History Is All You Left Me(10)

I suddenly, desperately want to win because maybe I’ll become just as obsessed as he is, and we can do stuff like host Star Wars themed Halloween parties for our friends.

Okay, I need to take a step back and take this relationship one week at a time.

Waitresses and waiters pass out papers and pens as they collect food orders. Once they’ve cleared the floor, the hostess announces we’re beginning in one minute.

Theo turns to me and my heart is trying to headbutt itself out of my chest.

“Question one . . .”

It doesn’t take long to see that this evening is mostly about older people who want to get drunk. Within minutes, we’re kicking ass. The planet Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back was shot where? Norway. (Thanks, Theo.) The writer behind Toy Story and Firefly ? Joss Whedon. The only character on The Simpsons with ten fingers? God. The last Harry Potter book was published in . . . ? 2007, but the series actually ended in 1998. (You’re welcome, Theo.) Teamwork.

“Final question!”

I’m pretty sure we’re nineteen for nineteen, so we can’t mess this up.

“Which actor couldn’t do the Vulcan salute in 2009’s Star Trek ?”

Theo writes down Zachary Quinto’s name and hands our sheet over to the nearest volunteer. “We got this. Get ready for a marathon at my house.”

It takes about twenty minutes for the judges to review the answers, when a bell dings. The hostess returns to the front of the room and coughs very dramatically. “I’m pleased to announce there is a tie between two teams! But since we only have one boxed set, we’re going to have a live tiebreaker! Can I get one representative from Team Stark-Kirk and one from Team Human-Pirates?”

“Yes!” Theo gets up, and I hope he wins this for us. “You. Up.”

“What? No. You go.”

“I elect you!”

I pick up the napkin and wave it. “I forfeit.”

“Technically, you surrender when you’re waving the white flag. It’s a small but important difference.”

“See? You’re smarter. You do it.”

“You got this, Griff. I believe in you. Go.”

Theo nudges me to the front of the room and retreats once I’m up there. I’m representing us in a trivia contest; this is definitely a bizarre universe. I shake hands with my competitor, a redhead girl in big glasses. It’s her against me for the Star Wars boxed set. Everyone is quiet, staring at us, excited for the showdown. But my tunnel vision reveals only a smiling Theo and his encouraging thumbs-ups.

“First one to answer correctly wins the grand prize,” the hostess says. “Tiebreaker question.” She reaches into what looks like an empty mint bowl and retrieves a slip of paper. “From the Harry Potter series, what is Dumbledore’s full name?”

A Harry Potter question; I got this. “Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore!”

Before the hostess can shake her head, I realize I’ve gotten it wrong. It’s Wulfric before Brian. I gasp with my hand over my mouth. I can’t even face Theo. My bespectacled competitor answers the question correctly and receives the roaring applause—the applause I wanted Theo to witness for me. I try to remind myself that this is all silly, and I smile and congratulate her. She is gracious enough to congratulate me too, which makes it a little better.

I walk back to my table with the sword and shield. “I suck.”

“Dude, you killed it! I bet you wouldn’t have confused those names if you were able to write them down on paper. It’s like trying to solve certain math problems without a calculator.”

“Which you do all the time.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same thing. You’re passionate about this. There’s also no way in hell I’d have even gotten Dumbledore’s first name.”

“You’re forced to be nice to me because I just lost,” I say.

Theo takes the sword from my hand. “Kneel before the king, Griff.” I look around for the king. “Me, asshole. I’m the king. Who else would be the king? Wade?”

I laugh in spite of myself and get down on one knee, bowing my head as he knights me.

“On this rainy Thursday, I, King Theo of New York City, praise you, Sir Griffin of New York City, for your vast knowledge of fantasy novels I’ll never take the time to read myself. And for having the kind of laugh that I like hearing so much I would punch myself over and over if you found it funny.”

I rise, still grinning at our own stupidity. Theo twirls the sword between his fingers and swings, but I deflect him with the shield. I keep blocking his attacks. We ignore the waiters asking us to stop playing and eventually run toward the pinball machines, where I finally drop the shield.

“I surrender!” I say. “It’s surrender, right? Not forfeit?”

“My work here is done. I have nothing left to teach you, Sir Griffin of New York City.” Theo is brandishing his sword, victorious.

I disarm us both as I kiss him, the plastic sword clattering at our feet as he pulls me closer to him.

This feels right, even as our teeth clink. I laugh when we part.

“That’s a thing we just did,” I say.

“Let’s do it more often,” Theo says.





TODAY


Monday, November 20th, 2016