Page 47 of Theoretically Straight

Oliver

see, harry gets it

Harrison

You’re gonna have to do better than that, Theo.

Elise

y’all are being stupid. I support you, Theo.

Theo

ffs guys

Caleb and I hit it off at saint catherine’s and we’ve been texting ever since, okay? it’s not that big of a deal, isn’t that how people make friends?

Harrison

Theo, this whole thing is weird, so I’m going to be weird about it until you tell me the truth.

Theo

the truth is I think Caleb’s cool and I think you guys will think he’s cool too

idk man maybe I’m growing as a person? growing out of my weird social awkwardness? is that okay with you?

Oliver

o_o

Harrison

Whatever you say, dude.

I close the chat with a frustrated huff. This is so stupid.

All I want is to be friends with Caleb and for my friends to be friends with Caleb. Why does it have to be complicated?

This is why I don’t make new friends.

Sunday, September 17

My dreams are plagued by killer nuns–for obvious reasons–but also with glimpses of Theo around every corner. Every time I escape a deranged Sister from Hell, he’s there, with that same look of panic I saw in his eyes last night. And, honestly, Theo constantly running away from me freaks me out far more than the murderous hell-spawned clergy.

When I finally wake up–an hour before my alarm is even set–I can’t seem to shake the squeezing sensation in my chest, so I decide to head downstairs to see if a bowl of cereal can solve anything.

Dad sits at the breakfast table, his tablet propped up against a stack of files–no doubt left by Lola–and he looks up from his oatmeal to greet me.

“Good morning, Cal. Or should I say the alien inhabiting my son’s body. There’s absolutely no way he’d be up this early on a Sunday.”

“It’s me, unfortunately,” I say through a yawn. Opening the fridge, the cold does little to wake me up. I grab the almond milk, setting it on the counter. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“I hate it when that happens. Sorry, kiddo.”

The pantry door opens with a creak, and I select my cereal from the top shelf. “It happens. Are you home today?”

Dad shakes his head, tapping his tablet to check the time. “I’ve got to head out in a few minutes. The director just ordered another set of reshoots, so we’ll be on this project a while longer. Which isn’t all bad since I get to come home at night and see you guys.”

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