Page 9 of Theoretically Straight

Elise inhales sharply. “You see what I mean, Theo? He’s being an idiot! First of all, subtitles just get in the way and are distracting. I can’t read everything on the screen and see each character’s micro-expression at the same time!”

“Says the girl who hates subtitles on everything,” Harrison mutters.

“Second, this isn’t the freakin’ twentieth century anymore!” Elise exclaims, her volume increasing again. “Dubs aren’t an afterthought like they used to be! American voice actors are incredible! You can’t sit here and tell me that Matt Mercer isn’t a fantastically talented voice actor.”

Harrison’s face twists in confusion. “I would never say that. What does he have to do with–”

“Dude, come on,” I interrupt. “Even I know that he’s Jotaro inJoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.”

“See!?” Elise shouts. “Thank you, Theo! Finally, someone is making sense at this stupid table.”

Harrison leans back, slightly defeated. “Okay, yeah, I forgot about that. But just because one voice actor on one show–”

“He’s not the only one! Do you want me to pull up IMDB right now and drag you across this disgusting lunchroom floor? Dubs are just as good, if not better than subs nowadays, and if you’re not willing to join us in this century and give them another try, it’s your stupid loss.”

Harrison turns to me in frustration, but I simply shrug. “Sorry, dude, I’m with Elise on this one.”

“Ha! In your face, Harry!” Elise says excitedly, giving Harrison a flirty shove as she cackles at him. Before long, there’s a big goofy grin plastered on Harrison’s face, and even if no one else can tell he’s blushing, I sure can. I smile at the two of them. Their flirting is cringe at best and grating at worst, but all things considered, I know that Harrison is loving every second of it. He deserves this. He deserves to be happy. To be in love.

And as if on cue, my phone buzzes against my thigh in my pocket. I frown in confusion—all the friends who I regularly text are sitting here at this table with me. Well, except for one “friend” who, of course, attends a private Christian school a few towns over.

Sure enough, the message is from Sienna.

Sienna

Hey Theodore! Sorry I missed you after church last night! What’s your work schedule like for the rest of this week? I’d love to get coffee and catch up! <3<3 Are you free tonight or Friday night?

I try not to roll my eyes as I type out a quick reply.

Theo

hey Sienna… darn, I’m actually working tonight and already have plans w/ family on Friday night… :(

There’s an instant sense of relief that our schedules don’t align, but it’s immediately followed by a twist of guilt for that relief. Damn it. I swiftly type out another response.

Theo

what about next Monday?

Please, God, let her be busy Monday, please let her be busy Monday. Also, sorry for saying “damn it” again.

Why do I do this to myself?

My phone buzzes again, and I brace myself.

Sienna

Darn it, I’m leading a Bible study on Monday night :’( What other nights are you free?? I miss you!

The same emotional whiplash occurs yet again—relief that promptly morphs into shame. I check my work calendar, and sure enough, I’m off Tuesday, too. Great.

Theo

I’m also off Tues, does that work?

Sienna

Yay! Yes, next Tuesday is perfect! <3 It’s a date then! ;)

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