Page 63 of Theoretically Straight

Theo is quiet as he picks at his cuticles.

“I know you’re scared,” I add, reaching across the table to take his hand into mine before he picks himself bloody. “But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I can’t pretend to understand all the things you’re going through, but I am a good listener. And if we can’t figure the problem together, there’s always the internet.”

That gets a chuckle out of him, and his grip on my hand tightens.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” he mumbles.

“And you don’t have to. Just go at your own pace, and know that you’ve got friends who care about you and want you to be happy.”

“Right. Thank you, Caleb.”

“Anytime. And maybe tell me the next time you think you’re being haunted? I at least want to get it on film to send to Hudson.”

He laughs–a real laugh this time–and things feel like they’re on their way back to normal between us. At least as normal as they can be.

The feeling of Caleb’s hand in mine isn’t like fire or electrocution this time. The initial touch was a spark, sure, but now it feels…natural. Like his hand is supposed to fit there.

I need to slow down. One life-altering discovery at a time, Theo.

I glance down at my watch. It’s still early, only just after 5:00 PM, and suddenly I’m restless to get out of here, go for a walk, go for a swim, go for a drive, anywhere with Caleb as long as I can hold his hand. I’ve never been more grateful for Wednesday night small group to have been canceled, even though it took our leader Brandon getting the flu to do it. “So, uh, do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Well,” Caleb’s eyes drift past me towards another end of the cafe. “Wren’s my ride. They were kind of hanging back in case things here went…south.”

“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound hurt. “Were you really worried?”

Caleb shrugs, still not meeting my gaze. “I mean, you never really know.”

Not for the first time, a surge of protectiveness overwhelms me, and I want nothing more than to protect Caleb from every jerk who has ever wanted to harm him. I gently rub tiny circles over Caleb’s knuckles with my thumb. “I really like you, Caleb. Even if–even if we could only be friends, I’d still never try to hurt you.”

Caleb glances up at me and smiles almost shyly. “Thanks. I like you, too.”

His smile makes my chest warm again. “So…do you think Wren would let me steal you for the rest of the day? We can do whatever you want. My treat!”

“Okay. I’d like that. I’ll text Wren.”

He lets go of my hand to write a text, and I try not to get too excited at the possibilities of what we could do next. I finish off my iced coffee and lean back into the booth. I know that the reality of the situation—whatever this is between Caleb and me—will set in at some point, but for now, I just want to roll with it and see where it takes me.

Besides, it’s Caleb. I like him. He likes me. There’s no need to overthink it. At least not today.

“Alright,” Caleb says as he puts his phone back into his pocket. “I’m all yours for the evening.”

More than anything, I wish I could think of something funny, charming, or even flirty to say, but instead, I feel the tips of my ears turning red, and I snort.Smooth. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

* * *

I’ve never considered myself a romantic by any stretch. I’ve only ever been in one relationship, and it was with a girl who believed we should never even be alone in the same room or we might sin. And this day out with Caleb isn’t a date—at least we haven’t called it that yet—so I shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything romantic, especially since we haven’t even established what we are yet. But despite this, I am inexplicably overwhelmed with the desire to romance Caleb’s socks off tonight. Nothing inappropriate, nothing too intense—just a taste of romance. Flirting. Talking. Holding hands. Maybe try the kissing thing again? God, I hope so.

However, I’m terrified I’m moving too quickly, and either Caleb’s going to be freaked out, or my brain is going to catch up to what my heart is doing, and suddenly God is going to start talking to me, and I’m nowhere near ready for all of that yet.

So, for now, Caleb and I drive to Sonic for some burgers, fries, and milkshakes and just sit in the car.

“Okay, so I want to know everything there is to know about Caleb Raynard,” I say between bites of fries.

“Okay, shoot. What do you want to know?”

“Favorite color?”

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