two passes, so I peek one eye open, only for my heart to sink into my stomach. Apparently, upon seeing me next to him, Caleb turned to face away from me and scooted his body as far away from me as possible. He’s practically dangling off the edge of the double bed, clearly preferring to fall onto the dingy, century-old hotel carpet than be close to me.

I squeeze my eyes closed, willing myself not to cry again.

“It doesn’t matter the reason. They shouldn’t keep things from each other if they love one another.”

“Maybe they kept it to themselves because they were afraid of hurting each other.”

“They’re already hurting each other! So they might as well hurt each other with the truth!”

Caleb’s words echo in my head as I blink away more tears.

I have to fix this. If I don’t fix this, I’ll lose him forever.

Sunday, January 21

“Caleb!”

I’m running—sprinting down an endless wallpapered corridor, racing to escape the billowing smoke rising from the elevator shaft.

I’m running, but I’m also looking for Caleb—panicking, screaming his name. Where is he? Why isn’t he with me?

Mom and Dad are calling for me from outside the burning building. Sienna is at the top of the stairwell with an outstretched arm, ushering me to come with her.

“Theo, we have to go! Now!”

“Where’s Caleb? I have to find Caleb!”

“There’s not enough time, come on!”

“Not without Caleb!”

I burst through another door, desperately searching for my boyfriend. Where did he go? Why can’t I find him?

“Come on, brother, it’s time to go!” Chase yells from the stairwell. “Maybe he’s already downstairs!”

No. I know he’s not out of the building yet because Caleb wouldn’t have gone without me, so I can’t leave without him. “Caleb!” I scream, but no sound escapes my throat.

“Theo, over here!”

It’s Jake Buchanon, pointing out a broken window in the hallway. “I found him! Down there!”

I dash to the window with Jake and look down. Sure enough, Caleb is on the ground, safe and sound with the rest of the crew—Harrison, Elise, Oliver, Wren, Freddy, and Andrew.

Oh, thank God. Caleb is safe. They’re all safe.

Just as I go to sigh with relief, I feel an intense heat surround me, pressure building on my chest. Shit. I have to get out of here.

“Come on, let’s jump!”

An unfamiliar female voice giggles behind me. I spin around to find a strange woman in a flapper dress with a wide smile. Her eyes are milky white, glazed over as she approaches the window.

I gawk at her. “We can’t jump,” I exclaim. “That fall would kill us!”

The woman shrugs. “Might as well hurt each other with the truth!” And with that, she flings herself over the ledge and out the window, and I shove myself away from the edge so I don’t see her hit the ground.

The heat on my chest intensifies, and I feel myself start to panic. “No, no, no?—”

“As long as you’re under my roof, I can’t put up with blatant immoral behavior.”

I freeze. “Dad?”

Sure enough, Dad is standing in the stairwell. He shakes his head, watching me in disgust.

“Dad, we have to get out of here–”

“French kissing a boy at a public event and declaring your sexuality on an internet show? That’s blatant immoral behavior. It’s unacceptable, and you know it.”

Unacceptable. Unacceptable. “Dad, I–I’m sorry. Please, you have to?—”

“Do the right thing, Theo.”

I stare at him, trying to take a breath, but I can’t breathe. The pressure on my chest—hot, heavy, solid pressure—I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe?—

“Do the right thing.”

I wake up with a yelp, covered in sweat and struggling to breathe. I frantically look down at my chest to find the source of the pressure?—

“Theo?”

Caleb’s eyes flutter open above me, his curls even wilder than usual from sleep.

I blink several times, reality slowly coming back to me as I get my bearings straight.

I’m in an unfamiliar bed—a hotel bed. The Kendling Hotel.

Memories immediately flood back into my mind—room 1313, the dowsing rods, Caleb storming out, Wren’s icy glare, Caleb scooting away from me in the bed.

Our bed. We’re sharing a bed. The heat and the pressure from my dream was just Caleb’s weight concentrated on my chest and stomach as he lays on top of me, our legs entangled under the sheets, our waists pressed together, and?—

Oh. Oh.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Caleb is on top of me.

In a matter of moments, the terror from what must have been a nightmare morphs into unmistakable arousal as I feel every burning point of contact between us. Blood travels south at lightning speed, and I’m suddenly very aware of a rapidly growing problem.

Oh, oh no. Oh no, no, no.

“I got, um—” I grunt. “I gotta pee. Right now.”

“Hm?” Caleb blinks, then begins to understand. “Oh. Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know how I got here?—”

“It’s fine, it’s okay, I just—I just need to?—”

“Yep, sorry, I’ll just?—”

There’s no way Caleb doesn’t notice my problem while I scramble away, despite my valiant effort to hide it. I whisper a quick prayer, thanking God that the bathroom isn’t occupied as I rush in, locking the door behind me. I turn the sink on, splash cold water on my face and forearms, and then sit on the toilet lid, burying my head in my hands.

That was a fucking disaster. How did Caleb end up on top of me? When I fell asleep, he was at least two full feet away from me. And what was up with that dream? The details are already fading fast, like sand slipping through my fingers. It was definitely a nightmare, though. I haven’t had a nightmare in ages.

“Hey, Theo, you okay in there?”

I sigh. It’s just Harrison. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, good,” Harrison mumbles groggily. “I’ve gotta pee when you’re done.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Fortunately, trying to recall specific elements of my dream has helped distract me from my other problem, so maybe now I can play this off like a normal visit to the bathroom.

Once I am finally able to regain my composure, I open the door, almost slamming into Harrison. “Morning,” I say as cheerfully as possible.

Harrison simply grunts in response, then retreats to the bathroom. Even after all these years as best friends, it always surprises me that he’s not a morning person.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever is around the corner.

The lights in the hotel room are still out, but rays of sunlight have crept in through the edges of the curtains. I can faintly see one of Oliver’s gangly legs dangling off the side of his bed, but otherwise, he must still be asleep.

And then, propped up on his side of our bed, there’s Caleb. His face is dimly lit by the light of his phone, and my stomach flutters with a conflicting mix of anxiety and affection.

God, what is wrong with me?

I make my way over to our bed, awkwardly crawling in. “Hey,” I whisper.

Caleb locks his phone and puts it face down in his lap but doesn’t look at me. “Hey.”

We sit in agonizing silence for several moments until I can’t stand it anymore. “Caleb, I’m so sorry. Can we talk?”

Caleb doesn’t move or speak. He eventually sighs.

A lump is already forming in my throat. “Please?”

Caleb looks over at Oliver’s bed, then at his phone. “The hotel tour is in an hour.”

“We don’t have to go,” I say without hesitation. “This is way more important.”

Caleb runs his fingers through his hair. “You shouldn’t have to miss it. I’ve already ruined this trip for you, and any chance of you capturing any footage?—”

“I don’t care about that stuff.”

He scoffs. “Yes, you do, don’t?—”

“Not as much as I care about you. About us. I want to fix this, please.”

Caleb pulls his knees to his chest and turns away, sending a new wave of agony through my chest.

“Please, Caleb. I love you.”

Before Caleb can respond, Harrison opens the bathroom door and rounds the corner. “Who’s showering first? We’ve got about an hour before we’re supposed to meet downstairs.”

Oliver groans.

“I showered last night,” I answer.

“I’d like to go first if that’s cool,” Caleb says, and my heart sinks again. “I’ll be quick.”

“Sure,” Harrison replies. “Oliver?”

Oliver lets out another groan.

Harrison makes his way over to the bed, picks up his pillow, and gives Oliver a gentle whack, eliciting a louder groan. “Come on, dude. Do you need to shower?”

“Don’t wanna,” Oliver grumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“There’s free breakfast downstairs.”

Oliver perks up immediately. “Oh shit, why didn’t you open with that?”

Harrison snorts. “Do you ever listen to your stepmom at all? She told us last night.”

Oliver sits up, stretching his long limbs and yawning. “I forgot! A lot happened last night.”

While Harry and Oliver bicker, Caleb slips out of bed, grabs his overnight bag, and disappears into the bathroom. As soon as I hear the shower running, I collapse back onto my pillow, pulling the covers over my face.

“Uh oh,” Oliver mutters. “Everything okay, man?”

I don’t answer. What is there to say?

The mattress dips slightly with the weight of someone sitting on Caleb’s side. “Did you guys talk last night?” Harrison asks.

“Nope.”

There’s a pause. “Do you guys need us to clear out so you can talk once Caleb is out of the shower?” Oliver asks.

“We both have to shower, too,” Harrison counters.

“I can go get breakfast while you shower and then they’ll be alone in here,” Oliver replies. “Perfect opportunity.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Oliver is being shockingly helpful. “Maybe,” I croak. “I was thinking about skipping the tour to talk to Caleb, but I don’t want him to have to miss it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Well,” Harrison starts hesitantly. “I don’t think Caleb cares about the tour anymore. Wren said he was considering calling his sister to come pick him up.”

I shoot upward, knocking the covers off. “What?”

Harrison raises his hands. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t worry about whether or not Caleb wants to see the tour. I think you guys should both skip the tour and talk.”

I rub the back of my neck. “How? Ashley’s not going to let us do that.”

“Pretend you’re sick,” Oliver suggests. “Y’all were both acting weird last night anyway. It’s believable enough.”

“Do you really think that’ll work?” Harrison asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I mean, she’s not stupid. She knows Theo and Caleb are dating, right?”

“Let me handle Ashley,” Oliver says, waving his hand dismissively. “As long as you guys don’t have make-up sex after, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

My stomach swoops at that, instantly sending heat to my cheeks, and I bark out a dry laugh. “Yeah, no, that’s not going to be a problem.”

“Then it’s settled,” Harrison continues. “You guys ate something funny last night that didn’t agree with your stomachs, and you’re not feeling up for the tour.”

“You both got the shits,” Oliver says with a grin. “You’ll need both bathrooms available. We should go ahead and initiate the ruse. Theo, go bang on the door and tell them you’ve got to use their toilet—it’s urgent.”

My face twists with disgust.

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Oliver?—”

“What? It’s got to be believable!”

From our bathroom, I hear the shower cut off. “Come up with something better,” I say, lowering my voice. “You know the girls and Wren are going to be using their bathroom to get ready. Plus, that’s disgusting.”

“Ugh, fine,” Oliver whines. “We’ll figure it out. You just stay here with Caleb and do whatever you guys need to do. Preferably something that involves you two staying together. I’ve already dealt with my parents’ divorce, and I’d rather not go through it again with y’all.”

I manage a weak laugh. “I’ll try my best.”

Harrison puts a hand on my knee above the covers. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as Caleb leaves the bathroom, Harrison immediately claims the shower, and Oliver loudly announces his departure to breakfast through the adjoining door that connects our two rooms and disappears. Caleb settles in the chair in the corner—seriously, why is there always just one random chair in hotel rooms? That’s weird, right? —so I stare aimlessly at my phone until I hear Harrison’s shower start.

“So, Oliver says he’s going to cover for us so we can talk. If you still want to.”

Caleb doesn’t look up from his phone. “The tour starts in like twenty minutes.”

“I’m not going.”

Caleb finally glances up at me, studying me curiously. “Really?”

I nod. “You were right. I shouldn’t keep things from you, regardless of my intentions. I don’t want to lose you, Caleb.”

Caleb’s expression softens. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

My heart thuds in my chest. “So, can we talk?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

My face cracks into a smile as relief washes over me. I can fix this. Everything is going to be okay.