Theoretically Perfect (Theoretically Straight #2)

14. Theo

Saturday, January 27

“Rise and shine, Theo! We need to leave in about an hour, okay?”

I let out a groan as Mom raps her knuckles against my door. I barely have to open my eyes to see that no sunlight shines through my curtains, so it can’t possibly be time to wake up yet.

Just five more minutes…

“You up, taku tama ?” Mom calls out from the other side of my door again. “You haven’t answered my calls, so I’m about to come in there!”

Shit, I must have dozed off again. Through the grogginess, I manage to peek at my phone for the time. 6:04 AM. Ugh, it’s so early. And it’s Saturday? Why is Mom waking me up so?—

Oh shit, the church luncheon thing. My punishment. Caleb.

“Theo?”

“Yeah, I’m up, I’m up,” I grumble, voice thick with sleep.

“We’re leaving in forty minutes.”

With effort, I lift myself upright. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”

One thing that my mother failed to mention about my “punishment” until yesterday was just how early I needed to be awake and ready to head to the church. I’m never up this early. Not even for school.

Fortunately, I told Caleb he doesn’t have to show up until 8:00 AM, but I still feel guilty that he has to wake up early on a Saturday. I mean, he doesn’t have to, but he said he wants to. For me.

I really don’t deserve him.

The morning moves fairly quickly from there. Mom and I leave the house to arrive at the church at 7 AM. Apparently, there was some type of children’s ministry event last night, so now we have to set up the chairs in the sanctuary in preparation for Mom’s thing. One of the church custodians is supposed to be here soon to guide the volunteers on where and how the rows should be arranged, but until he arrives, I follow Mom into the kitchen for some mediocre church coffee.

“Oh, praise God,” I hear Mom exclaim as we round the corner. “Megan, you’re a lifesaver.”

At that moment, the smell hits me, and I nearly start salivating on the spot. A modest spread of breakfast sandwiches and pastries from Cathy’s has been set up along the stainless-steel countertop, complete with several cartons of Cathy’s coffee. My eyes are immediately drawn to the individually wrapped fried chicken biscuits—at least twenty of them. Suddenly, I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Megan says from the end of the table, sipping on a steaming styrofoam cup. She smiles at me. “We really appreciate you volunteering your Saturday morning for us, Theo. Help yourself!”

I look to Mom for permission, which she grants with a nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Megan,” I declare before snatching up a warm sandwich, tearing through the silver foil, and shoving the chicken biscuit into my mouth with a sigh.

“Sup, Theo?”

I spin around to find the source of the familiar voice and offer him a smile and a wave. “Mm, hi, Jake,” I manage to mumble through a mouth full of buttery biscuit and juicy chicken.

“Theo!” Mom reprimands.

Jake laughs. “Don’t choke, dude,” he says, giving me a friendly pat on the back. “We’ve got work to do!”

I nod, fully chewing and swallowing my bite before speaking again. “I didn’t know you’d be here today, man.” I step closer and lower my voice. “Did you get in trouble, too?”

Jake furrows his brow incredulously. “Nah, dude. I’m here most Saturdays.”

I stare at him. “What? Really?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

Jake hesitates, glances behind me at Mom and the other ladies chatting by the coffee cartons, then gestures for me to follow him out of the kitchen. I join him out into the main corridor, mirroring him as he leans against the opposite wall from the kitchen. “So yeah,” he continues. “Whenever there’s an event on a Saturday morning, I almost always volunteer to help with the set-up. They almost always give me free breakfast and lunch, and once the event starts, I can just fuck off and do whatever I want until it’s over.”

I can’t stop myself from flinching at Jake’s casual dropping of “fuck” within the church walls. Even if no adults can hear us, I can’t help but wonder if God might frown on us cursing in His house. But then again, all things considered, that seems like a pretty minor offense, especially when Jake and I are here for volunteer work. It feels like that might balance it out a bit, right? Does it count if my presence here is a punishment? But Jake is here by choice, so maybe only I can’t curse.

As if reading my mind, Jake chuckles. “Dude, you can say ‘fuck’ at church on a Saturday. I’ve been saying it for years and God hasn’t struck me down so far, so I think it’s safe.”

I huff a small laugh. “If you say so.” I take another bite of my biscuit, chewing slowly and savoring it for a bit before swallowing. God, it’s been so long since I’ve had Cathy’s for breakfast. They stop serving it at 10:30 AM every morning, and I’m rarely out of the house earlier than that for any reason other than school or church, and there’s definitely not enough time for a Cathy’s breakfast run on those days. A heavy, satisfied sigh escapes my lungs before I can stop it.

“Jeez, Theo,” Jake says with a laugh that almost sounds nervous. “Do I need to give you and your biscuit some privacy?”

My cheeks start burning immediately. “S-Sorry.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Jake says, bumping into my shoulder with his. “Although, I’m surprised you like the food at Cathy’s at all. You still work there, right? Don’t you get sick of it?”

I shrug. “I get sick of the place, but never the food. I swear they put something addictive in the chicken.”

Jake snorts. “Crack, maybe?”

“Nah, probably just an insane amount of MSG.”

“Eh, ‘ to-may-toe, to-mah-toe .’”

I burst into giggles, almost dropping the biscuit completely, which makes Jake laugh, too.

“All right, boys, it’s time to get started with the chairs,” booms a familiar voice from down the hall. Jake straightens up immediately, and I turn to see Jim Buchanon, Jake’s dad, waving us into the sanctuary.

“Yes, sir,” Jake replies robotically before marching ahead. I pop the rest of my biscuit into my mouth and follow Jake’s lead, tossing the foil in a nearby trashcan and wiping my hands down my pants as we enter the sanctuary together.

With all eight volunteers and the church custodian, the set-up takes about forty minutes. The church custodian is a soft-spoken, curly-haired guy around Grace’s age with a thick southern drawl and a warm smile. He does most of the heavy lifting and seems very appreciative of our help. To think that he has to do this stuff by himself most weekends before church each Sunday is appalling. No matter what he’s getting paid, it definitely doesn’t seem like enough.

Just as we’re wrapping up, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and my stomach flips with excitement.

Caleb

Just got dropped off by the big building…where should I go?

Theo

cool, just stay put, I’m on my way to let you in 3

“I’ll be right back,” I blurt out before jogging to the entrance. Sure enough, there’s Caleb, standing rather awkwardly under the awning, hands tucked in his hoodie pocket. His face lights up as soon as his eyes meet mine, and my heart swells.

I press on the push bar and hold the door open for him. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself,” he replies, stepping inside.

After a quick glance around the room, I wrap him into a quick hug. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

As he pulls away, Caleb peeks at his phone. “It’s no problem. It’s not even that early. How long have you been here?”

“Eh, not too long,” I reply. “Are you hungry? There’s some breakfast from Cathy’s in the kitchen for the volunteers.”

“That sounds amazing.”

I guide him past the entrance to the sanctuary and into the kitchen, where Mom, Megan, and several other church women I recognize are hard at work on various platters and desserts.

“Oh, hi, Caleb!” Mom calls out, elbow-deep in what appears to be dough. “So good to see you!”

“Good to see you, too, Ms. Kora,” Caleb says politely.

“Help yourself to some breakfast,” Megan chimes in. “We appreciate you giving up a Saturday to help us out!”

Caleb thanks her, picks out a chicken biscuit, and the two of us make our way into the hallway. Before Caleb even manages to get his biscuit unwrapped, Jake suddenly appears next to me, and I jump.

“I was wondering where you ran off to,” Jake says, then curiously glances between Caleb and me. “Who’s your friend?”

“Jake, this is Caleb,” I say slowly, raising my eyebrows in hopes that he remembers to stay discreet. “Caleb, this is Jake. He’s in my small group.”

Jake nods knowingly. “Ah, so you’re Caleb. Glad to finally put a face to the name!”

“Likewise,” Caleb replies curtly before shoving a bite of biscuit into his mouth.

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence before Jake clears his throat. “So I think the chairs are done. Now we’re just waiting for the next task.” He turns to Caleb. “Are you here to volunteer, too?”

Caleb nods.

“Cool, cool.” Jake looks back at me. “With this many guys, I imagine we’ll get this stuff done pretty fast.”

“Yeah, probably,” I agree.

“Once the luncheon starts and they don’t need us, I’ll show you guys where I usually hang out until we have to come back to break stuff down,” Jake continues. “Y’all in?”

“Sure!” I exclaim, then look to Caleb. “I mean, if you want to stay that long, that is. You really don’t have to.”

Caleb shrugs. “I’m down for whatever you want to do.”

“Cool,” Jake says with a smile. “I’ll let you finish your breakfast, Caleb. See you guys in a bit!” He extends out a fist, which I instinctually bump with my own fist, and Jake turns and jogs away.

I watch Jake disappear back into the sanctuary, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s suddenly a tension between Caleb and me that wasn’t there before. Am I being paranoid?

“So,” Caleb says abruptly. “Is that the same Jake that your dad mentioned when he called you on Saturday morning?”

I frown, then I remember. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” I try to calm the random nerves in my stomach. “Our dads are both elders, and I think they both like the idea of us hanging out so we can be good influences on each other or whatever.”

Caleb considers this as he chews another bite of biscuit. “I guess that makes sense. I’m sure he’s a much better influence than I am, huh?”

I wince. “Caleb–”

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “That wasn’t fair.”

I sigh. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” I glance around the room for anyone who might be listening in but still lower my voice to continue. “But my dad doesn’t have any idea how wrong he is.”

Caleb quirks a brow, but I quickly regret saying anything. Jake came out to me in confidence, and I don’t know if he’s out to anyone else. As someone who has been outed before, I refuse to even come close to doing the same to someone else.

Instead of elaborating, I clear my own throat. “Anyway, you ready to do some annoying manual labor for no pay?”

Caleb tosses the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth, crumples up his foil wrapper, and gives me a thumbs up. And with that, I lead the way back into the sanctuary to join the other volunteers.

Once we start getting specific tasks assigned to us, the morning moves much faster. We set up tables, arrange signage, assist with decorating, and eventually are given some type of kitchen duty. I try to keep an eye on Caleb at every turn, ensuring he isn’t cornered by any nosy elders or left alone with any overly observant church ladies. Caleb isn’t exactly subtle about who he is—which is something I love about him, but I can also recognize the danger that it poses in a place like this. If I think about it too hard, it’ll make me sick.

Jake, on the other hand, is a lot more like me when it comes to appearances. He doesn’t give off “gay vibes,” at least not as far as I can tell. I do wonder if Caleb will sense it, though. I kind of hope so.

Before we know it, it’s already 11 AM, and guests begin trickling in. Some of the volunteers have already disappeared, but Jake, Caleb, and I linger in the kitchen and await our next instructions.

“Well, I think that’s everything for the time being,” Megan declares to the handful of others in the kitchen, then turns to us. “Boys, thank you again for all your help so far!”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Megan,” Jake replies, peeling off his serving gloves. He looks at his mom. “We’re going to hang out upstairs in the loft until you need us again. Is that okay, Mom?”

Nina Buchanon gives her son a nod. “Fine by me. We’ll call you when it’s time for clean-up. Be smart, don’t get into any trouble up there.”

“And stay together,” Mom chimes in, looking directly at me. “Don’t you two wander off without Jake and get lost, okay?”

I try not to roll my eyes at the heavy implication in her voice. “We won’t. Thanks, Mom!”

Following Jake’s lead, the three of us manage to sneak outside the back door, avoiding the luncheon completely by circling to the opposite side of the building. Jake retrieves a massive keyring from his pocket, covered in dozens of keys of varying colors and sizes. Somehow he knows exactly which key to use, unlocking the door on the first try.

“Wow, you really are here all the time,” I mumble as we cross back over the threshold.

Jake laughs sarcastically as he relocks the door. “Man, you have no idea. As often as I have to help out with all the different stuff going on, it’s no wonder my parents haven’t been reported to CPS for breaking child labor laws.”

I frown at him. “Wait, I thought you said you volunteer most Saturdays because of the free food and free reign you get when it’s over?”

Jake leads us through another door, this one with a staircase. “Okay, I may have lied to make you feel better.”

“Are you saying your parents force you to volunteer every Saturday?” Caleb asks from behind us. “Or is it more like Theo, and this is a punishment?”

Jake pauses mid-step, turning around slightly to face us. “‘Force’ might not be the right word. ‘Punishment’ might be a little closer.” He resumes his trek up the stairs, and we continue to follow him.

“Punishment for what?” Caleb asks.

Jake doesn’t answer. He picks up the pace a bit so he can switch on the lights at the top of the stairs, illuminating our destination. What I was expecting to be a dusty, mostly abandoned attic turns out to be a strange combination of a storage room and a tech room. The walls are lined with a half-dozen racks full of costumes, baptism robes, and other random clothing. At the far end of the room is a window overlooking the sanctuary, as well as a massive switchboard. The rest of the space is full of random stacks of chairs, boxes, folding tables, and several bizarrely shaped pieces of furniture.

“Where are we?” I finally manage to ask.

“Oh shit,” Jake replies. “You’ve never been up here before?”

I shake my head.

“That’s crazy!” Jake says with a chuckle. “I’ve been coming up here for years! Dude, do you remember those fasting lock-ins we used to do in middle school?”

“Nah, man, my parents never let me go to those things!” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Apparently, they didn’t like the idea of starving their kid for thirty hours or whatever it was.”

Jake laughs. “Ooh, fancy-pants, little golden boy over here with parents that actually care about their kid’s well-being? Couldn’t be me!”

I scoff. “Are you kidding? I always wanted to go to one! Lock-ins sounded so much fun!”

“Yeah, they actually were pretty fun,” Jake admits. “It’s actually how I found this place, like two years ago. They don’t use it for anything more than a storage room nowadays, but it used to be where they controlled the lights, sound, and technology shit for service before we got too fancy for it. Now they control everything from the booth downstairs.”

“Hang on, going back to the fasting thing—are you saying adults just let middle schoolers roam free in the building during the lock-ins?” I ask incredulously. “That’s insane!”

“Right?” Jake shakes his head. “Most kids just made out in storage closets or drew dicks on the dry-erase boards in the classrooms. I know because I was one of the lucky elders’ kids who had to go in and erase all those dicks before Sunday school the next day.”

“That sucks, dude,” I lament. “Damn, that makes me really miss Keith sometimes.”

“Ugh,” Jake sighs. “Keith was something else, man. He was way more fun than Chase, but boy, he was fuckin’ crazy. I’m surprised he didn’t end up getting fired for all the shenanigans we got into back in?—”

“So, Jake, you never answered my question,” Caleb interrupts, and I immediately feel a swell of guilt for leaving him out of the conversation for so long.

“Sorry, man,” Jake replies casually. “What question was that?”

Caleb rolls his eyes. “About why you’re here every Saturday? If it’s a punishment, what is it a punishment for?”

Jake furrows his brow and then looks at me. “You didn’t tell him yet?”

I shake my head. “That’s your business, not mine.”

“Aww, Theo,” Jake coos, clutching a hand to his chest and batting his eyes at me. “You really are a sweetheart.” He winks at Caleb. “Caleb, you better hold him tight and never let go.”

“Cool, so are either of you planning to clue me in on anything?” Caleb asks, an unexpected sharpness to his tone. “Or is making me feel like a third wheel more entertaining?”

My jaw drops. Oh shit, I’ve messed up again.

But before I can answer, Jake laughs. “Here, let me clear this up. I’m gay.”

Caleb inhales sharply, and it looks like he’s about to continue, but he hesitates. “Okay, yeah, I kind of gathered?—”

“And Theo’s one of the very few people I’ve come out to so far,” Jake adds. “Since you guys are boyfriends, I was sure he had told you, but I think it’s really sweet that he didn’t. Makes sense, given that shit Little Miss Christian pulled last fall. God, I can’t even fucking imagine.”

“Hang on,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “Caleb, you just said you ‘gathered’ when Jake said he was gay. What does that mean?”

Caleb rolls his eyes again. “My gaydar might not be perfect, but I picked up on these vibes right away.” He gestures between Jake and me, which confuses me even more.

Jake frowns, then puts his hands up defensively and takes a step back. “Whoa, no, dude, it’s not like that.”

“And what is it like, then?” Caleb asks, a challenging tone in his voice I’ve only heard once before with Dad last week.

Jake turns to me for help, and the pieces finally fall into place in my brain.

“Oh, Caleb, no,” I say quickly, closing the gap between Caleb and myself and taking his hands in mine. “Jake and I are just friends. Always have been, always will be.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Theo’s a catch, but I respect him and his boundaries.” Jake smiles at me. “Plus, I consider Theo to be one of my closest friends, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

I blink, slightly taken aback at Jake’s abrupt sincerity. He considers me one of his closest friends? Since when? I hadn’t really considered that until this moment, but it makes sense. We’re both mostly-closeted queer guys with homophobic dads in conservative Christian households. I share more in common with Jake than I even do with Caleb.

Caleb’s eyes are locked on me, and I’m suddenly aware that Jake’s confession feels like it could be misinterpreted as romantic. It could just be my imagination, but I can’t shake the feeling that I need to say something to set the record straight with Caleb—and fast.

“And we’re basically like brothers,” I add quickly, glancing back at Jake for confirmation.

Jake says nothing. His smile falters, and he looks away completely. My stomach sinks.

Ugh. No. Surely, this is just in my head. Not every gay guy has a crush on you, Theo. Snap out of it and focus on what matters.

I turn my full attention back to Caleb and grip his hands tighter. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this stuff sooner. But this time, I actually had a good reason.”

After a tense moment, Caleb sighs. “Yeah, okay, you’re right.” He leans in closer and begins to relax his posture. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I get it, man,” Jake calls back to us from deeper into the room—I apparently had been so concerned about Caleb that I didn’t notice Jake had meandered away. “Jealousy is one hell of a drug.”

Caleb stiffens. “I’m not jealous.”

I bite my tongue before I wind up digging myself deeper into a hole.

Jake snorts. “Sure, babe.” Before Caleb can respond, Jake reappears from whatever corner of the room he’d escaped to with a wide, mischievous grin. “Have y’all ever heard of carpetball?”

“Carpetball?” Caleb repeats skeptically.

Curious, I interlock my fingers with Caleb’s and make my way to Jake, gently leading Caleb behind me. “Is that supposed to be a euphemism for something?”

Jake snickers. “Oh, my sweet, innocent boys. Y’all are in for such a treat.”