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For a while, North paced in the parking lot. The sun baked him as it rose. Sweat bunched his shirt under his arms and made the cotton ride up his back. Theo stood where North had left him, watching. He didn’t even have the decency to read on his phone or be like other old people and drift off unexpectedly and then pretend he hadn’t been napping. When North couldn’t stand it anymore, he left the motor court and walked a few blocks to the closest convenience store—a classy joint called a Kum & Go. They didn’t have American Spirits, so, because he was feeling particularly vengeful toward himself, he bought a pack of Pall Malls and walked back to the motor court. He found a patch of shade out of sight and sat and lit up. The first cigarette was absolute shit. So was the second.
The sound of a step alerted him. His head came up, and he moved to stub out the cigarette. But Theo was already standing there, and North froze. To North’s surprise, Theo lowered himself to the ground to sit next to him. Then he plucked the cigarette from North’s hand, tilted his head back, and took a deep drag. He coughed once, held the smoke, and then released it slowly. He had little tears in his eyes as he shook his head.
“Holy shit, North,” he wheezed. “You know they make cigarettes that don’t taste like you’re sucking on a decomposing ashtray, right?”
Approximately a thousand things North wanted to say—no, needed to say—swirled through his head. All that came out, though, was a startled laugh.
Theo drew hard on the cigarette again, closing his eyes, moving his head slightly to lift the flow of strawberry-blond hair from his neck. He didn’t cough this time, but when he blew out, he still made a face. Then he opened his eyes and offered the cigarette back.
“You have got to be shitting me,” North said.
Theo’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Don’t tell Auggie.”
“Don’t tell Shaw.”
The crinkles got a little bigger, and North was surprised to find himself grinning as he took the cigarette. For a while, they sat in silence, sharing the rest of the cigarette. North wasn’t sure the last time he’d shared one. High school, he guessed.
When Theo scrubbed the butt under one heel, he said, “I haven’t smoked since—jeez, since before I met Ian, I guess. I wasn’t ever really serious about it, but just about everyone around me smoked, and it was hard not to pick it up as a social habit.”
“A social habit,” North said. “Must have been fucking nice.”
Theo smiled. Neither of them spoke, and cars ran back and forth on the road, the sound of tires rising and falling. Kind of like water, North thought after a while. Kind of like waves.
“Maybe you ought to go up there,” Theo finally said.
North thought about that. Then he nodded. His face heated as he said, “It’s not—I was worried about him.”
“I know.”
“It’s not like—” He stopped. “I know I shouldn’t have let things get out of hand like that.”
Theo laughed and scratched his beard. “You’re talking to the master of letting things get out of hand. It’s not ideal, but it happens. You’ve both had some time to cool off. That tends to happen too.”
A white lady with a Great Dane jogged past. The Great Dane didn’t look like he was particularly enjoying the experience—the white lady kept having to tug on the leash and say, “Yadi, hurry up!”
“Good fucking Lord,” North muttered.
Theo shook his head, but he was grinning.
Maybe it was simply the fact that Theo was there, and North needed to talk to somebody. Maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was the annoyingly unescapable reality that, in spite of North’s best efforts, Theo was pretty much unflappable—always calm, always kind. North had grown up with a very different kind of father, but it was hard to ignore the fact that Theo had some seriously good dad energy. Which was, North considered in a moment of clarity, probably why North’s knee-jerk reaction was to see what it would take to get Theo to lose control.
Whatever the reason, North heard himself talking before he realized he was going to say anything.
“We did this before.” He stared at the Pall Malls, rattled them in their pack. “In college.”
Theo tucked his hair behind his ears and watched him.
“Does Auggie ever want to punch you in the face?”
A tiny smile creased the corner of Theo’s mouth. “What happened in college?”
“He…Shaw got attacked. By this psycho with a knife. And things just got worse. Every day was worse. Until finally he wasn’t leaving the apartment anymore, and then he wasn’t leaving his room anymore, and—and I knew where he was going. Knew what was happening.” His thumb pressed down hard enough to dimple the pack. “So, I kicked down the door and took him out of there. I took him home. His parents hadn’t known how bad it had gotten. And I stayed there with him.” North almost said,Until he was better. But that wasn’t right, was it?
“Then Shaw’s lucky to know you.” Theo straightened his leg and massaged his knee, which deserved some sort of crack about arthritis and old joints, but North didn’t have it in him. “Of course, I think anyone who watches the two of you for more than a minute knows that.”
North looked up. The sun was so bright he had to squint, which was a good cover for blinking his eyes. “Yeah, well.” He had to count to ten. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
Theo was silent, and the passing cars dwindled until the only sound was the rustle of fabric as Theo massaged his knee through his jeans. When he spoke, his voice had an unfamiliar note, and North was surprised, when he recognized it, to realize it was pain.
