History Is All You Left Me(4)

I really want to spend an hour inside his head, climbing all the different whirling clockwork gears.

“These zombie pirates are smart enough to rename their ship?” I ask him. “We’re screwed.”

“You better be my partner against the zombie pirates,” Theo says. “I know how to save us.”

Theo launches into different strategies we can employ to survive the apocalypse. We’ll need to build a fortress somewhere up high, with cannons and other practical weapons, like military crossbows that shoot flaming arrows. Easy: I almost feel like I can already wield one from all the fantasy books I’ve read. Apparently, I’ll also have to learn how to cook because Theo will be too busy keeping watch twenty-four/seven. He’s pretty sure he’ll have figured out the key to eternal unrest while the undead are among us—and won’t have time to cook or we’ll end up dinner ourselves.

“Sound good, Griff?”

“I can’t promise the food I cook will even be edible, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Theo holds out his hand and we shake on it, locking down our roles in the zombie-pirate apocalypse. Touching him gets my heart pounding, fast and heavy.

I let go. “I have to tell you something.” The subway car is rattling and loud, and the curious eyes have drifted. Everyone else is lost in their own worlds.

“There’s something I have to tell you, too,” Theo says.

“Who goes first?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

We both play rock.

“Same time?” Theo suggests.

“I don’t think my thing is something to shout at the same time. You can go first.”

“Trust me. I’m betting we’re both going to say the same thing. It’ll be easier this way,” Theo says.

I’m not going to keep fighting him on this. Maybe what he has to say is worse than mine, and I won’t feel as bad.

“Countdown from three?”

“Four.”

Theo half-smiles, then nods. “Four, three, two, one.”

“I think I might be crazy,” I spit out while he says, “I like you.”

Theo blushes, his half smile gone. “Wait, what?” He shifts his body around and stares out the train window, but we’re underground, so all he’ll see is darkness and his reflection. “I thought you were going to say you like me. Are you gay, Griff?”

“Yeah,” I admit, for the first time ever, which somehow doesn’t have my heart racing or my face heating up. All I know is, I would’ve lied to anyone else.

“Good. I mean, cool,” Theo says. It seems like he’s flirting with the idea of making eye contact again before keeping his gaze to the window. “Why were you scared to tell me? That you think you’re crazy?”

“Right, that’s the second thing. I think I might have OCD.”

“Your room is too messy,” Theo says.

“It’s not about being organized. You know how lately I’m always forcing my way onto everyone’s left side? It wasn’t like that when we were kids. There’s also my counting thing, where I prefer everything to be an even number, with a couple of exceptions, like one and seven. Volume, the timer on the microwave, how many chapters I read before putting a book down, even how many examples I use in a sentence. It’s distracting, and I always feel on.”

Theo nods. “I’ve felt like this before, too. Maybe not as intense, but I think it’s just a sign of your genius. I’m pretty sure Nikola Tesla was obsessed with the number three and would sometimes walk around a block three times before entering a building. But, Griff, for all we know these compulsions might just turn out to be little quirks.” His blue eyes find my face again, lit. “We can do some research later!”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m not just some delusional kid with a neck tic who scratches his palms whenever he’s nervous, favors everyone’s left side, tugs at his earlobe, and operates in evens. Maybe it’s like autofocusing a camera, where I’m zooming in on one thing and missing everything else.

“It’s been freaking me out a little bit, like I don’t know who I’m going to be in the future. I’m scared something can grow from this and turn me into a Griffin who’s too complicated for you to be friends with in a few years.” I can’t believe I’m unloading all this; it feels surreal, incredible, but I can’t stop. Maybe confessing everything will jinx any illnesses.

Theo scoots closer to me. “I have real things to be worried about, dude, like if the zombie pirates are going to know how to use grappling hooks and matchlocks or if they’re taking us down with teeth and nails. You don’t scare me, and you’ll never be too complicated for my friendship.” Theo pats my knee. His hand rests there for a solid minute. “And I’m sorry if I forced you to come out just now—wait, am I the first person you’ve told?”

I nod, my heart pounding. “You didn’t force me. Okay, actually, you did a little, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I just didn’t have the balls or some huge speech. I was also a little scared I was wrong about my instincts for you. Delusions run on my mother’s side of the family.”

“You’re not delusional,” Theo says. “And you’re not crazy.”