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“Of course. Happy to do it.” I’ve met Theo only a handful of times. He and Ben used to be inseparable when they were younger, but they drifted apart when Theo left home for college. Over the years, I’ve pieced together that there was some sort of rift between them, but I’ve never gotten a clear answer from Ben about what happened to cause it. They barely speak now, but of course Theo would still want to celebrate with them. He’s family. I’m sure whatever their differences are, he’d still want to congratulate them.

“You’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much. He’ll be staying with me and Ben. I actually have a spare key on me, hold on.” She digs through her purse for a moment before coming up with the shiny silver key. “Here.”

“Oh, cool.” I force yet another smile I don’t feel. “You can count on me.”

“Thank you so much, Marcela.” She wraps me in a hug, smiling sweetly as we say our goodbyes. “You’re too good to us. I’ll see you at the party.”

“Can’t wait!” I lie, my face stretched into the fakest smile of my life.

When I return to my bedroom, I swipe through Tinder for half an hour. Just when I’m about to give up, my phone pings with a match. I wait for him to message first this time, continuously skimming over profiles and swiping until I let out a groan. Needing a distraction from Tinder, I open up the message app and tell Angela about the engagement party. Her reply comes right away.

You need to bring a date.

I groan again, furiously typing that there are no good men left on Tinder. We argue back and forth for a bit before I finally give a half-assed reply that I’ll try harder. This is so obviously a lie that she doesn’t bother to send more than an eye-roll emoji. I leave her on read and take a shower, hoping to wash off the stench of despair and longing before next weekend arrives.

The first time I met Theo Young, he was drunk off his ass.

It was three months into my sophomore year of college, and until then I’d only encountered fun drunks. Sorority girls dancing on tabletops. Frat bros stripping themselves of all clothing before cannonballing into the pool at the activity center. Even I had been a fun drunk at the few parties I’d been to thus far. Lost my inhibitions as well as myself to the music and talked way too much for my own good. But Theo was far from fun that night.

He was… angry, maybe? Not at anyone in particular, except maybe himself. If there’s a word to combine rage and sorrow, Theo was that. He drank himself into a stupor in Ben’s student apartment, shattered two bottles of tequila and then a mirror with his own hand. When his face was scrunched with incoming tears, I had the oddest feeling it wasn’t due to any sort of physical pain. His scream woke half the building, but by the time we got a noise complaint and a visit from campus security, he was already out cold. I’d been scared seeing him like that, but not for myself. Not even for Ben, though he had been backed against a corner the entire night, face sheet white. I wondered what could drive a person to destroy himself like that, and not care who was watching.

It wasn’t until he was asleep that Ben tended to his brother’s wounded hand. I watched over his shoulder as he cleaned it, my stomach churning at the amount of blood gushing from such a deceptively tiny cut. He looked so small, wincing as he wiped down the cuts with rubbing alcohol wipes, as if scared his brother would wake up from the sting of pain and continue on his rampage. Looking back, that night is what made me fall for Ben even more. We were broken up by then, but my heart ached as I watched the careful way he cared for his brother. Even when I was sure Theo didn’t deserve such kindness, after visiting Ben only to act like that the entire time. I made my excuses and left soon after, not imagining the morning after could be any better.

Later, Ben told me about Theo’s injury. A torn ACL had shot his chances at playing pro football and had been the reason for his drunken furor. “He pushes himself too hard” had been Ben’s explanation. “He’s had problems with his knee before, but he never lets himself heal properly.”

For the meantime, that was that. The end of a career before it could begin. Or so we thought. The sideline turned out to be only temporary, but none of us knew it back then.

The second time I saw Theo I hardly recognized him, and not just because a year and a half had passed in the time between. Not only was he sober, but he was also smiling as wide as his mouth could stretch, genuine happiness shining in his eyes. We were at a brunch date with Alice and Ben the day after they moved in together.

Theo pulled me aside later to apologize for the first time we met. I was struck by his earnestness, so at odds with the thrashing man I’d been faced with before. Even more so that he even remembered I’d been there that night. He was so drunk, I assumed he’d blacked out. He wouldn’t let me wave off his apology like it was nothing, my usual gut response when anyone tries to apologize to me for any reason, even a warranted one.

“Truly, Marcela. If I scared or hurt you at all that night, I’m sorry,” he said, a gentle hand laid on my shoulder. “I should’ve controlled myself better. But believe me, it won’t happen again.” I wasn’t sure why he bothered making that kind of promise to me when we barely knew each other.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ben watching us closely. His eyes were narrowed in thought, body poised to rise from his seat at the first sign of trouble. Theo’s back was to him, so he didn’t notice. The conversation didn’t last long, but something about it made me uneasy. Like there was a piece missing in this puzzle, but I was the only oblivious one.

As for Theo, I could hardly reconcile the two versions I’d seen of him. I still can’t say which one is real.

Now, when I reach the airport, I set my car in park and wait for him to arrive at pickup. It doesn’t take long to spot his blond head, mostly because he’s at least half a foot taller than the crowd of people around him. I roll down the passenger window and wave him over. He deposits his bags in the trunk before settling into the passenger seat of my tiny Chevrolet.

“Hey.” Not much has changed in his appearance since the last time I saw him. That was a few years ago, maybe? He’d puked in a ficus at brunch, then tipped the waitress a hundred bucks to make up for it. As nice a gesture as that was, I’m still convinced the guy has some serious issues to work through. His hair is shorter than I remember, cropped close to his scalp. He’s dressed in gray sweatpants and a hoodie despite the heat, but I imagine beneath all those layers he’s still built like a god. At least, that’s what Christine, Alice’s best friend, says every time he comes down to visit. Every year, it gets harder and harder for Alice to pull her away from the poor guy. It’s no surprise she asked me for the favor instead.

“Thanks for picking me up. You didn’t need to trouble yourself.”

“It’s not a problem. I already had the day off and no plans to speak of,” I say with an easy laugh. “So, can you believe Ben and Alice are getting married?” I don’t actually want to talk about Ben and Alice, but I don’t know what else to say around this man I barely know. Since our only commonality is Ben, there really isn’t much else to make small talk about. “It still feels like we’re too young to be settling down.”

He grunts but doesn’t reply. Okay? Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about their engagement either, though I can’t imagine what his reasons are. I go for a new angle.

“How was the game?” Even as the question comes out of my mouth, I brace myself for the answer. My knowledge of football is abysmal at best, and I certainly don’t care to change that. The UTSA team was historically bad when I was there, but that didn’t stop a concerning amount of students from using home games as a chance to start tailgating at eight in the morning. While all our friends spent the day drinking, Ben and I would skip out in favor of a movie. Though he’d played in high school, Ben seemed to want nothing to do with the sport. Even now, he still changes the channel when a football game comes on.

But surprisingly, all I get from Theo is another grunt. His shoulders sink, head turning away from the windshield. Okay… so no football talk, either. Geez, what else is there to talk about with this guy?

Nothing, apparently. The rest of the car ride is mostly silent, except for when I blaze over a speed bump and Theo’s head hits the roof of my car with a loud thunk. I apologize profusely and offer him Advil from my purse, already digging through it before he can respond. I end up driving over another bump while I’m distracted. My car veers slightly left before Theo makes a grab for the wheel to straighten it.

“Sorry.” My voice goes higher as I take the wheel back, face heating from embarrassment. Thankfully the residential road is deserted, so we don’t run the risk of cops being called and mistaking me for a drunk driver. When I shoot a glance at Theo, he’s clutching the top of his head with one hand.

“Small car problems.” I shoot him a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to drive with tall people in the passenger seat.”

“It’s okay,” he assures me, an amused quirk to his lips. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s enough of something to put me at ease. “You get used to it in my field. I only wish I brought my helmet.”

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