TW: abusive language and homophobic slurs (see Author's Note for summary)

Theo pulls up in front of Jessica’s dance studio a few minutes before her practice is finished, so he puts his car in park and lets himself recline in his seat. His head is still spinning from rehearsal even though he managed to get his heart to calm down by now. He wishes he understood why he felt like this.

When rehearsal ended, Julian wouldn’t make eye contact with him; he looked so awkward, almost scared. Theo had to admit that he was grateful for a moment to himself now in the parking lot, but he felt a pang of guilt when he thought about Julian’s pained expression.

Theo told himself he wanted to do the stage kiss for the sake of the show, but he knew already that if he was uncomfortable, he could just tell Mrs. Reba and skip it for the day. He didn’t have to kiss Julian. He could’ve said something. So why did he let him go through with it? And possibly more importantly, why was he especially nervous when it was Julian, but not Elena?

There is a knock at his passenger window. He turns to see Jessica, wearing a sports bra and leggings with her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her cheeks are flushed from the exhaustion of her dance practice. He fumbles to unlock the door for her and gives her a small smile when she hoists herself into the passenger and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Ready to go,” she states, shoving her duffel bag between her legs. “What’s for dinner?”

“Um, I think my mom is making spaghetti,” Theo says as he puts his seat upright and puts the car in gear. She pulls out her phone and checks her notifications. The car ride passes in relative quiet.

When they pull into Theo’s neighborhood, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a t-shirt and a fragrant body spray. She makes herself presentable and pulls her hair out of the ponytail to braid it quickly. By the time they’re walking up the driveway, no one would suspect she had just looked like she ran a marathon moments ago.

“I’m home,” Theo shouts into the foyer, “and I brought Jess, like I said I would.”

“Still cooking!” his mom hollers from the kitchen. “Your dad should be home from that interview in a few.”

They walk into the kitchen just as his mom pours boiling noodles into a strainer in the sink. A fresh flume of steam bursts into the air and she cranes her neck to the side to avoid the heat. On the stove, there’s a pan of sauce with small meatballs bubbling at the surface. The oven light illuminates a pan of garlic bread, presumably bought frozen.

“Hi, Mrs. McKraken. It smells delicious!” Jess says politely as she moves to get herself a glass of water. She knows where most things are in the kitchen, since she and Theo have essentially been dating for four years.

“Thank you, sweetie. I’m glad you could join us tonight,” his mom says, turning to place the empty pot back on the stovetop.

“Thank you for having me. I just wish I looked a little less disheveled,” she says with a small laugh while tugging at the edge of her t-shirt to illustrate her discomfort.

“We’re just happy to have you, sweetie. Plus, I think you look lovely. Theo, don’t you think she looks lovely?” his mom asks him.

Unfortunately, he’s lost in thought, absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of the kitchen tablecloth. He’s still thinking about rehearsal, about how his heart had fluttered when Julian was so close to him. How it had felt so much like when he and Jess shared their first kiss.

Wait, Jess. His eyes snap to his mother when he hears his name.

“Hm?” he asks, having not heard any of their exchange.

“I said,” his mom starts, sounding more annoyed, “doesn’t she look lovely?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. She always does,” he says in a monotone voice, having repeated the same routine of compliments every time he brings her over for dinner after dance practice.

His mom rolls his eyes at him. “Take the bag salad out of the fridge to toss with some dressing, would you?” she directs him. He nods and goes to work while she and Jess have a seat at the kitchen table to catch up.

While they chat, Theo tosses the romaine lettuce in a wide bowl, drenches it with Caesar dressing, and shakes some parmesan cheese on top before mixing it with salad tongs. The repetitive action gives him another few moments to lose himself in his thoughts.

When Julian was performing with him, it felt natural. It felt like when they practiced at lunch. Everything was normal. But when they practiced, it was only words. They didn’t do the blocking. When Julian twined their fingers together, the same way Elena had done numerous times before, he felt his heart stutter. His hands were soft, but strong. He took his hand with such tenderness and care. Theo wondered if that was just because he was acting, or if he would be just as gentle if they were holding hands for real.

Wait. Why would they ever hold hands for real? What a stupid thing to think about. The only person he needed to be holding hands with was Jessica. Julian is just a friend. A friend who is a boy, by the way. He was just acting like a girl. That must be why he was feeling so confused.

The front door opens and heavy footsteps trail into the living room. Theo’s dad shrugs off a suit jacket and wrestles with a blue striped tie before kicking off his dress shoes and stomping over to the dining room table.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” his mom says flatly, standing up from the kitchen table to take the garlic bread out of the oven. “Jess, could you set the table with Theo please?”

“Of course, Mrs. McKraken,” Jess responds before opening another cabinet and retrieving a stack of dishes. Theo heads to the cupboard to get glasses and paper napkins.

Once the table is set, they all take a seat. Theo’s parents sit at opposite ends of the table while Jess and Theo sit next to each other close to the salad bowl. His mother makes the first move to fill her plate with pasta and the rest follow suit.

“How did the interview go?” she asks her husband. Theo’s father looks up from his plate only to glare at her without responding. He stabs a meatball with his fork and begins chewing with his mouth open. His mother sighs before turning her attention to her guest.

“Jess, Theo tells me you’ve had a lot of extra dance practices lately. Is there some event coming up?”

“Yes, our regional competition is next weekend. We’ve been perfecting our spin routines-”

“Who dressed the salad?” Theo’s father interrupts, holding up a piece of wilted lettuce between his fingers.

“Ah… I did,” Theo says quietly.

“Too much damn dressing, boy,” he replies curtly, tossing the lettuce off his plate and onto the table.

“Paul, don’t act like a child,” his wife scolds.

“I’m not in the mood to bicker with you, Sherry,” his dad responds shortly, turning to point an accusing finger at his son. “I’m just glad you didn’t make the rest of the meal, or my whole plate would be garbage.”

His father picks up another piece of soggy lettuce and throws it in Theo’s direction. Theo stares intently at his own serving, not daring to glance in his father’s direction.

“Paul McKraken, we have a guest,” his mother reminds him sternly as she sets down her own cutlery and balls her hands into fists to control her temper.

“Yes, I know that. Hello, Jessica. I see you’re dating my son again. I wonder how long this bout will last. What do you think, Sherry? Two months? Three?”

Jessica flinches and recoils, pulling her hands into her lap. She focuses her eyes on her plate in the same manner as Theo.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Theo manages to say, still without looking at his father.

“Are you drunk?” his mother asks, her anger steadily rising.

“Of course not, my dear,” his dad says while leaning back in his chair. No one says anything while Theo’s parents stare at each other with contempt. Theo reaches over and squeezes Jessica’s hands in her lap as a silent apology for their behavior.

“I didn’t get the job, in case you were wondering,” his dad says, sitting up to pick up his fork again and twirl some pasta. “Ageism. That’s what the union says. I don’t give a shit what it’s called.”

Theo’s mother decides to ignore her husband. “I hope you do well at your competition, Jess,” she says, smiling weakly at her. “Theo, how have your rehearsals been going?”

“They’ve been fine… we’re starting work on act two next week,” he says, picking up his own fork.

“It’s a bummer we can’t hang out as much, but it’s nice knowing he’ll definitely graduate with me,” Jess says to Theo’s mother quietly with a half-hearted chuckle.

“Well, I, for one, cannot wait to see the show,” his father cuts in. He gives Theo a sarcastic smirk before standing from his chair, snatching a slice of garlic bread, and heading to the fridge. Theo hears his father crack open a can of what he can only assume is beer.

“I just hope all that prancing around a stage doesn’t turn my son queer,” his father shouts from the hallway leading to the master bedroom. At that, his mother shoots out of her seat and the two begin shouting at each other.

Theo squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists so tightly that his fingernails leave crescent indents on his palm. Jessica reaches over and takes one of his hands in her own. Theo doesn’t open his eyes for fear of letting the tears escape.

His dad always managed to find a way to make him feel bad about something he is excited about. At this point, Theo should have expected it sooner or later. He cursed himself for thinking about holding Julian’s hand just fifteen minutes prior. He cursed himself for letting his heart flutter when he imagined kissing him for real. He scolded himself for looking forward to their lunch practices in hopes that their shoulders would touch.

The way he was feeling was wrong and dirty. Leave it to his dad to remind him of such. He hated himself for getting excited whenever Julian texted him. He hated himself for thinking about him when he should be thinking about his girlfriend. He hated himself for letting Julian get that close to him earlier today. He hated himself for ever letting himself think, even subconsciously, about anything else happening other than that stupid stage kiss.

Jessica gave his hand a soft squeeze. “I texted my mom to come pick me up, ok?” she says in a soft voice. Theo can only nod. “Do you want to go sit in your room until she gets here?”

He nods again before standing up, abandoning his overdressed salad. They climb the stairs without speaking, and they can hear the yelling match happening behind the thin bedroom door. Theo shuts his bedroom door behind them before flopping on his bed and burying his face in his hands. They sit in silence for several minutes while Theo focuses on taking deep breaths.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” his voice comes out muffled from underneath his palms.

“Babe, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Jess says, sitting on the corner of his bed to play with his hair.

What would it feel like if Julian played with is hair?

No.

Stop it.

There is something wrong with you.

What are you, fucking queer?

“If we can’t hang out here, we’ll find other times to hang out, ok? It’s not the end of the world,” Jess continues, twirling a longer strand of his dark hair around her index finger.

Theo sits up abruptly. “Please don’t do that,” he says, taking Jessica’s wrist to pull her hand away from his head. She looks at him with a curious expression.

They both jump at the blaring sound of a car horn. “That’s my mom,” she says. “Come with me to get my bag out of your car.”

He escorts her out of the house, and she leaves after planting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. He can see her lips moving through her mother’s car window, and he knows that soon Mrs. Turner will know all about the events of the evening.

Theo cringes when he reenters his house, and he wonders if the shouting has gotten louder or if it just feels that way. He goes upstairs and slams his door, locking it without a second thought. He takes solace in his earbuds, listening to loud, sorrowful music as he lets himself cry.