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Auggie’s tone was guarded. “Hey.”
“Hi. Oh shoot. Did I call at a bad time? Are you in a meeting?”
“No.”
“Oh. Ok.”
In the hall, a boy shouted, “Dank!” drawing the vowel out, and a chorus of laughs followed. Theo’s skin felt tight, and sweat had started under his arms.
“Theo—”
“So, I’m really sorry about last night. And the afternoon. About the stunt with the windows—I mean, God, it’s not your fault we left one unlocked. All of it. I was totally out of line, and I feel awful about it. I know this isn’t an excuse, but I want to explain that I was in a really bad place.” He took a deep breath. “And I know I’m responsible for my actions, and I’m responsible for what I say and do, even if I’m—scared is way too small a word, so can I say fucking terrified?”
Some of the restraint in Auggie’s voice relaxed. “Not when you’re in school, you can’t.”
“I’m at lunch. Swearing is fully allowed at lunch. You should hear the other teachers let rip.” He took a breath. “Auggie, I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m—I’m so mad at myself. It’s just, things have been good, right? And then, last week, everything got turned on its head. And then—I mean, I kept thinking, ‘What if they’d broken in while Auggie was home alone? What if they’d broken in while we were asleep? What if Lana had been there?’ I couldn’t turn it off.” Sweat dampened the fabric of Theo’s button-down, and he knuckled his forehead. “Not trying to make excuses, I swear. I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re not trying to make excuses, Theo.”
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
“You don’t have to make anything up to me. You apologized; I forgive you. I know yesterday was…a lot. For all of us.”
“I’m not happy with how I acted.”
“Well, I’m not thrilled about it either, but you don’t need to keep beating yourself up. You got grumpy, stomped around, and checked the locks. I think I can survive an episode of that. You should try yelling; Fer’s got yelling down to an art.”
For a moment, Theo had to squeeze his eyes shut. Because he heard it in Auggie’s voice: the work he was doing, patching things over, making sure everything was ok again. And because he knew last night had been so much worse than stomping and grumbling. And because he could remember—to a degree, anyway—the way he had felt drunk and blind, his world contracted to the tunnel of his fear and anger, like someone else was behind the wheel and steering him headfirst toward disaster, and Theo couldn’t stop it.
But that was wrong. That was false. He could stop it. He hadn’t; that was what made it worse.
“Knock it off,” Auggie said. “I can hear you beating yourself up all the way over here.”
“Sorry,” Theo said, surprised by the thickness of his voice.
“Why don’t you leave early? Take a half day. You didn’t sleep. I know because I didn’t sleep; I heard you moving around all night.”
“Oh God.”
“You have very sticky skin apparently. Or something is seriously wrong with that sofa.”
In spite of himself, Theo laughed.
“Come on,” Auggie said. “I know it’s the second day of school, but they’ll understand.”
“I’ll stick it out. But I appreciate it.”
The next question waited in the air between them, but Theo couldn’t bring himself to ask it.
Maybe Auggie heard it, though, or a version of it because he said, “We’ve gotten through bad things before. We’ll get through this.”
It was an opening—all the opening Theo needed, anyway. “Someone was in our house, Auggie.” His throat tightened. “In our fucking house.”
Auggie didn’t say anything. In the hallway, the boys were back, accompanied now by the sound of a ball bouncing against the linoleum.
