Page 12 of Septembers

“Right now? I’m gross.”

He had a point. There was a certain post-exercise waft. “Fifteen minutes. You’re not getting out of this.”

Dae sighed like Theo was forcing him to read the entire dictionary but went into the bathroom without further argument—possibly because he’d exhausted his quota of words for the day. He returned with damp hair, dressed in a fresh oversized t-shirt with baggy gym shorts, as if actively trying to prove Theo’s point.

“Come on,” Theo said, walking past him into his bedroom. The pile of notebooks was gone, likely tucked away from snoops, and though his bed was made, the blanket was rumpled. His room smelled pleasant, and Theo breathed deep, trying to figure out why. It wasn’t a candle or air freshener or anything so obvious. It was just a mixture of Dae; the spices he used to cook, his deodorant, his books, and something woodsy, like he was secretly a nymph.

One more mystery to add to the Dae-list.

His closet was mostly filled with more of the same baggy bullshit, but in the back hung a surprising number of v-necks and button-ups. “Where did these come from?”

“My sister’s into fashion. And she’s bossy.”

“I like her already.” Theo reached inside and then handed him some jeans and one of the shirts. “Put this on.”

Dae stared at him as pink lit up his cheeks. It was so adorable that it took Theo a moment too long to realize why he was hesitating.

“Oh! Right. I’ll be…” He sidestepped towards the door, then shot Dae an awkward smile as he escaped. Pacing the living room didn’t do much to erase the image of Dae’s bashful look that had burned itself onto Theo’s brain.

“Okay.” The word was so tiny behind the door that Theo barely registered it before Dae stepped out a moment later. His jeans hung perfectly on his hips, hugging his thighs without being too tight, and the button-up shirt was just snug enough to hint at the physique beneath.

“Wow.”

“Stop it.” Gaze to the floor, lips pressed together to prevent a smile. “So this is the kind of thing you lik—” Dae cleared his throat, then shook his head. “I mean, you think I should dress like this?”

“Should is a strong word. Just, you know, sometimes. If you want.” The last thing Theo wanted to do was tell Dae how to be. “It’s not about looking good; it’s about being approachable, and this guy is someone people would approach. That’s the goal, right?”

He bit his lip, nodding.

“You do look good, though.” Theo had never been shy about giving compliments. The other day, he told the bus driver that she had excellent defensive reflexes. So why was his chest screaming now? “Not that it matters,” he mumbled, even though he was not a mumbler, “but you do.”

Dae’s face, as usual, refused to let on that he might be pleased, but he did stand up straighter, his shoulders not quite so weighed down.

The progress was addictive, and Theo wanted more. “How do you feel about joining us for our nightly debriefs?” Dae’s newly confident stance crumbled. “I’m not saying you have to talk, but disappearing into your room every night is definitely sending a message. Step one towards having friends is actually showing up.”

Dae blinked at him through his damp hair. “What’s step two?”

Theo shrugged. “Alcohol?”

Caleb and Jason’s chatter preceded their entrance, and Dae tensed, like his body was fighting the impulse to flee. The boys shut right up when they saw him.

“I made him play dress-up,” Theo said. “You guys have any suggestions?”

Dae turned on him. “Wait. No.”

“Actually,” Jason said, heading towards his room, “my mom gave me a few shirts that were too small and I didn’t have the heart to tell her.”

“I don’t know what the goal is, but we can see what I’ve got!” Caleb’s excitement seemed to overwhelm Dae, pushing him back a step, so Theo followed Caleb alone. It was like entering another world overrun by delightfully weird two-dimensional creatures. Stickers were plastered everywhere: his desk, his disaster of a closet, on his guitar case propped against the wall, in picture frames, and on his books.

“I know I went overboard, but they give me a bit of joy, so…” His shrug was completely unbothered.

“No judgement here.”

He pointed at a twig-like creature with huge eyes that said, Actually this is a no-smoking area. “I bought this one at a comic shop, then found the website and it snowballed from there. It’s called Bob Is Not Your Neighbour. Here.” He handed Theo an alien-esque grump with the phrase Is there a right side of the bed? “The website is on the back if you want to check it out. And you can keep that one, it’s a duplicate. What do you think of this?” The knitted cardigan he held up had huge pockets and stretched out arms. “If Dae likes it, I can make another one.”

“You made this?”

“Yeah, man, knitting is like, crazy stress-relief. I’ll teach you if you want.” His grin was the exact opposite of Dae’s: wide, goofy, and eager. He tossed the sweater to Theo, then dug around his laundry pile. “Don’t forget the beanie!”