History Is All You Left Me(7)

The counting brings me some relief, but it’s not enough. I drop my right hand to the empty space beside me, imagining your hand on mine. Two hands.

That feels better.





HISTORY


Monday, June 9th, 2014

It’s routine after school for Theo, Wade, and me to go to the Barnes & Noble on the Upper West Side to do our homework, but classes are almost over. We browse the shelves instead. Theo was supposed to tell Wade about this new dating thing we’re trying out while he and Wade were running laps last period, but he bitched out. I’m not a fan of secrets. Secrets can turn people into liars, and my lying days are behind me.

We wander away from graphic novels and end up in the biography aisle. It is my least favorite section, but here we are because of Wade and Theo.

“I want my own memoir,” Theo says.

“Only one person can make that happen,” I say.

“I don’t have a title yet,” Theo says.

“The horror,” Wade says, rubbing his eyes again because his new contacts are bothering him. He still looks like himself for the most part—short hair, brown skin, wrinkled shirts—but I think he looks cooler with his glasses. “I’ll probably call mine Wading Through Life.”

Theo fake-yawns. “I can’t wait for that laborious read.”

Wade flips off Theo. “I’m going to get an iced tea from the café. You guys want?”

“Yeah, actually. My treat though.” I give Wade a gift card, leftover from my birthday last month.

“You sure?” Wade asks.

I nod.

Once he’s gone, I give Theo the why-didn’t-you-tell-Wade-about-us glare, but he turns away, eyes back on the bookshelves.

“How about Theo McIntyre: Zombie Pirate Slayer?” I say in the silence.

He smiles, still avoiding my gaze. “But if the zombie-pirate apocalypse doesn’t happen, it’ll get confused as a fantasy novel. I refuse for my existence to be mistaken as fiction, damn it! Maybe I should keep it simple. How about Theo: A Memoir?”

I shake my head. “You’re my favorite Theo and all, but you’re not the only one.”

He turns to me. “You know more Theos? Give me their addresses so I can put an end to this madness.” He throws out his hands, like he’s ready to karate chop any passing Theos. His fighting stance reminds me of his hipster C-3PO Halloween costume last year. He dressed in a T-shirt resembling the android’s body, with gold paint on his face and arms.

“How about C-Theo-PO ?”

“Nah. Too insignificant. Cool chapter title, maybe.” Theo raises an eyebrow and points at me. “I have your title, though. Griffin on the Left.”

Now I want to kiss him so badly. “It’s perfect.” I make sure Wade isn’t coming, and I pull Theo by his hand, leading him to the next aisle. But I don’t act on the kiss because I don’t want to rush it or feel like we’re doing it behind Wade’s back.

“We have to tell Wade, dude,” I whisper. “If you want to do it by yourself, that’s cool, but if you want to tell him together, that’s also cool. But we’re not leaving this bookstore until we do so.”

“Deal,” Theo says, squeezing my hand. “What time does the store close again? I—”

“Whoa,” Wade says.

He is standing at the end of the aisle, holding a tray of iced teas. I jerk my hand out of Theo’s. “Whoa,” he repeats, walking toward us. He’s Theo’s height, but he seems smaller, the way his shoulders sink. He shakes his head and manages a small smile. “This whole squad business was fun while it lasted.”

That’s not the reaction I was expecting. “What are you talking about?”

“How long have you two been dating? I knew this was going to happen. You guys doubt my psychic ways, but I called this last year. I just didn’t tell anyone.”

I don’t know what I was expecting. But it wasn’t this.

“You had a vision where Griffin and I were hooking up and the world was going to end?” Theo asks. His voice is weirdly high-pitched.

Wade smirks, handing me an iced tea. “Pretty much.”

“Your visions are kind of gay,” Theo jokes, attempting to get a hold of himself. “You should get that checked out.”

I take a sip, attempting to get a hold of myself, too. “Wait. How did you know Theo and I liked each other? Don’t say because you’re psychic.”

“You don’t have to be a psychic to have seen this coming. Your chemistry was all over my face.” He hesitates. “That came out wrong. Anyway, I’m not going to be some third wheel, guys.”

Three is a number I’ve forgiven since yesterday, but only for our squad. It hopefully won’t bother me as much now that Theo and I are together, like our personal unit will count as “one,” though I probably shouldn’t mention that to Wade. “It’s not game over for us. Think of it as a new game, if anything, with new levels and new worlds.”

“New obstacles for me if I want to see you guys, and new game modes exclusive to you two,” Wade counters.

“You’re welcome to join in our exclusive activities,” Theo says with a wink.

Wade goes on to list every example of love gone wrong, mainly from comic books: Green Lantern’s girlfriend who was killed and had her corpse stuffed in his fridge; Cyclops and Jean Grey, high school sweethearts who keep losing each other to everything the world throws at them; Ant-Man, who douses the Wasp with bug spray, and wow, I didn’t realize Ant-Man was so emotionally and physically abusive. A fourth example doesn’t follow.