Jackson’s crying wakes me up. He’s trying to suppress it, but it keeps slipping out. He sounds a lot like me the past few days, how I’d give in to the grief but make sure I wasn’t loud enough to draw attention from those who think words will make me feel better. I can’t turn around because if the bed creaks, he’ll know I’m awake. I don’t know how to comfort this outsider.
Jackson, like me, loves you. Also like me, he is stuck in this universe without you. I know what you’d say: there are limitless alternate universes. Is there one where you’ve decided to watch over Jackson from the afterlife? No, that’s wrong. Even Jackson said you were always talking about me. I refuse to believe I’m living in a universe where you’re not even with me in death. I refuse to believe that you’re hurting for him right now as he cries, tilting your telescope a little bit to the left to find me wide awake, not doing anything to comfort him. You must think I’m the worst human ever, and I swear I’m not. I’ve made some mistakes, sure, and if you’ve already caught on, I’m sorry, but I can’t reverse time and undo them. You’ll have to forgive me.
That’s assuming you’re in this universe, that you’re watching, Theo.
HISTORY
Friday, October 31st, 2014
The haunted mansion jigsaw puzzle I’m piecing together with Wade on Theo’s bedroom floor is really coming together. I’m not sure if this is good or bad. It’s a two-hundred-piece puzzle we’re spending time on instead of partying with everyone else on Halloween.
Wade looks up, holding the piece needed to crown the ghost king, tapping it against the shattered windows of the mansion. He’s dressed as Doctor Who. “Hey, Theo? Would you mind hurrying the hell up?” he asks. “How often does Halloween land on a Friday?”
“More so than it lands on Friday the thirteenth,” Theo says without missing a beat. He’s not even fully dressed up yet. He’s still at his computer, reworking his early-admissions essay.
“I was eleven when I said that,” I moan. “Let it go.”
I love Theo, but I also really love Halloween. There’s a party in Brooklyn with fog machines and karaoke and a deejay and, above all, a costume contest we’re all trying to get to, but Theo’s essay is due at midnight. He was going to submit it at 7:00 until he made the big mistake of reading it one last time. Turns out he no longer believes in everything he spent the past month writing about. Now it’s 9:45—odd minute—and we’re still here in his fog-less, karaoke-less, deejay-less room.
At least there are costumes. No one here is really a fan of Doctor Who. But Wade is wearing this tweedy jacket, red bowtie, matching fedora, and carrying around some wandlike stick—all because of Shania, the party’s host, a big Doctor Who fan and Wade’s latest crush. Since Wade doesn’t care about the character, a bet has started up. Every time Wade is called “black Doctor Who,” Theo owes Wade a dollar.
Of course, Theo and I are in the greatest getups this universe has ever seen: zombie pirates. It’s a tribute to our relationship, obviously, but it’s also just stupid, goofy fun. Tonight I’m Griffy the shipmate, who was slain by One-Eyed Theo the Bloody—except Theo still doesn’t have a single drop of fake blood on him that didn’t come from hugging me.
“How much more time do you need?” Wade asks. “I’m sure your essay is fine.”
“If I were shooting for ‘fine’ we would’ve been out the door a week ago,” Theo says, spinning away from his laptop to glare at us. “Everything could change if I get everything right here, okay?” He rarely gets this fed up. In his eyes there are few emergencies in the world worth freaking out over. “I would have to be really dumb to think I’m the smartest dude out here. There are so many candidates more qualified than me, and I’m not counting on them screwing up their essays for me to get in. I have to be the best.” He hides his face in his hands. “Sorry. You guys should probably head out without me.”
Wade glances at me, silently asking if we should leave.
“You go ahead,” I tell him. “Good luck with Shania.”
“Good luck with the essay, Theo,” Wade says. “I’ll send you the black Doctor Who bill.”
Once he bounces, I kneel in front Theo, taking his hands in mine. I see his eyes are red. My own eyes widen. “What’s going on?” This is the closest I’ve ever seen him come to crying.
“It’s the changes, Griff. I now have it in my head that I want to be in college by next year. I know it’s not all good things if I get accepted. It’s a year away, and I already know I’m going to miss you so hard.” Theo sinks to the floor with me, wraps my arm around his shoulders, and rests his face against my chest. “You know I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I love the idea of college, too. I hope that doesn’t break us. I just always sort of thought high school was this game with scores that don’t matter, but I’m wrong. The right people are paying attention. In some alternate universe where I didn’t get off on being top of the class, I probably would’ve slacked and missed out on this opportunity.”