Page 105 of Theoretically Straight

Maybe my parents didn’t talk about it in the car on the way home. Maybe Sienna didn’t tell them after all. Maybe she told someone else. Chase, maybe? Brandon?

“You okay, man?” Nathaniel asks again, quieter this time. “Is this another panic attack?”

I shake my head, pulling myself up as casually as possible. “No, sorry, just…got a weird text.” Which isn’t a lie. It is a weird text. Cryptic. Ominous. Terrifying.

Nathaniel eyes me suspiciously, then continues past me into the kitchen. I brace myself, putting on a brave face as I follow behind him to join my parents and Grace already seated at the table.

Grace. Grace is still here. I’m suddenly overcome with relief. No matter what, Grace is here, and she’ll have my back for this.

Everything’s going to be okay.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mom says as I enter the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I reply. “Better.”

She steps closer and runs her fingers through my hair. I can only hope there’s no remnant of Caleb on me. Shit. She has such a sharp eye. I forgot to check my shirt for any loose copper hair.

“Did you get some sleep?” she asks, touching my forehead, even though I never claimed to have a fever.

I nod, smiling at her as genuinely as possible. “It was just a panic attack, Mom. I just underestimated how big the crowds would get at the fair. I’m good now.”

“We talked to Sienna today,” Dad says out of nowhere. His voice almost startles me because I forgot he was even in the room. I turn to look at him. He looks…off. A fresh wave of nausea washes over me.

“Oh yeah?” I say, my voice cracking slightly.

Dad’s eyes meet mine. There’s something in his expression that scares me, but I can’t let him know that. “Yeah, she said she saw you at the Pumpkin Fair last night.”

Grace and I make eye contact. She knows the whole story, so I imagine alarm bells are ringing in her head, too.

I look back at Dad. “Yeah, I saw her from a distance, but she didn’t stick around to talk.”

“Hm,” is all Dad says in response before returning to his burger. I glance at my fast-food bag at my seat and realize I’ve never been less hungry in my life.

I look back at Grace, who subtly shrugs and sips her soda.

A false alarm, maybe?

“Are you going to sit and eat, hon’?” Mom asks, watching me with a raised eyebrow.

I quickly nod and sit down. “Oh, yeah,” I laugh, but it comes out nervously. “Sorry. Still tired.”

As I sit, Grace stands up, gathering the remnants of her lunch and throwing it away. “Thanks again for lunch. Unfortunately, I’ve got to get to work,” she says, looking directly at me.

My stomach drops, and my blood turns to ice.No, no, no, no–

“Have a good day, sweetheart,” Mom says, her voice far too flat.

“I’ll try,” Grace replies, still watching me but with an apology in her eyes. “Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

Don’t leave me alone with them, please, please, please–

“Drive safe, Grace,” Dad calls out as Grace heads to the front door.

“Love you, bye!”

“Love you, bye,” everyone at the table says in unison.

The front door closes, and I feel like I might throw up.

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