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“Leon—” For the first time, embarrassment mingled with the bravado in Keelan’s voice. It startled Theo, a reminder that the teen, no matter how cool and confident he played it, was still a child in many ways, and he was uncovering layers of his sex life to total strangers. “I mean, it’s sex. He’s fun because he’s really into it, and that’s, you know, hot. But it’s not like he’s the only one.”
“And having him there, in your house, that might have cramped your style,” Auggie said.
Keelan shrugged, but he gave a half-nod.
“How’d Leon take it?” Theo asked.
“He shot his mouth off,” Keelan said. “He told me he was going to tell everybody about us. Fine, I didn’t care; I told him what I told you. Then he came up to me at school. He asked me again, right there in the hall. I mean, Jesus, like he had no brains. I said no again, and he told me again he was going to tell everybody. I told him to get lost. I mean, I told him to fuck off. And then he walked right up to me and my friends at lunch, and—” He cut off, shoulders hunching, and yanked ferociously at the tape.
“When was this?”
“May. Pretty much the end of the school year. And then that crazy girl came to school with a gun, you know, and nobody cared about a fight. I swear to God, they just forgot about it.”
That was easy for Theo to believe; the school shooting in May—which had ended, thank God, without anyone dead—had disrupted everything. Coming back had been hard enough, even after three months. He couldn’t imagine anyone had wanted to worry about a run-of-the-mill fight in the commons.
“What about your parents?” Emery asked.
Keelan sank lower in the chair. “What about them?”
“What do they think of Leon? What did they think about the fight? What did you tell them when Principal Wieberdink called them?”
“They know we’re friends,” Keelan said. “I told them he wanted to move in and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Mom didn’t want him living there anyway.”
“They don’t know about the sexual component to your relationship,” Theo said.
Keelan looked up, and he met Theo’s gaze again. “It’s none of their business.”
Theo thought about that, about how much was wrapped in that statement—not the least part being that somehow, Keelan had conducted years of sexual encounters at home without his parents knowing. Or perhaps, Theo corrected, without them acknowledging that they knew.
“Did you see Leon after the fight?” Auggie asked.
Keelan hesitated. Then he nodded.
“When?”
“Over the summer. He texted me.”
“When in the summer?”
“I don’t know. I can check on my phone.”
“Your best guess,” Emery said drily.
Keelan drew his phone slowly from the bag, as though expecting a trap. “June 20. It was a Saturday.”
“And?”
“He wanted to hook up. Well, he said he wanted to apologize, but I knew what he meant.” Keelan stopped. Something crossed his face, and for a moment, the child appeared from under that mask of confidence again. Then he was the cool hockey bro again, the words falling out of his mouth like he couldn’t care less. “I didn’t even reply; I didn’t want to deal with him again. But he kept texting, and you don’t know Leon, do you?”
Theo and Auggie shook their heads.
“He’s funny. He can be, I mean. And he kind of talked me into it. He had his own place, he said. I could come over; we didn’t have to go to my house. That was new. I thought maybe he was for real.”
“And you went?” Emery asked.
A hint of color rose under Keelan’s deep tan. “Yeah.”
Emery’s sound of disgust carried through the utility room.
