Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,24

himself that he had forgotten about Auggie and the shock of seeing him in Wagner’s class.

Inside the small brick house, he flipped on the window unit, kicked off his shoes, and carried them upstairs. Two bedrooms were snugged up under the eaves: a larger one, which he had shared with Ian, and the smaller one that had been Lana’s. He’d started the process of moving their stuff into the basement over a year ago, shortly after the accident. He’d mostly finished with Ian’s stuff—he’d left a few trinkets on the dresser, a few of Ian’s shirts that he liked to wear—but Lana’s room was still a work in progress. He tossed the shoes in the closet and changed into shorts and an AC/DC tee.

His phone buzzed, and he saw Cart’s name on the screen.

“Are you still mad at me?” Theo said.

A slight pause. “Fuck, that’s how we’re going to start?”

“Yep. Answer the question.”

“No, I’m not mad at you. Christ, Theo, I wasn’t ever mad at you.”

“So, the new routine is that I blow you, and you don’t answer my texts for three days.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“This is not the day to test my fucking patience.”

“I’ve been busy. Jesus, Theo. Jesus Christ. Is that so hard to believe, that I’ve been busy? Do you know how they’ve had us running around ever since these demonstrations started?”

“Ok,” Theo said and disconnected.

The phone buzzed again. Theo let it go to voicemail. It buzzed again, this time a text message: I’m coming over to help with the garage. I’ll make it up to you.

Sticking your knob down my throat isn’t a way to make it up to me, Theo texted back. Then he sent a second message: Don’t come over. I’ll clean out the garage myself.

This is fucking bullshit, Cart wrote back.

Theo closed the flip phone. Then he opened it again and powered it off. He stood there, thinking about the line of pills he’d taped to the back of the electrical box of the outlet in his bedroom.

Instead, he went downstairs, got the peanut-butter knife out of the fridge, and was mortaring together two pieces of bread with a good layer of peanut butter when the knock came at the door. His first thought was that it was Cart, driving over here to apologize and, of course, fuck around. Theo was holding the peanut-butter knife in one hand and the sandwich in the other as he marched to the front door. He had the vague thought that he might have to stab Cart to teach the motherfucker a lesson.

With a little juggling, he managed to get the door open, and then he said, “No. Not today.”

Auggie was standing there in a pink polo and blue chinos, sockless in loafers, his crew cut perfect as always. He stood with his arms folded, his shoulders hunched, and he said, “Hi, Theo.”

“I don’t want to be rude,” Theo said, “and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but please go away.”

Then he shut the door.

Theo went back to the kitchen, opened a can of White Rascal, and poured it into a pint glass he kept in the freezer. The whisper of cold air made him close his eyes, and he rested his head against the freezer. Then he went back to the front door.

Auggie was sitting on the steps.

“Auggie, come on.”

Auggie looked over his shoulder at Theo and shrugged. “I know I messed up. When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be here.”

“This is blackmail. This is emotional blackmail.”

“Would you feel better if I waited at the end of the block?”

Theo swallowed a scream. When he trusted his voice, he said, “Just get in here.”

Auggie’s footsteps followed him to the kitchen. Theo took a bite of his sandwich and then a gulp of beer.

“That looks good,” Auggie said. “Got one for me?” Then he put up both hands, a tentative smile crossing his face. “Kidding.”

They stood there. Auggie wiped sweat from his forehead. He still looked like he was trying so goddamn hard to smile.

“Do you want some water?” Theo asked.

“Sure.”

So Theo got him a glass of water.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Do you want to sit down?”

Theo closed his eyes.

“I mean, whatever you want,” Auggie said. “That’s all I was trying to say.”

“Just sit down.”

So Auggie sat.

“Do you want a sandwich?”

“I don’t know. Have you washed the peanut-butter knife since the last time I was here?”

Theo stared at him.

Auggie took a sip of water. Then another. He smiled and said, “This is