History Is All You Left Me(38)

HISTORY


Thursday, December 25th, 2014

This is the first year the squad isn’t doing Secret Santa. We usually pull names out of Wade’s fitted hat, but now that Theo and I are dating, there was no way we weren’t going to get each other gifts on the side if one of us drew Wade’s name. It’s the kind of stuff that makes our relationship unfair to our friendship with Wade. We broke tradition, which Wade seemed a little bummed about, but he snapped out of it when he realized he’d be getting an extra gift.

Having already spent the morning and afternoons with our own families, it’s nice to kick back in Wade’s bedroom. We’re listening to his jazz playlist on his new speakers. Theo holds out his phone and clicks on my name.

“Check out your new contact photo.”

It’s the photo I texted him this morning of me standing beside my Christmas tree, holding the Ron Weasley ornament he got me on the day our history began. It’s wild how two seasons later, I’m still blushing because of this guy.

Wade must see it, because he distributes the presents Theo and I left underneath the mini Christmas tree when we first arrived.

Theo and I agreed at the beginning of the month that our presents had to be “thoughtfully random.” It basically just meant I couldn’t buy him a puzzle and he couldn’t buy me anything Harry Potter–centric, which sucks because I got zero Harry Potter–related gifts this year for the first time since I don’t know when. A key chain would’ve been appreciated. The gift Theo got me, a small box wrapped in emerald-green paper, makes me wonder if I put too much thought into my gift for him. Mine is in a big box.

We look at each other nervously.

We go in a circle, pushing Wade to go first.

Wade starts with mine, which is this little-known novel, The Adventures of the Courtesan and Golem. It’s a dark comedy about a barren prostitute who steals a potion from her sorcerer client to create a child and ends up bringing a golem to life.

“I have no idea if it’s good,” I say, holding up my hands. “But you were dropping hints recently you’d be interested in giving fiction another shot if something different crossed your way. If you know more books like this, you need to stop hogging them and share.”

Wade smiles. “Thanks a lot, Griff.”

“Griffin,” Theo coughs out. He insists on being the only person besides my dad who calls me Griff.

“Control freak,” Wade coughs back. He shakes his head and scans the back cover. “This sounds up my alley. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’m in. Thanks, Griffin.” He opens Theo’s present: a dozen different ties. There’s also a note telling him to step up his wardrobe game. “Wardrobe is about to be on point. Thanks, Theodore McIntyre. Is it okay if I call you that, Theodore McIntyre?”

“Theo will do,” Theo says, smiling. They fist-bump.

“Your turn,” I tell Theo.

“Bastard.”

Theo opens Wade’s gift: an illustrated cocktail recipe collection.

“Once your early admission is approved, I want you to know how to underage-drink responsibly,” Wade says.

Theo and I laugh.

Then Theo slides my gift for him a little closer. I really wish this moment could be private. You don’t have to be dating someone to tell if they don’t like a gift. Unless someone here is secretly and exceptionally good at hiding their bullshit, I like to think we all have pretty good bullshit detectors. He torments me by tearing open the wrapping slowly, but joke’s on him: there’s still an ordinary box he has to get through, too. Once he breaks that open with his keys, he pulls out a bust of Batman. It takes him a second to see that it’s not Bruce Wayne’s face staring back at him. It’s his own, thanks to this website I found that puts people’s faces on action figures and dolls.

Theo laughs so hard he falls over. I’m close to collapsing with him out of relief.

“I don’t get it,” Wade says.

“On Halloween Theo joked one day Batman would take off his mask and we’d see it was him all along,” I say. We were shooting for “thoughtfully random,” and I hit that mark. Bull’s-eye.

Once Theo recovers and gives me a thank-you kiss, he props Batman-Theo beside him and gestures toward my gifts. “Open Wade’s first.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Disclaimer,” Wade says. “It’s sort of a couples thing, but I think you’re more likely to freak out over it, Griffin. But don’t mistake this as me being okay with you two being super-inseparable. I just had this idea and couldn’t shake it.”

I tear open the wrapping paper, and all I see is the back of a frame, but when I flip it over I see my face and Theo’s face. Together. Not like a mirror, but sort of. Different parts of our features are blended together to create one face: his blue eye, my hazel; the small string of freckles along his nose, my bump on the bridge; his bottom lip, my upper; his blondish eyebrow, my dark one. It’s a portrait and a puzzle.

My hand actually shakes a little at the thoughtfulness of this. “Wade, wow. Thanks so much.” I toss the picture in Theo’s lap and hug the hell out of Wade, probably for the first time ever, then sit back beside Theo. “I’m going to hang it up as soon as I get home.”

“Figured you would. Let’s see what Theo got you.”