In high school, when Theo was such a god, so gorgeous, so hunky, with girls swarming around him, Juliet had threatened to take photos of the way he left his bedroom and their bathroom, but Theo only laughed, not worried at all.
In her old bedroom, Juliet stripped off her city clothes and pulled on a pair of old pajamas she’d left in her chest of drawers. Her bed was neatly made up, her nightstand stacked as usual with a pile of books and a box of tissues. A small high-tech reading light was attached to the post of her bed. She turned off the overhead light and the reading light cast a clear white glow onto her pillow. A little full moon. She crawled in, pulled up the covers, gazed at her familiar walls, and lay thinking about physical attraction, the whims of fate, and if there really was anything like true love.
six
Six weeks ago, Theo had ended a spectacular ride at Newport Beach getting slammed by The Wedge to the bottom of the sea. Massive adrenaline rush, but he’d fractured his humerus and yes, he was bored of humorous puns, and he also had a minor concussion. After the X-ray, the doctors assured him he didn’t need surgery, but he’d been in the hospital for a few days, then in a clamshell brace (a clamshell brace, so how could he not think of Nantucket?) for almost a month, and now he wore a sling. The swelling was gone but he still took the oxy. His doctor said to keep taking the oxy and gradually switch out to Tylenol as the pain eased.
You’re supposed to get away from home, right? Theo had done the best he could to start his own life anew. But the oxycodone that the doctor prescribed for him made him think of Atticus, and Atticus made him think of his home clear across the continent, which made him think of Beth, who he had loved all his life and who never knew it.
But what a douche he was to be feeling sorry for himself here, when he was still alive, a short walk to the Pacific Ocean, with only a pretty much healed fractured humerus. And Atticus was dead. Had been dead for too many years.
Theo had been best friends with Atticus ever since they were kids. They walked into the Small Friends preschool, bonded immediately, and kept on like that into middle school. Both were handsome (both knew it, how could they not, with the attention they got from girls), energetic, and smart. Theo was the blond jock. Atticus was the black-haired stormy intellectual with the Heathcliff vibe that made girls crazy for him. They’d been best friends, not really interested in girls.
In eighth grade, it started to change. They had talked about girls, made dumb crass jokes that they could never say in front of their parents, but slowly they both became more respectful. Partly because of the mandatory life science class, partly because of their own turbulent hormones.
They noticed Beth Whitney at the same time. Well, they’d known her forever, of course, but they really noticed her the summer after ninth grade when they were all swimming at Surfside. She’d gone from little girl to gorgeous overnight, it seemed. When she peeled off her shirt and ran down to the water in her bikini, Theo said, “Well, damn,” and Atticus said, “Agreed.”
It wasn’t just teenage lust, it was also that Beth was so nice, and funny, and smart, and well, sunny. They both had classes with her, and their high school was relatively small, so they said hi when they passed in the halls, but one day Theo went to get something out of his locker and he saw Atticus in the hall and Beth standing next to him, looking up at him, smiling.
Theo and Atticus had always walked home together. By that spring, Beth walked with them. Atticus was always in the middle, and often he and Beth held hands. Theo wondered if this was how it felt to have a broken heart, a searing pain from his collarbone to his guts that burned him even as he smiled and joked with the other two. Maybe it was also raging jealousy. He stopped walking home with them, staying late for a game of basketball or just goofing around, anything to let them have their space. By their junior year, Atticus and Beth were a definite couple. Theo started seeing other girls. He could pretty much see any girl he wanted, which was vain of him, he knew, but it was also true, and it also sucked because the only girl he wanted was Beth.
Late on a Saturday morning in the early spring of his senior year, his mother rapped on his bedroom door. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“Fine,” Theo called, yawning. He was just lying there staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself. “Let him in.”
The door opened and there was Beth.
“Hey!” Theo cried, scrambling to sit up in bed. He wore only his boxers to sleep in, so he was naked from his waist up.
“Sorry to wake you,” Beth said. She was all long blond hair and big green eyes and tight jeans and a loose sweater. “Can we talk for a moment?”
“Um, sure.”
Beth perched on the end of his bed. “It’s about Atticus.”
Of course it was about Atticus, Theo thought. “What about him?”
“You are his best friend. His closest friend. You’ve been avoiding him lately, and so you probably haven’t noticed, but he’s gotten kind of…depressed.”
“You think it’s because I’m avoiding him?”
“I don’t know. I mean, he told me he has these moods sometimes. His parents want him to see a psychiatrist, but of course he won’t. So maybe it’s not you, but I think he might talk more honestly to you.”
Theo was having trouble simply dealing with the fact that Beth Whitney, in all her beauty, was sitting on the end of his bed. He couldn’t get his, um, mind past that. “What do you want me to do?”
“Call him up. Hang out with him. Like even tonight. I’m going to a sleepover with friends. It would be the perfect time to see him.”
Theo brought his knees to his chest, keeping the sheet over them, and folded his arms on his knees. “You really love him, don’t you?”
Beth turned bright pink. “Sure, I love him, I mean I care for him, but he’s not…not my one true love.” She couldn’t look at Theo. “I mean, he’s so smart and he can be so funny, but he can be hard work at times, and I feel more like his, oh, psychiatric nurse than his girlfriend.” She covered her face with her hands. “That’s an awful thing to say, isn’t it?”
“So would you ever, um, date someone else?”
Beth looked at Theo. She was still bright pink. “I couldn’t, Theo, not while Atticus is so unhappy.”
For one long moment, Theo’s eyes met Beth’s, and a warmth spread through his chest, through his limbs, through his face.
They both looked away.
“I’ll call Atticus and see about tonight,” Theo promised.
“Thanks, Theo.” Beth flashed him a quick smile as she rose. As she went out his door, she turned back. “Bye.”