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“You broke up with him,” Wade says.
“He wasn’t supposed to move on the next day with some me-knockoff,” I say.
“I thought it was two months,” Wade says. “And you guys aren’t clones.”
“We had a plan and he’s . . . I don’t care.” I leave through the side entrance, the cold biting at my face immediately. I hope Californian Jackson is having a rough time out here.
Wade follows me outside without his coat and jumps in my way. “I swear you’re going to regret this.”
“Get back inside.” I try to walk around him, but he’s persistent.
“You both swore to me you wouldn’t let your relationship get in the way of our squad, remember?”
I remember. I remember being that idiot. “Take it up with Theo.”
“Well, I’m still going to the dinner.” Wade shivers and shakes his head. “At least give him a call later, okay? I know you’ll both feel better if you at least talk.”
“Okay.” I can do that. “Seriously, get back inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We fist-bump and Wade finally lets me pass him, just in time so I can cry without him seeing me.
The puzzle portrait of Theo and me, the one Wade gave me two Christmases ago, sits in my lap. I’ll never understand how time can make a moment feel as close as yesterday and as far as years.
So I call Theo, remembering all the good things about Theo during our friendship and relationship, like how thoughtful he’s always been and how he’s always made me feel safe. If I focus on all the times he’s messed up since he met Jackson, I’ll just be an asshole, which he doesn’t need from me, especially not on his birthday.
“Hello?” He’s upset.
“Hey,” I say. “Happy birthday.” I want to ask how dinner is, but common sense shuts me up.
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it out tonight,” I say. I do regret not going—maybe Wade is psychic after all—but I also know it was the right move.
“Same,” Theo says. “You think you’ll be able to hang out tomorrow? I really want to see you.”
Maybe our relationship isn’t such a blip in his eyes after all. “Yeah, Wade and I can—” I shut up when I hear Jackson and Ellen laughing in the background. Bonding has never made me feel so nauseous before. “Hey, I have to go. But enjoy the rest of your night, okay?”
“Griff, wait, what happened?”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Theo. Happy birthday.”
“Talk to me, I—”
I hang up and throw the puzzle portrait across the room. It doesn’t seem right that it remains intact.
Tuesday, May 17th, 2016
“Maybe Theo died,” Wade tells me over the phone.
“That’s not funny,” I say.
A couple of hours ago, around ten my time, Theo uploaded a filtered photo on Instagram of himself with Jackson, both of them wearing shades and too much sunscreen on their foreheads, playing chess at the beach. It’s safe to assume the game was earlier, but I don’t know what else Theo has been doing with his day that he can’t call and wish me a happy birthday.
I know this isn’t some revenge nonsense left over from February when I didn’t go to his birthday dinner. We talked that one out; he gets that I wasn’t ready to meet Jackson.
“You still haven’t opened his present?” Wade asks.
“Nope.”
I’ve opened every other present today except the one the UPS guy dropped off this afternoon. It arrived right as I got home from school. My parents got me some new video games and an envelope of gift cards. Wade baked me a dozen cupcakes, and I haven’t tried any of them yet, though I lied and told Wade they’re great.
