History Is All You Left Me(75)

“Griff, wait, what happened?”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Theo. Happy birthday.”

“Talk to me, I—”

I hang up and throw the puzzle portrait across the room. It doesn’t seem right that it remains intact.

Tuesday, May 17th, 2016

“Maybe Theo died,” Wade tells me over the phone.

“That’s not funny,” I say.

A couple of hours ago, around ten my time, Theo uploaded a filtered photo on Instagram of himself with Jackson, both of them wearing shades and too much sunscreen on their foreheads, playing chess at the beach. It’s safe to assume the game was earlier, but I don’t know what else Theo has been doing with his day that he can’t call and wish me a happy birthday.

I know this isn’t some revenge nonsense left over from February when I didn’t go to his birthday dinner. We talked that one out; he gets that I wasn’t ready to meet Jackson.

“You still haven’t opened his present?” Wade asks.

“Nope.”

I’ve opened every other present today except the one the UPS guy dropped off this afternoon. It arrived right as I got home from school. My parents got me some new video games and an envelope of gift cards. Wade baked me a dozen cupcakes, and I haven’t tried any of them yet, though I lied and told Wade they’re great.

“Your birthday is over in a couple of minutes,” he says.

I didn’t need that reminder. “Yeah. I’m going to open it now. I’ll talk to you at school tomorrow.”

“I got to wait until tomorrow?”

“I doubt it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Better not be.”

“Thanks again for the cupcakes.”

“Happy birthday, Griffin. See you tomorrow.”

It’s weird seeing Theo’s dorm address on the package instead of his Manhattan address. I grab a pen and stab my way into the box. I pull out a pair of navy boots with black laces and a card.

The card reads:



Happy birthday, Griff. I saw these and thought of you immediately. You’ll look cooler than everyone else out here.

Your best friend in the apocalypse,

Theo.

P.S.: Wear these EVERYWHERE because the post office here sucks. EVERYWHERE, I SAY, EVERYWHERE.



It’s a great gift and I will wear the boots everywhere, but I don’t know how I can count on him to be my best friend during the apocalypse when he can’t even call me on my birthday. There’s still another two minutes.

I’m sure he’ll come through. Right?

Thursday, June 30th, 2016

Everything feels wrong. I’m hugging Theo for the first time since last August. I have both arms wrapped around him, with my chin pressed deep in his shoulder, and he’s hugging me like I’m his uncle, not best friend slash first love. Theo feels wrong.

He looks wrong too. He’s come home with a slight tan I didn’t really expect because of all the filtered photos he uploads. I don’t want him to look unhappy, but I don’t like how airy he seems, like life has finally made sense now that he left.

“It’s great seeing you guys,” Theo says, hugging Wade a lot more intimately than he does me. It’s not like Jackson is here and can see us; he’s vacationing with his father this week in Cancun. I’d be surprised if it’s actually for “father-son bonding” and not a guilt trip.

“You too,” I say, burying my hands in my pockets.

“It’s been a minute,” Wade says.

Theo sees the boots he got me for my birthday, the toes scratched from how often I wear them. “The boots!”

“I’m wearing them everywhere, as requested,” I say.

“Good going on messing up his birthday,” Wade says.

“Honest mistake,” Theo says. “It’s weird thinking of Griffin being born on an odd-numbered day. At least I got the shoe size right!”

Why can’t Theo’s coming home ever be simple? Even though Jackson isn’t here with him this time, I still feel his presence all afternoon. Theo avoids saying his name so he doesn’t set me off. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer it this way, but whenever Theo’s about to talk about him, he turns to me and changes the subject, like I should feel guilty. He’s also checking his phone constantly, answering Jackson’s texts immediately. I can’t wait until we’re underground on our way to Brooklyn for randomness so his California me-knockoff can’t reach him.

On our way to the train station, Wade brings up colleges. “I don’t think I could be away from home that long. I’m probably going to stick around here in the city next fall.”

“It’s not the worst thing,” Theo says.

It’s not the worst thing because he’s found himself paradise, whereas the rest of us are stuck here missing him, alone. “I’m definitely applying to SMC,” I say.

Theo nods. “If that’s what you want you totally should.” Now he sounds like a fucking guidance counselor.

“Of course it’s what I want,” I say. I almost remind him it’s what we both want, but I promised Wade I wouldn’t make today about Theo and me. I have no idea what I want to study in college, but I know Theo and I only stand a chance at repairing our relationship if we’re closer.