Page 7 of Theoretically Straight

Freddy’s face blanches, but Wren’s toothy grin is a good sign.

“I’m totally down,” they say, checking their phone. “And I’m free.”

“I have a game that day,” Freddy says, his gaze falling down to his hands on the edge of the table.

“Yeah, at like two o’clock,” I remind him. “And it’s a home game. Come on, Freddy. We’ll come to cheer you on, and then we can go get pizza after the game before we get scared out of our minds at an old catholic church. How does that sound?”

Freddy lets out a sigh. “Sounds like I’m running low on excuses.”

“At least there won’t be any pointless tiddies,” Wren offers, giggling at the word.

Freddy slides to the opposite end of the bench. “Okay, that does it. The next person who says tiddies buys the pizza on Saturday.”

Wren gives me a sly look, then turns back to Freddy. “Well, don’t get your tiddies in a twist.”

Freddy pushes back from the table, fighting a smile. “Oh my god, I’m so done with you both. And Wren, I’m ordering an extra-large just for that little spectacle.”

Wren shrugs, still giggling to themself. “Worth it.”

* * *

The bus runs late, so it’s almost five by the time I get home. Usually, I hitch a ride with Wren–I’m not exactly what you’d call a “good” driver, so I still don’t have my license–but they had a therapy session after school. Mom’s at the kitchen table with Lola when I walk in, the two looking up at me from what I can only assume is a serious case-related conversation.

Lola’s my sister, three years my senior, and is a sophomore at Georgia State University getting her pre-law undergrad. She’s been living at home, but you wouldn’t know it with the amount of time that she spends between school and her internship at Mom’s office. Her bedroom is practically a ghost town these days.

“Hey, Cal.” Lola waves from the table, her curly hair tied back off her face. Mom always said the two of us could be twins, but I honestly don’t see that much of a similarity between us. Sure, we’ve got the same coppery hair color, and our noses both have a slight upward slant. And yes, we both burn like unattended bacon in direct sunlight, but that’s Mom, through and through. Dad somehow managed to contribute a zero-sum to our complexions and jokes to this day that he was just an innocent bystander to Mom’s pregnancies.

Mom looks up from the stack of paperwork on the table and then checks her watch. “Was the bus late again? I’m sorry, honey. You could have called!”

“It’s fine,” I say, grabbing a pitcher of tea from the fridge and pouring myself a glass. “It’s just karma for my piss-poor driving record. Plus, I got to catch up on my geometry homework.”

“That’s my boy.” Mom nods, her attention falling back to the workload. “Lola, I’ve got to run back to the office for a bit. Can you go over the Henderson file and let me know just how many times Mrs. Henderson called the cops over the last year? That should be a good starting point.”

“You got it,” Lola replies, grabbing a thick manilla folder from the stack on the table before Mom starts shoveling the rest of them into her bag.

“Your dad’s on set late tonight, so you guys just call me if you need anything. Oh, and put in our normal order at Egg Rollz when you get hungry, okay? I should hopefully get back before my food congeals.”

“Got it,” I agree, sliding onto the bench across from Lola.

Mom kisses the top of my head and then heads out the door to the garage. Lola sighs, slumping down in her seat and shoving the folder away.

“This internship has convinced me to never get married. Like, ever.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse than you can imagine. Straight people are vicious, my dude. I can’t spill too many details, obviously, but let’s just say if I had to choose between mediating divorce proceedings and shoving a nest of angry hornets up my ass, it would be the latter.”

“Then why are you working with Mom? She literally only works divorce cases.”

Lola folds her arms on the table, resting her chin on top. “It’s just a foot-in-the-door situation. I’ll pay my dues, get my credits, get my dream job working for the EPA, and never touch another divorce case as long as I live.”

I reach across the table to pat her arm. “Think of all the trees you’ll save. You’ll be one of the reasons we’ll still have oxygen in a hundred years.”

“Yeah, or at least I’ll get to stick it to an oil baron. God, it’ll be so satisfying.” She leans back in her seat, cracking her knuckles. “But I’ve still got a billion credit hours to go, so I should probably keep focused on the here and now. What’s going on with you, little bro? You seem down-in-the-dumps.”

Here I was, thinking I was doing a passable job at hiding my teen angst. Should have known Lola would be able to see through me. She’s got older-sibling x-ray vision.

“I realized that a boy I thought was flirting with me at school was really just existing near me while not actively trying to assault me. A common mistake.”

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