Page 58 of Theoretically Straight

It’s Sunday night. Grace has already gone back to school for the week.

I bang my head on my steering wheel and tightly grip the handle. Shit. It’s probably for the best. I can’t handle telling her right now. I can’t handle telling anyone.

I make my way upstairs without incident from my parents—thank God. As soon as I hear my door click behind me, I collapse onto my bed, where not even an hour ago, Caleb and I were so happy, having so much fun, just hanging out. Playing games. Simply enjoying each other’s company.

Then there was the TikTok dance. Holding his hands in mine, our feet stumbling over each other until suddenly I was on the ground and Caleb was on top of me, our faces mere inches apart…

If I’m honest with myself, I knew what I wanted at that moment. I knew what we both wanted. But I stayed in denial. Denial was safe. Denial was predictable.

If nothing is happening, then everything is fine, right?

But I can’t deny the fact that every inch of me was on fire at that moment. What else could that mean? And when he–when Calebkissedme, I felt electrified, as if Caleb’s lips were a live wire and his current racked through me like nothing ever had before.

Kissing Sienna wasn’t like that. The first time I kissed Sienna was memorable, sure, but it wasn’t comparable to electrocution. It was more like having a pleasant fever. I felt hot and sweaty and clammy, so nervous I didn’t know what to do with myself, but once the kiss happened, it was such a relief. Every kiss after that felt chaste, polite, domestic. As if I was training for the rest of our lives together. Because, in a way, I kind of was. My parents always assumed I’d end up marrying Sienna, so I started believing it, too. It wasn’t until a few months into the relationship that I realized that Sienna and I were on completely different wavelengths most of the time, and even then, she was the one who ended it because we were “unequally yoked” or whatever spiritual mumbo-jumbo excuse she came up with. It was amicable, just embarrassing. But what we had for a while there was real, and I was definitely attracted to her.

So, what’s different about Caleb? Aside from the obvious.

I honestly have no idea.

I roll over, grab my phone, and groan as I see the numerous messages in the group chat as well as private texts from both Harrison and Elise. I have a feeling Elise already suspects that something is going on between Caleb and me, and I know Harrison is going to get impatient if I don’t come up with something for the Triple H video. I don’t feel like dealing with either of them tonight, so I quickly text them both a vague “I’m too tired, let’s talk tomorrow” text response and close my phone again.

For now, the only people who know what happened tonight are Caleb and me. And I, for one, would like to keep it that way. Denial has worked well enough so far; maybe it can protect me until Grace comes home this weekend.

That’s fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

As long as I can stay as far away from Caleb as physically possible.

* * *

Tuesday, September 19

Focusing on school is impossible.

It’s not hard to avoid Caleb. We only share one class, and he seems just as keen on avoiding me, so the few times we accidentally make eye contact are quickly smothered. It hurts more than I expected, though, knowing that whatever friendship we had started is probably history now. But I try not to dwell on it. I can’t afford to dwell on it.

It also doesn’t help that Harrison knows me too well and knows that something is up, but there’s absolutely no way in hell I’m going to talk about this at school. Or ever, if possible. I don’t think I’ll ever tell him what happened. I don’t think I can tell any of them. It’s too embarrassing. Too dangerous.

Plus, I don’t want them to think Caleb did something wrong. It’s not Caleb’s fault. It’s mine.

But it doesn’t matter because they’ll never know what happened.

I successfully avoid lunch on Monday and Tuesday by claiming I have a term paper that I had forgotten about.

Elise is the first to call me out, joining me for study hall on Tuesday afternoon.

“I know you’re avoiding us.”

“What are you talking about?”

Elise stares me down, her gaze unflinching. “Something happened that you’re not telling us. Why?”

I shrug and glance back down at my notebook. “Elise, I’m just trying to finish this–”

“I saw you staring at Caleb, but I haven’t seen you talk to him at all.”

I feel the tips of my ears start to burn, and I can only pray she doesn’t notice.

“Theo, what happened?”

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