Page 83 of Theoretically Straight

I laugh genuinely this time. “All right, do we actually want to sit and watch this movie or do something else?”

“Are you kidding?” Elise says incredulously. “How could we start a movie with Taika Waititi, the love of my life, and then not watch it?”

“Touche,” I reply as I head to my usual recliner in the middle row. I gaze up at the screen just in time to see Taika’s character, Viago, smiling into the camera. “You know, I’m starting to think maybe my admiration for him is a little more than just appreciation for his work.”

“Get in line,” Elise snaps. “Taika’s my hall pass. Get your own.”

“Your what?”

Harrison groans. “God.”

“A hall pass is the one celebrity you’re allowed to leave your partner for if an opportunity ever presents itself,” Elise explains cheerfully.

“Ouch,” I say as I look at Harrison.

“Nah, it’s cool. It’s a respectable choice,” Harrison concedes. “Mine is Tessa Thompson.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, Tessa’s also a fine choice.”

“Oliver, who’s yours?” Elise asks.

Oliver has been abnormally quiet so far, but it’s understandable, given the conversation we just ended. He snorts. “Given that I don’t have a partner, do I even need a pass?”

Harrison laughs. “I guess not?”

“Nice. Open season for me.”

We all laugh together. The knot in my stomach finally loosens, and as the movie plays, I relax more and more in my seat. It’s not long before I pull out my phone and text Caleb about how it went with Elise and Oliver, ask him who his hall pass would be—Logan Lerman, apparently—and babble on about the silly little vampire movie that makes me and my friends so happy even though we’ve watched it a million times.

Friday, October 20

It’s kind of scary how quickly someone can go from being a perfect stranger to the favorite part of your day. It’s been a month to the day that Theo and I decided to give whatever this is between us a shot, and already, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without seeing him nearly every day.

And everythingfeelsdifferent. Even small things, like riding to school in the morning, have taken on an entirely new excitement because I get to spend twelve minutes in the car, holding hands with the boy that I may or may not be head-over-heels about. We’ve set up a bit of a routine, Theo and I. He’ll pick me up every morning for school, and we spend the ride trading the aux cord back and forth, playing music for each other. Then I have to go a whole four hours without seeing him again, which is fine but definitely isn’t my first choice, till we get to lunch when I can sit beside him, knocking my knee into his the entire time. Then, in English Literature, I spend the entire class pretending to listen to Mrs. Hyung drone on about Shakespeare while I try not to stare at Theo from across the room. And after school, as long as Theo doesn’t have a shift at Cathy’s, we’ll rotate between Wren’s house and mine, hanging out and doing homework till Theo has to leave for family dinner, and I have to settle for texting him the rest of the night.

Our friend groups have even started to slowly meld together on the weekends–a master plan on my and Theo’s part–with movie nights and trips to Pizza Palooza. Theo was even nice enough to let me drag him to one of Freddy’s soccer matches, which earned him a lot of bonus points with Freddy.

And even though we’re super careful not to be too lovey-dovey in public, Theo always finds a way to be touching me whenever possible. Whether it’s hooking his pinky finger around mine as we sit in the dark theater, keeping his knee pressed against mine in the bleachers at the soccer match, or even playing footsie with me across the booth at Pizza Palooza–which did lead to a very funny moment when he got Oliver’s foot instead–it seems like he can’t help himself. Which I’m totally fine with.

But in those moments when it’s just the two of us, and those prying eyes he fears are miles away from his mind, he’ll wrap his fingers in my hair and run his hand across my chest as he kisses me over and over, and it honestly gets very difficult to think about anything but him and that moment, and what it would feel like to trace my fingertips along every inch of his body–

“Caleb! Theo’s here!”

Mom’s voice snaps me out of my early morning daydream. I close my laptop, abandoning whatever attempt I was making at a term paper and grabbing my backpack.

Downstairs, Mom is filling her thermos with coffee, and it looks like Lola has already left for her morning classes. Dad is probably still asleep, trying to recover from his late nights on set.

“Is this a regular thing now?” Mom asks, nodding her head in the direction of the front door and Theo’s parked car.

“Seems to be,” I answer, keeping it vague. Lola definitely knows what’s going on between me and Theo, but I haven’t decided to bring Mom and Dad in yet. It just feels like I’m going to jinx it somehow.

“Theo’s very kind,” she continues, shaking a pack of sweetener before tearing it open and dumping it into her coffee. “To drive you every day, I mean.”

“Mhm.” I stick my head in the fridge, mostly because I don’t want to have this conversation right now, but also because I’m running late, and I won’t have time to toast a waffle. I grab a yogurt cup and shut the door to find Mom staring at me. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” she replies, breaking eye contact and screwing the lid onto her thermos. “I hope you have a good day, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. “Love you.”

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