Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,16
said, “What’s taking you so long?”
“Theo was just offering to grab me a beer,” Auggie said. “Want one?”
Theo shook his head and kept going.
Auggie laughed and shot past him, taking the stairs two at a time.
“You guys are so weird,” Orlando said.
Auggie followed Orlando into the first room off the landing. It was a shrine to Cal: pictures of Cal, tennis whites that had presumably belonged to Cal, trophies with Cal’s name on the plaques. The few items that didn’t feature Cal in some way were obviously his teenage relics. A 2006 Cardinals World Series poster. An autographed baseball—Auggie couldn’t decipher the scribble. A spool of hot pink grip wrap, the kind he must have used on his racquet. A pile of tennis shoes.
“Wow,” Auggie said.
“Mom and Dad like to leave our stuff exactly the way we had it.”
Theo came into the room at the tail end of Orlando’s comment. He was standing behind Orlando, making a gee! wow! expression, like Orlando had just unraveled another mystery for him. Auggie had to fight to keep his own face smooth.
“So can we see the Orlando shrine?” Auggie asked.
“If you want to,” Orlando said, “you’d better hurry. Mom’s been talking about turning it into her craft room, and I have the feeling she’s going to do it soon. They already moved my guns down to the basement.”
“I thought they left the room exactly the way you had it,” Theo said.
Discomfort and embarrassment on Orlando’s face made Auggie ask, “Why do you have guns?”
“Hunting,” Orlando said, rolling his eyes. “Do you want me to show you? I’ve got a Savage 110 and a Remington 870.”
“No, thanks.”
“If you change your mind, I could teach you.”
“Thanks, Orlando.”
“Sooner is better than later. Mom’s going to make me move everything to the basement, or else I’ll have to figure out a storage unit.”
Auggie examined the room and shrugged. “It’s cool to see Cal’s stuff, but why’d you want to show us this? Is there something you think we need to see?”
“Oh, I just thought you might be getting a little bored.” Then Orlando blushed, huge spots of color in his cheeks. “My family talks a lot.”
Downstairs, a loud voice rang out, although the words were muffled. Theo cocked his head and said, “Is that Wayne?”
Orlando nodded. “I figured he’d come over. He usually shows up for Sunday dinner.”
“So he’ll be here for a while?”
Orlando nodded again.
“I think we should go back to Cal’s apartment,” Theo said.
“Ok. I’ll ask Wayne—”
“Without Wayne.”
Orlando’s thick brows drew together. “I don’t know.” Then, as though he were testing thin ice, “I mean, I would, but the apartment is locked.”
“You are a bad liar,” Auggie said.
The color in Orlando’s cheeks darkened.
“You have a key,” Theo said.
“No.”
“You know where the spare is.”
Orlando stared at his shoes.
“Come on,” Auggie said. “You’ll feel better once we find Cal.”
Auggie steered Orlando by the shoulders toward the stairs. They left the house by the front door to avoid passing Orlando’s family, and Auggie drove them back toward Wayne and Cal’s apartment on the northeast side of the city. The Civic sounded like it was whining more than usual, and once, after turning left, Auggie caught a whiff of something that made him think of overheated wires. In the rearview mirror, he caught Theo looking at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” A block later, though, Theo said, with a painful attempt at sounding casual, “You know, you’re welcome to borrow the Malibu. If you ever need to.”
Auggie drove two more blocks. He tapped the brakes a little harder than he needed to. He almost missed a turn. He was thinking about Fer driving all the way across the country with him, Fer insisting on carrying everything up to his room, Fer unable to even consider the possibility that Auggie might be able to do things on his own. And overlaying those thoughts was Fer insisting on this piece of shit car, and Theo’s little jokes about the Civic all day, and the nice truck that Cart drove. And overlaying that was the way Theo had said, This is your car? This? And then his brain ran wild with it: Theo and Cart holding hands, Theo and Cart kissing, Theo telling Cart about the Civic and Auggie and then Theo and Cart laughing like crazy.
“Where’s the Pretty Pretty?” Auggie asked.
“Huh?” Orlando said.
“Really quick, just so I know where it is. Let’s swing by.”
“I’m sorry,” Theo said. “What?”
“Orlando?”
“Just turn up here. No, the next one.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Theo said. “Wayne—”