Page 115 of Theoretically Straight

I shove my hands into my pockets, gripping my keys tightly as I approach her. “Sienna.”

Her wavy burnt orange hair is tied back into a messy high ponytail, a few stray strands dangling in her face. Honestly, she looks rough— at least rougher than I’m used to seeing her. I hope she’s missed as much sleep over this as I have, but not for the same reasons. She stares at me for a few moments, searching my face. I genuinely have no idea how much of my resentment is in my expression as I stare back.

Sienna’s eyes dart over to Nathaniel for a moment, then back to me. “Can–can we talk for a minute before you go?”

“No, I need to get home,” I reply flatly. “I have a strict curfew now, you know.”

“Please?” She takes a step closer to the door. “I’m–I’m sure your parents would understand–”

“Oh, I’m sure they would ifyoutalked to them, right?”

Sienna recoils slightly. “That’s–that’s not what I–Theo, I really need to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone, Sienna,” I say as I unlock the car doors from the fob in my pocket.

The sound of the car unlocking makes Sienna jump, but she doesn’t move from her spot, blocking me from getting into the driver’s seat. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right, but I never meant to hurt you. I–I saw you and that guy up there, and it was–it waswrong, so I had to–I had to do something, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I panicked and told your parents, and I’m sorry.”

I feel my jaw clench, rage boiling beneath the surface, but I swallow it down. “Apology not accepted. Move, I need to go.”

“I didn’t know what they would do, but I had to–I had to dosomething,you know? I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me about–”

“Ididwant to talk to you!” I snap at her, my voice raising, but I keep my distance. “Maybe my parents didn’t mention it, but I had a fucking panic attack at the fair trying to chase you into a crowd of people! And I texted you like six times that night, begging you to talk to me before you went and did something stupid, but you ignored me. So don’t even try that shit with me.”

With each expletive, Sienna flinches. It makes me angrier. It makes me want to curse more. “I–I’m sorry, Theo. I really am. I didn’t know about–I didn’t know you had–” Her face flashes several emotions at once. Confusion. Guilt.Pity.

Unfortunately for her, none of those tricks work on me anymore. “Oh, so you ‘didn’t know’ about the panic attack? Or is it that you ‘didn’t know’ that large crowds trigger them? You know what else you probably ‘didn’t know?’ That one of theshittiest, mostfucked upthings you can do to a non-straight person is to out them. Especially to their conservative parents, but really, just outing, in general, is a really shitty move. But you did that anyway.”

She stares at me with tears welling up in her eyes. “I–I’m–”

“My dad won’t even look at me anymore, Sienna,” I continue, my voice breaking, but I don’t even care anymore. “Youdid that. I was going to tell my parents about Caleb in my own time on my own terms, but you took that from me! I’llneverget that back. My relationship with my parents will never be the same because of what you did. Do you understand?”

“Theo,” Nathaniel says quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “We need to go.”

I nod my understanding, but my eyes are glued to Sienna, unblinking, unrelenting. Tears are rolling down Sienna’s cheeks, and I know it’s wrong, but I’mglad. “So, no, Sienna. Apology not accepted. Please get out of my way.”

Sienna finally drops her gaze and steps aside, and I move swiftly past her to get in my car. She stands frozen in place as I shut the door behind me, start the engine, and back out of the parking spot.

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asks from beside me.

I take one last glance at Sienna, still a tear-stained statue with big, wet blue eyes, gripping tightly to her purse. “I will be eventually,” I reply as I put the car in drive and pull away.

* * *

Friday, October 26

On Thursday, I have to work after school. It’s the first time that work has actually been refreshing because it keeps me busy. I have full conversations with a few of my coworkers, putting on a happy face like everything is fine. Maybe they even believe that it is.

When I get home, I raid the fridge for a snack and a soda, then begin my ascent upstairs to finish my homework when I’m stopped by a quiet voice from the living room. “Theo?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly walk into the living room to investigate. Mom’s sitting on the couch, almost completely in the dark, her form only illuminated by a single lamp on the end table next to her. She has a family scrapbook open in her lap, head tilted down as she gazes intensely at a page.

“Mom?”

Mom looks up slowly, and I can tell now that her eyes are wet with tears. “Oh, I was making sure it was you. I thought I heard you get home, but I just…wanted to make sure.”

I nod hesitantly. “Yep. It’s me. Just got home from work. Gonna work on some homework and then go to bed.” I linger for another moment, an internal battle in my brain trying to decide whether I should continue sulking and ignoring her since I’m still mad at both parents for grounding me or asking her if she’s okay. Because clearly, she’s not okay, but…

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