Page 87 of Theoretically Straight

“Come on, Theo,” Mom says, a frown on her face. “Give your brother a ride.”

“Why can’t you?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Mom narrows her eyes at me. “I’ve got a women’s ministry meeting at church today. Your father will also be at the church for an elders’ meeting.”

I fidget with my cereal bowl. Shit. If I had just stayed in my room, this probably would have resolved itself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Nathaniel’s eyes are on me when I look back up. He doesn’t look angry or frustrated. He looks…curious. Like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

It sends a spike of anxiety up my spine.

“Theo, you really should give Nate a ride,” Dad says with finality. “You’re going to the same place; it’s ten minutes away, and there’s no reason not to. Do the right thing.”

I clench my jaw, then release it. I’m out of excuses. “Yeah, okay.”

Mom and Dad both smile at me, Dad turning back to his iPad and Mom continuing to eat her breakfast.

“Thanks, Theo,” Nathaniel mutters, still watching me with that scrutinizing expression not unlike the way Grace looks when she’s trying to pull something out of me. I turn my focus to my cereal.

“We need to leave here at 11:30,” I mumble without looking back at him. “Will you be ready to go?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

We eat the rest of breakfast mostly in silence except for Mom desperately trying to make conversation where she can. As soon as I’m finished, I make my way upstairs to get ready.

After a long shower and a borderline crisis picking out an outfit—I eventually settle for a solid burnt-orange t-shirt with an old flannel shirt consisting of shades of orange, red, and green, paired with some holey black jeans and sneakers—I’m finally ready to go. I grab my stuff and head out of my bedroom, where Nathaniel is waiting just outside my door. Together, we leave out the front door and climb into Eileen.

“Hey,” Nathaniel starts as he climbs into the front seat. “Thanks for saying yes to driving me. I’m sorry if I’m annoying you.”

I sigh. “You’re not. It’s not you.”

“I’ll move to the back when you get to Caleb’s.”

“Thanks.”

We ride in silence for the first couple of minutes, but an inner battle rages on in my head.

What if I came clean to Nathaniel right now? Is it worth it?

As usual, I decide to weigh the pros and cons. The pros: Caleb and I still get to hold hands in the car. We probably won’t sneak kisses at the red lights, but holding hands is better than nothing. Also, I don’t have to worry about Nathaniel seeing anything or suspecting anything anymore, allowing Caleb and I to be able to relax around one more person.

The cons: Nathaniel might not take it well. He might tell my parents. He might be uncomfortable seeing me hold hands with a guy and ask us to stop—although that’s very unlikely because he usually doesn’t care about anything. Also, Caleb might be uncomfortable holding hands in front of Nathaniel, which would mean I told Nathaniel for no reason at all.

“Theo?”

“Hm?” I look over to see Nathaniel watching me again, his eyes flickering between my face and my hands on the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve got a death grip on the steering wheel, and you’re not even playing music.”

I flex my fingers, relaxing my grip. Shit, he’s right. “Oh yeah, I, uh, must have forgotten to put on a playlist. You can play something if you want.”

“Are you worried that I might tell Mom and Dad about you and Caleb?”

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