Page 26 of Caden & Theo
I smirk. “Is this supposed to inspire me or lower the bar?”
He chuckles. “Just reminding you that you’re already ahead of the game. And that you’ve got this. You’re smart, you’re focused, and you’ve got a damn scholarship, which is more than I ever had.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “We’re proud of you. No matter what.”
There’s a pause. Then I take a breath and glance between them. “Actually… would it be okay if I drove by myself?”
They both blink.
“I just—I need a little time to clear my head,” I add quickly. “I’ll follow you, but… I want to go alone. Is that okay?”
Mom, who’d planned to be my passenger, tilts her head, clearly warring between maternal instinct and understanding. Then she nods. “Of course.”
Dad shrugs. “We’ll be the car in front doing the speed limit.”
“And I’ve got Theo’s playlist,” I add. “I’ll be fine.”
Mom presses a kiss to my forehead. “Flash your lights if you need to stop for gas.”
“Will do.”
Across the yard, the front door of the Brookses’ house opens. Lori steps out first, apron still tied at her waist like she left something on the stove. James follows, slow and solid, and Amelia slips between them, barefoot on the porch.
“Lord, I can’t believe today’s the day,” Lori says, coming straight for me with her arms wide. She hugs me tight, rocking me once like she used to when I was small. “Feels like I just watched you and Theo chasing fireflies out here last summer.” Her voice catches, but she pulls back smiling. “You call your mama, but you better call me too. Don’t make me have to track you down.”
James clasps my hand in both of his, then pulls me in for a one-armed hug. “We’re proud of you, Cade. Always have been. You put your mind to something, you do it. Now go prove us right.” His voice is deep, even, the kind that settles in your chest.
Amelia hangs back until I glance her way. Then she comes down the steps, half grinning. “Guess this makes me the one stuck keeping Theo out of trouble.” She bumps my shoulder. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. When you come back,I want myMario Kartrematch. And don’t be surprised if I’ve leveled up while you’re gone.”
I laugh, but it snags in my throat. Because she’s right—I am leaving them with Theo. And after everything that just happened upstairs, that thought twists in me harder than anything else.
I say goodbye and round the car, keys in hand, but just before I slide into the driver’s seat, something makes me pause. I look back. Back at the house. Our house. The one Mom and Dad worked their asses off to buy when I was four. I remember sitting on the floor in what would become my bedroom, drawing on a pizza box while movers tried to wedge a couch through the door. That memory hits me like a freight train now. The chipped paint on the porch. The creaky screen door. The patch of grass where Theo and I used to practice skate tricks until we both fell into a rosebush and declared the sport evil.
I blink hard, then look up at the second-story window—my room.
And there he is.
Theo.
He’s lit by the morning sun, hair haloed and messy, hoodie zipped up halfway like he’s trying to hold himself together with the strings. His hand is resting on the sill, and he’s looking down at me like he doesn’t want to blink in case I disappear.
Our eyes lock. And then he smiles.
It’s small, soft. Not showy. Not brave.
Just real.
My breath hitches. And somehow, that smile is enough to push me forward.
I duck into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and click the belt into place. The car smells like summer—old air freshener and pool towels—and the faintest trace of Theo’s cologne from when he helped me load up last night.
I slide the CD into the stereo. The player whirs, clicks. Then music blares through the speakers: “Hot in Herre” by Nelly.I burst out laughing, loud and sudden and completely ridiculous.
Ofcoursehe started the playlist with this.
Three years ago, we got dared at a sleepover to learn the dance to it. Theo wentall in. He tied a bandana around his head, grabbed a hairbrush as a mic, and spent the whole night yelling, “Take off your clothes!” until his mom made him shut it down.
