face must have communicated what he was feeling because Auggie offered a sickly smile and hurried toward the Sigma Sigma house. By the third step, he was running.
It was the last day of November, and it was practically balmy, unnaturally warm for that time of year. Theo had decided against a coat before the ride over, and now he unbuttoned his flannel work shirt, grateful he had chosen to wear a tee underneath. The bus pulled away, the engine rumbling up, the whine before shifting gears, and then the street was silent. Behind Theo, the door to the Sigma Sigma house opened. He checked his watch.
“Eight minutes, sixteen seconds,” he said without looking over his shoulder.
“I had to pee,” Auggie said, his voice drawing closer. “And some people actually like me. They wanted to say hi.”
“No,” Theo said when he saw Auggie. “Go back inside and put on appropriate clothes.”
Auggie pulled at the tank that said Slutbreaker and glanced down at the shorts that were barely long enough to cover his crotch. The little shit had changed clothes in the eight minutes and sixteen seconds he’d been out of sight. And he’d done it on purpose, the way he did everything on purpose, to fuck with Theo.
“What?” Auggie said, pulling up the tank to chew on the collar. In the process, he exposed the faintly defined muscles of his stomach. “It’s a nice day. It’s in the seventies. It’s beautiful, especially for November.”
“Do not test me, Auggie.”
More chewing. A thoughtfully arched eyebrow. Considering noises. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable . . .”
“Get your ass back inside and put on clothes.”
“I have clothes on.”
“Real clothes.”
“These are real.”
“Auggie!”
He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look remotely close to pleased. If anything, he looked slightly hurt, and he plucked at his tank as though seeing it for the first time. But Theo knew Auggie better than he knew just about anyone, and he knew that inside, Auggie was gloating.
When Auggie came back, he was in his Jordans, jeans, and a long-sleeved tee.
“Talk,” Theo said.
“We might have to talk as we drive,” Auggie said. “I want to catch Sadie before she leaves her apartment.”
“Is Sadie the dealer?”
“I mean, she’s a person, Theo. I don’t think she identifies primarily as a drug dealer.”
Theo stood up from the wall. Auggie took a step back.
“Cut it out,” Theo said. “You’re mad at me. Fine. You want to punish me. Fine. I’ll take all the shit you want to dump on me because I know I treated you badly, and I’m sorry. But what you’re playing around with, it’s the real thing, so don’t act like we’re talking about scoring weed from a kid after gym class. If you aren’t taking this seriously, you’re putting both of us in danger.”
The color under Auggie’s light brown skin was a dark, dusky red. His chin came up. “I’m taking this seriously.”
“Then act like it.”
He bit his lip, and for a moment, his eyes were shiny. Then he blinked and said, “She’s the dealer.”
“How do you know she’s Cal’s dealer?”
“I’ll tell you in the car if you want to go with me. If you don’t want to, then I’m going by myself.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Theo said.
In the Civic, they were both silent for the first five minutes of the drive. The car provided its own soundtrack: the screech of brakes, an ominous gasping noise on even the slightest hills, and a rhythmic whumping that kicked on and off to no pattern that Theo could discern.
“We’ll have to be fast,” Auggie said. “There’s a party tonight at the house. Everybody’s going to be there.”
Theo rolled down the window.
“Dylan will probably be there.”
Theo put his hand out to catch the breeze. The air felt good between his fingers.
“Maybe I’ll see if Sadie’s got any good weed.”
“You made your point, Auggie.”
“I’m not making a point.”
“You just wanted to casually remind me that you do drugs.”
“Not everything is about you, Theo. I didn’t change my clothes to make you mad. And I’m just making conversation.”
Shaking his head, Theo tried to concentrate on the portion of Wahredua they were passing through. It was mostly a blur. An aluminum mailbox with stick-on numbers. A newspaper still in its plastic, although it had obviously been left out in the rain. How long, Theo wondered. A week? Two? A month? A Pepsi two-liter caught in a storm drain.
Then he was talking even though he didn’t want to. “So now you’re a frat boy.”
“What?”
“Last year, you started off