Booktree.ngIt-Starts-with-Us-Colleen-Hoover

He shrugs. “Kinda.”
The discussions I have with Theo are usually one-sided. As much as he
likes to ask questions, he doesn’t answer very many, so I tread carefully.
“Oh yeah?” I try to act casual with my response so he’ll expand. “Who is
she?”
Theo is looking down at his hands. He’s picking at his thumbnail, but I
can see his shoulders sink a little after my question, like I did something
wrong.
Or said something wrong.
“Or he,” I clarify. I whisper it to be sure he’s the only one who hears it.
Theo’s eyes dart up to mine.
He doesn’t have to confirm or deny anything. I can see the truth written
in the fear that’s resting behind his eyes. I give my attention back to the fish
I’m preparing, and as nonchalantly as possible, I say, “Do you go to school
with him?”
Theo doesn’t immediately answer. I’m not sure if I’m the first person
he’s admitted this part of himself to, so I want to make sure to treat that
with the care it deserves. I want him to know he has an ally in me, but I also
hope he’s aware he has an ally in his father, too.
Theo looks around to make sure no one is hovering long enough to
follow along with our conversation. “He’s been in math club with me all
year.” His words are quick and concise, like he wants to release them and
never say them again.
“Does your dad know?”
Theo shakes his head. I watch as he swallows what look like nervous
thoughts.
I put down my knife when I’m done scaling the fish and move to the
sink closest to Theo to wash my hands. “I’ve known your dad for a long
time. He’s one of my best friends for a reason. I don’t surround myself with
people who aren’t good.” I can see the reassurance settle in him when I say
that, but I can also tell he’s uncomfortable and probably wants to change the
subject. “I would say you should text this person you like, but you’re
probably the only twelve-year-old left on earth without a cell phone. You’ll
never date anyone at this rate. You’ll probably be single and phoneless
forever.”
Theo is relieved I’m ribbing him. “I’m so glad you decided to be a chef
and not a therapist. You suck at advice.”