Page 13 of Theoretically Straight

Freddy’s feigned demeanor evaporates as he scrunches his nose. “Shit. I was so close.”

“Yeah, for a second, I thought you cared about me.”

“Idocare about you, asshole,” Freddy argues, punctuating his sentence with an elbow to my ribs.

Wren grabs another slice of their pizza, inspecting it. “Come on, Freddy. It’s a tour of a cool old church. What’s the worst thing that could happen? You get a splinter on an old pew?”

Freddy points a finger at them. “First of all, splinters are the leading cause of finger amputations, and secondly, it’s achurch.What if I get possessed by the vengeful spirit of a preacher who squeezes all the gay out of me, then tries to make me convert people? I mean, can you imagine me waking up one day and being like, ‘I must make the gays repent.’”

Wren and I snicker at Freddy’s preacher imitation. Honestly, it sounds just like the crazy pastors that show up on my TikTok from time to time. Their videos are usually stitched with creators tearing down their flawed ideology, but not always. Sometimes, it’s just the hate coming right at you through the screen, and it’s enough to make you want to throw up.

My family isn’t involved with the church in any capacity, so I don’t really understand where all the vitriol comes from. Mom grew up going to a huge Baptist church a town over, but once she moved away for college, she hasn’t set foot in a church since. She doesn’t really talk about it, but when the topic arises, she’s quick to steer the conversation in another direction.

Wren’s elbows rest on the edge of the table as she leans forward. “Okay, I’m actually with Freddy on this one, Caleb. That sounds like an absolute nightmare. What are the odds of one of us getting hijacked by brother Billy, the queer-bashing, Lord-loving, crucifix-carrying bible thumper who just wants to ‘save’ us heathen children?”

“But think about the positives!” I exclaim, drawing the attention of the table next to us. “We’d be able to get on triple H, no problem! Hell, we could make our own channel, something like ‘Our Friend, the Ghost Bigot.’ So, let’s make a pact right here and now. If any of us get possessed by an evangelical ghost, the other two have permission to take full monetary advantage of them.” I hold out both pinky fingers to them.

Wren and Freddy lock their fingers with mine.

“Agreed.”

“One hundred percent.”

The three of us laugh through the absurdity, returning our pizza and sodas and falling into the comfortable rhythm of our trio.

“Theo! Over here!”

A girl with dark, wavy hair pops up over the back of Wren’s side of the booth, her furrowed brow and sneering frown rather intimidating. She looks familiar–which isn’t saying much. Specter High is the only public high school in town, so I’m sure I’ve seen her around.

My eyes follow her gaze to the opposite side of the restaurant and the boy in the black band t-shirt and jeans. He gives the girl a slight wave, then shuffles awkwardly through the busy dining room. For some reason, I keep watching him as he squeezes between the tight tables, apologizing under his breath as he brushes against the patrons. There’s something… cute about the way he moves like he’s tiptoeing through the world, every movement measured. Deliberate. He reaches the booth with the girl and slides in, disappearing from my sight.

“Who are you looking at?” Wren asks, piling napkins on their tray till they’ve got a little pizza-stained mountain.

“Nobody,” I say, shaking my head. “I just thought I recognized someone.”

“Already moving on from the Logan heartbreak?” Freddy inquires, leaning into my shoulder again to try and get a glimpse.

I push him back into place. “No, I think it’s just a guy from English Lit class.”

“A cute guy from your English Lit class?”

“You really are like a dog with a bone, aren’t you?”

Freddy shrugs. “Can’t turn it off.”

“I think his name is Theo,” I say, careful to lower my voice since he’s only one booth over. Then again, I don’t think they’re going to hear us over the noise of the dining room. The rest of Specter High’s soccer team has shown up at this point, and they’re not as demure as Freddy about their loss as they shout and launch packs of red pepper flakes at each other across the restaurant.

Boys can be so exhausting sometimes.

Wren leans forward, lowering their voice as well, so it feels like we’re having this secret conversation. “Is it Theo Briggs? I had a Biology lab with him last year. He was my partner for all the dissections. He’s nice. A little quiet, but there’s not much to say when you’re hacking up soggy animal carcasses in the name of science.”

“Yuck,” I say, pushing my last slice of pizza away. “Don’t remind me. The smell of formaldehyde will haunt me for the rest of my life. If I didn’t have Freddy as my partner, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

Freddy grabs the rejected pizza from my plate, unbothered. “Happy to help. So, do you think this guy is a viable option for our boy, Wren?”

Wren hesitates, biting their bottom lip.

“You don’t have to answer that,” I say, still worried Theo or his friends will hear us. “It’s not like I’m actually interested. Besides, I’m thinking I should take Freddy’s advice and only pursue guys I know one hundred percent are into other guys.”

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