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Theo closed his eyes. It took him a moment to clear the lump from his throat and say, “It’s not your fault. You can say whatever you want; I shouldn’t lose my temper like that.”
“You were upset,” Auggie said. “It’s ok.”
“I was upset,” Theo said like he was reading something back. His part in this. His lines.
Auggie laughed softly, and then his fingers were at Theo’s forehead, brushing back a few sweat-damp strands. “Knock it off in there, you two.”
He ran his fingers through the flow of Theo’s hair, the movement slow and careful. Theo smiled in spite of himself, eyes still closed. The aches of two nights’ bad sleep, the pounding at the back of his head, the fear and then the bitter backwash after the adrenaline was gone. He realized, with a kind of distant surprise, two things: he had climbed out of that dark pit (been dragged out by Auggie was, maybe, a better way to put it); and he was about to fall asleep.
“You two?”
“My Theo,” Auggie said, “and the one who comes around to beat up on him sometimes.”
Theo smiled again, helpless even at the pain of it.
“Don’t make me come in there,” Auggie said.
“Oh my God,” Theo murmured. He forced his eyes open, blinked a few times to clear them, and found Auggie.
He never stopped being amazed. Sometimes the amazement was further back, hidden by day-to-day things. But always, forever, the amazement was there: Auggie helping Lana put together the Fashionista Fillies wardrobe; Auggie taking Lana down to the creek to catch frogs while Theo pretended to read on the deck and listened to the two of them laughing; Auggie staggering out of bed and into a pair of joggers, sleep-deprived the week Lana had the flu, taking every night shift so Theo could work.
“What?” Auggie said.
He was beautiful, too. That was part of the amazement; Theo would have been lying if he tried to deny it. He had lied, for a long time, about the effect Auggie had on him. Lied to himself most of all because it had been so frightening. To feel these things, to feel them so strongly, when grief had been a black snow wintering over arousal and desire. The crew cut, the dark brown eyes, the body that had taken on a man’s muscle, every line sharp because he was twenty-five and because he worked harder than anyone Theo knew and because, in a weird way, it was still part of who he was, even if Auggie had convinced himself he’d let that part go.
“What?” Auggie asked again, prodding at Theo’s grin with one finger.
“I’m remembering the time you put both legs through one leg of your joggers.”
Auggie burst out laughing, his face coming alive. “Oh my God, I was so tired.”
“Auggie, I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Those eyes found Theo, held him. “It’s ok, I promise. I’m not made of glass. And you didn’t even yell at me or anything.”
Theo rolled his eyes.
“Compared, say, to the time Lana and I brought the sensory table inside.”
“It wasn’t the bringing it inside part. It was the sand in our new carpet part.”
“I remember hearing something about that.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get sand out of carpet?”
Auggie’s smile had gotten bigger. “When was the last time you ate?”
Theo shrugged. “We had first lunch today.”
“So, ten-thirty? They should be legally required to call that breakfast. It’s been, like, eight hours since you’ve eaten something, and I know you haven’t slept.” He paused, his fingers carding Theo’s hair again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t know.”
“Like a poet,” Auggie murmured.
Theo grinned in spite of himself. “I don’t know, Auggie. I don’t know why it hit me so hard. I mean, we’ve seen worse. But—” He almost saidlately. He almost said,But lately, I can’t seem to handle anything. What he said was, “I don’t know.”
Auggie was quiet as he combed Theo’s hair. “You’re such a kind person. You’re so protective. You want everyone to be safe and cared for.”
