Page 26 of Theoretically Straight

Harrison

Yeah but still you were weird last night, we need to get to the bottom of this.

Oliver

ooooOOOOOoooooOOOOOO

Theo

Harry why wouldn’t I have mentioned that I saw something ghostly? that’s kind of my whole thing??

Oliver

spoooooooooooky

Elise

Oliver read the room, ffs

Harrison

I’m coming over after church.

Oliver

ooooooo theo’s in trouble

can I come too actually I don’t wanna be bored at home all day

Ugh, I don’t feel like arguing with Harrison about this. During the entire conversation, I keep getting notification after notification from TikTok. More shares, more comments, more likes. This is crazy! Hell, Hudson might even see the TikTok if it gets enough engagement.

Caleb is going to lose his mind!

I’m taken aback as the thought crosses my mind. It’s the first time I’ve thought about Caleb since last night, and there’s a strange fluttering in my stomach at the thought of Caleb’s brown eyes lighting up at the news that we might actually have something to show Hudson someday.

Wait…Caleb might have seen something!I need to talk to him. I need to show him the video and ask him what he saw. He wasn’t in the room with me when I was filming, but maybe he saw something in the hallway or even the one lingering in the doorway. Maybe that’s why he ran away so fast after we came outside—maybe he was freaked out! Maybe he was hesitant to tell me, given the conversation we had about religion, too.Of course!

My mind races as the reality sets in. If there was a ghostly presence that only my phone camera was able to pick up, that might explain why I felt so weird last night—why I still feel weird even now. An overwhelming sense of relief starts to wash over me. Maybe I’m not going crazy after all. Maybe I can make a friend like a normal person after all—this whole crisis has simply been a result of a paranormal experience.

Even so, I still think it might be a good idea to test my theory about it and plan a time to hang out with Caleb. You know, just in case. I need to make sure that I’m capable of making a friend in a normal capacity and that I’m not completely insane.

But how do I get in touch with him? I didn't get his number. I don’t even know his last name or what grade he’s in.

It's fine, I'll see him on Monday. We go to the same school—we might even share a class. How hard would it be to just find him in the hallways? Maybe at lunch?

Whatever, that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, it’s time to get up and start the day. Sunday. Maybe it won’t be such a bad day after all.

As I make my way downstairs for breakfast, I can already hear rustling and movement in the kitchen, but quickly notice the distinct lack of yelling. This could mean one of two things: either the fight has already happened and Grace has locked herself in her room, or Grace has decided not to venture downstairs until after my parents have already left for church.

There’s only one way to find out. I take a deep breath and enter the kitchen.

My mom is humming softly to herself by the kitchen sink, slicing what appear to be strawberries. She’s still wearing her housecoat over her pajamas, so she must have only just woken up. My dad is seated at the head of the kitchen table with a hardcover book lying open beside his plate of scrambled eggs, reading glasses sitting low on his nose. He’s in a white t-shirt and shorts, indicating that he, too, only just woke up. I warily take a few steps forward, clearing my throat to make my presence known.

“Well, look who it is!” Mom says cheerfully as she turns to me. “Good morning,aroha.”

I smile at her. “Morning, Mom.” She’s clearly in a good mood if she’s calling mearoha. It’s the Maori word for “love” or “darling”. Sometimes it makes me sad that Mom doesn’t even act Maori most of the time. When her parents immigrated to the States before she was even born, they were determined to integrate into American society and raise their kids to be American first, Maori second. She doesn’t talk about it much, but every now and then, little words and phrases leak through, and I think it’s really cool.

“Morning, Theo,” Dad mumbles, glancing up from his book with a polite nod. “Did we wake you up?”

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