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“What’s up, guys?” Dad asks.
“We want to update you all on something,” Theo says. The four of them stare at us, but I stop feeling outnumbered when Theo grabs my hand. “We’re dating, and we’ve decided if you’re uncool with it, we’re going to live here in the trees.” The words tumble out of his mouth in such a rush that it sounds like one long word instead of eighteen separate words.
“No, we said we’d live on the pier,” I add.
Theo glances at me. “I’m trying to throw them off. I don’t want them finding us if they’re not cool with it.” He turns his attention back to our parents. “We cool?”
I don’t know how everyone else is feeling, but I don’t feel cool. I scratch at my palm with my free hand. I felt brave walking over here, and braver when Theo grabbed my hand, but my stomach is turning because we’ve reached the point of no return. I’m ready to reach for my earlobe when everyone breaks into smiles.
Russell laughs. “That’s it? I thought you were trying to leave the party to hang out elsewhere. Poor Wade looks miserable. The answer would’ve been no, but I’m more than fine with you two dating.”
Ellen hooks her arm inside Russell’s, patting his shoulder. “Theo, I thought you finally hacked your way into some network you have no business touching and forced Griffin to be your accomplice.”
“A likely scenario,” Theo says. “Fair.”
My mom does this weird shoulder bounce I’ve never seen her do before, and it might be the happiness of a mom seeing her son dating, but I’m not a fan. “I’m coming in for a hug.” She hugs both Theo and I at once. “I didn’t think this day would come for years. I’m so excited.”
Once my mom backs away to hug Theo’s parents, my dad hugs Theo.
“Good choice, Theo,” Dad says. Then he comes to me and, yup, another hug. “No more sleepovers, but I’m happy for you both.”
The hugging and awkward compliments about how cute we are finally come to an end. I feel lightheaded. Theo and I return to Wade, who’s already laughing.
“The hugging quota for sons coming out is maxed out,” Wade says.
“Seriously,” I say.
Wade stares at his phone. “I guess this is actually happening,” he says. “You came out to each other, made out, banged out, and now came out to your parents. You’re as out as it gets.”
“Thanks for the recap,” Theo says.
“I guess I accept this. Get together, guys. Picture time.” Wade stands and aims the phone at us.
Theo and I wrap our arms around each other’s waists. “Smile or no smile?”
“Smile this time,” I say.
All the important people in our lives know about us. Best friend, parents. Theo and I already talked about what comes next. We’re pretty sure we’ll go public online sometime this summer, but we’re not in as big a rush to do so—not anymore. My biggest priority right now is framing the last photo Theo and I took as best friends beside the first photo we’ve taken as boyfriends.
TODAY
Tuesday, November 21st, 2016
You died on an odd day, and we’re burying you on one, too.
It’s drizzling, but you’re tucked away inside your closed casket. The line to place flowers on you is moving, footprints sinking into the muddy grass of the cemetery where we’re going to be forced to leave you. I remembered to bring the white calla lilies this time.
We gather in a circle as you’re lowered into the ground.
I think about alternate universes as we lay you to rest in this one. There are billions, trillions, existing all at once: one where we never broke up and you stayed in New York, one out of reach from oceans that have it in for you, one where we both moved to California for school, one where you quit school and left animation and Jackson behind because you missed me so much, one where we met halfway somewhere because you wanted me not only to be your future but to help you find it, one where we’re the sole survivors of the zombie-pirate apocalypse . . . countless more where things are right, maybe with some touches of wrong. But in them all, you and I are more than history. I have to believe these universes exist; it’s the only way to manage the suffering here. Alternate versions of me are perfectly happy with alternate versions of you, because you’re alive. Alternate Theos all honor the promise you made never to die (not even at the hands of a zombie pirate).
But you’re being lowered into a hole. Your parents and Denise are freaking out. Jackson is crying, and his shoulders shift left to right, like he’s looking for someone—you—to cry on, until reality kicks his ass, too. Wade is standing with my parents, embraced by my mom. And I’m somehow on my knees. I was standing a minute ago, rocking back and forth, cryi
ng for my favorite person to bust out of the casket and hug me. I look up, and Jackson’s eyes find mine. For a second, it almost feels like we’re about to race into the hole to join you. Being buried alive has got to be better than whatever comes next.
This is the moment of the end. This is where we give up hope on reversing time, where we abandon finding a cure to death, where we live in this Theo-less universe, where we say goodbye.
But I can’t. It is goodbye for most, but not for me. Never me.
