Page 79 of Theoretically Straight

Once I’ve removed the remnants of Theo’s makeup and Wren has fixed the damage we did to their work, Wren sets up the backdrop, and Theo puts on the top hat, completing the illusion. Now it’s time for the big reveal.

Theo takes a deep breath in, stepping in front of the mirror.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, leaning in close and poking at his cheek. “This is insane, Wren. Like, I can’t even recognize myself.”

“Thanks. It’s not my best work, but it’s worlds away from the last time I did this look. Okay, now I’m just going to take a couple of shots for the portfolio,” Wren says, pulling out their phone. “You stand over there, and I’ll let you know when to turn.”

They take a few shots from each angle. Theo asks for me to take a picture of him on my phone, too, so I can send it to him, so I snap a couple. How weird that these will be the first pictures I’ve taken of him. Maybe I should make it his contact picture.

After the photo shoot, Wren turns their attention back to Freddy and finishes up his moldy features while Theo takes one last look in the mirror before grabbing the pack of makeup remover wipes. A pile quickly forms on the table in front of him, each cloth smeared with gray smudges.

“How do I look?” he asks, turning to me.

“Like you missed a few spots,” I say through a laugh. I grab a fresh wipe. “Close your eyes.”

Theo does as I ask, and I set to work removing the last remnants of the Babadook from his face. I place my other hand under his chin, and he shudders.

“You okay?” I ask, pulling the wipe away.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. Cold chill.”

“Okay, you should be all good.” I bundle up the wipes, tossing them into the trash can under the desk. “Do you want me to take the polish off your nails?”

Theo looks down at them, hesitating. “Um, no. I think I'll keep it on.”

I take his hand in mine. “You sure?”

He nods, squeezing my hand. “Yeah. I want to try it out.”

I check my phone. “It’s getting late,” I say, though there’s still an hour before Theo has to be home. I want a little more time alone with him, so I add, “We should probably head out soon.”

“Lame,” Freddy says from the chair, his moldy complexion really taking shape. “You’re not going to see my ultimate form.”

“Send me a picture,” I reply, already pulling Theo towards the stairs.

“Thanks for everything, Wren,” Theo says, stumbling over his own feet as I pull him. “I had a lot of fun.”

Wren doesn’t even look up from their work. “Anytime, Theo.”

Theo and I head up the stairs and out the front door to where Eileen awaits.

I can’t stop glancing at my black fingernails on the steering wheel as I drive to Caleb’s house, rubbing the smooth surfaces of my nails against my fingertips at every opportunity. Of course, this is only a concern with my left hand. My right hand is currently in Caleb’s hand on the console, our fingers interlaced, my thumb tracing little circles across his warm skin.

It still hasn’t gotten old.

“I’m slightly concerned about going to work tomorrow with these,” I mutter. “I don’t think my supervisor will care, but I’m more worried that a grumpy old customer might say something.”

“Do you have nail polish remover?” Caleb asks, that sweet, concerned tone in his voice.

“I’m sure Grace does, but I’m going to just see what happens. I mean, I’m a freaking busboy. Why should it matter if the kid who’s clearing tables and cleaning up after customers has a little paint on their nails? I’ve had way worse materials splattered on my uniform after a busy day before.”

“Yikes, I don’t want to know,” Caleb says with a grimace, and I laugh.

As soon as I put my car in park in Caleb’s driveway, I resist the urge to immediately lunge for his face this time, opting to be a little more polite about it. I turn to him with a smile. “Is it okay if I–”

Before I can even get the question out, Caleb’s lips are already on mine, and I melt into the kiss. It’s soft and gentle at first, but his lips part against mine, and my chest ignites. His hand is wrapped around the back of my neck, and I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. God, his curls are so soft. The temptation to bury my face in them surfaces for a ridiculous second, and I almost laugh at the absurdity of it.

When our lips finally separate, I lean my forehead against his. “I had a lot of fun today,” I say softly.

---