Chapter Fifteen
FIFTEEN
Theo catches up before I reach the old carriage house, where I can see Maddox waiting.
“Is this where you guys finally admit you’re still friends?” I say.
One corner of Theo’s mouth quirks. “You’re too good of a detective, Lil.”
“No, you two are just really lousy at hiding it. I’m not sure why you’re pretending you aren’t friends, but it’s none of my business, especially if it’s…more than friendship.”
“More? Ah.” A look that almost seems like regret before it vanishes in an easy smile. “Nah, nothing like that. We’re friends. Very good friends.”
I head toward Maddox, who says, “We shouldn’t be out here for long. I’ve set a timer for fifteen minutes.”
I look at Maddox. “You recruited Theo to help look after me, right? To keep your promise to Cecilia.”
“Yeah, that’s why I showed you around that first day,” Theo says. “I saw Cecilia heading for Maddox with you, and I knew I’d be better at giving the tour. And I wanted to help him look after the new girl because it’s really not his thing.”
“Oh,” I say, and hope I hide my disappointment. “Okay, so is there some other way we can do this? I understand you owe Cecilia, Maddox, but you guys really don’t need to pretend to be my friends to do that.”
“Pretend?” Maddox says, face scrunching up.
“Uh, Lil?” Theo says. “It’s been over a month. I’m not still having breakfast with you every day because of Cecilia. And Maddox isn’t sharing his gummies with you because of Cecilia. Though…not sure I’m keen on that part. They are prescription. I’m not even sure you need them, Mads.”
Maddox makes a noise, as if warning Theo off, and now it’s Theo stuffing his hands into his pockets, looking something I’ve never seen Theo look: abashed.
I’m drinking all this in, like I did earlier, the way they act around each other when they stop pretending they barely talk. The vibes are so different. They’re different.
“As you figured out, we’re obviously still friends,” Theo says. “As for the charade, it’s because of the Westdale Optima thing. Maddox and I knew we’d be expected to compete, and we don’t do that.”
“Compete?”
Theo’s expression goes firmer than I’ve ever seen it. “We’ve been friends since we were, what, five?” He looks at Maddox.
“About that.”
“And when you’re high achievers from high-achieving families—rich high-achieving families—everything is…”
“A fucking competition,” Maddox mutters.
“Even when the other person is your best friend. Even when you aren’t into the same things.
Oh, Maddox, I hear Theo’s doing really well in basketball.
Why don’t you try out for soccer—your cousin played for Barcelona.
Oh, Theo, I heard Maddox won the short-story competition at school.
Directors should also know screenwriting—why don’t I hook you up with a mentor? ”
“Fucking endless,” Maddox mutters.
“And we hate it. So we refuse to compete with each other.” Theo looks straight at me, like he’s saying something I might not understand.
I nod. “You decided Theo would go for Optima, and Maddox would reap the benefits if he wins. And it helps if you don’t appear to be friends anymore?”
Theo glances at Maddox. “We…went through a rough spell a couple of years ago. We worked it out shortly before we came to Westdale, but we decided to keep faking it.”
My gaze moves from one to the other. Theo has this slightly wide-eyed expression, selling the honesty a little too hard. Maddox isn’t even looking at me.
“And that’s it?” I say. “Theo aiming for Optima is the entire reason for the charade?”
“Pretty much,” Theo murmurs.
“Pretty much,” I repeat. “Weird, because it seems like a lot of work to win something that Theo was already the lead contender for.”
Maddox meets my gaze. “Yeah, there is more. We’re just not ready to talk about that.”
“We promise it has nothing to do with you,” Theo says.
Maddox gives him a look, and Theo gestures, almost like private sign language, though my interpretation is something like What the hell do you want me to tell her?
Maddox locks gazes with me again. “We aren’t using you. I promise that. It currently has nothing to do with you, but if that changes, we’ll let you know.”
“Just…give us time,” Theo says. “It’s tricky.”
“And you don’t know me well enough yet.” I hold up my hands against Theo’s protest. “That’s a fact. I didn’t ask what this other thing is. I’m not owed answers unless I’m in some kind of danger because of it.”
“You’re not,” Theo says firmly…and Maddox gives him that same look, which earns him more dramatic Theo gesturing.
“We will make sure it doesn’t affect you,” Maddox says. “For now, that’s all I’m comfortable saying.”
“And that’s fine. Really.” I look from one to the other. “I’m not trying to interfere here. That’s part of why I wanted to understand what’s between you two. So I don’t interfere.”
“You’re not,” Theo says. “I’m at school with my best friend and need to pretend we’re barely on speaking terms. That’s rough.” His voice softens. “You’re helping, Lil.”
“I just want you both to know I’m not shoehorning my way into your club.”
Theo grins. “No? We have a clubhouse.”
I laugh and shake my head. Then I see the look on Theo’s face.
“Wait,” I say. “You actually have…?”
“A clubhouse? Of course. Messaging is fine, but we’re not going a year without talking.” Theo leans toward me. “Slip out during study hour tomorrow. Meet us here.”
“And time’s up.” Maddox lifts his watch as the timer goes off. “I’ll go around the side. You two can just head in the back door—and if anyone wonders what you were doing out here together?”
Theo’s grin grows. “Let ’em wonder.”
—
I eat in my room, but I’m not alone. Isolde and Polly show up with trays, and we have a private dinner party. Allegra joins us after she eats, because apparently, eating in bed is really not an Allegra thing. Theo comes by later with junk food and booze.
I’m about to open a canned cocktail when I get a text from Maddox telling me to check my pain meds and make sure they’re compatible with alcohol, and I have to resist looking around for hidden cameras.
But as I read the text, Theo quickly says the same thing, and I know exactly what happened.
Theo said he was bringing booze; Maddox warned him they might not go with my painkillers; Theo forgot to mention it until he saw me checking my texts, Maddox having known he’d probably forget.
I have to smile at that. I’d moved around too much as a kid to still know anyone from childhood, but I love that dynamic in books—the lifelong friend who understands you better than anyone—and I love seeing it playing out with Maddox and Theo.
Maybe I should be envious. I could even be jealous.
I’m neither. I’m happy for them, and “secretly still BFFs” is a much better story than “former BFFs who don’t talk anymore. ”
After the Liliths leave, Theo brings me a hot-water bottle, which he says I might need for my aches and pains.
He also checks what the doctor gave me, and suggests I take the sleeping pill if I need it.
Then he brings me both a pitcher of water and a bottle of juice.
It’s all super-sweet and considerate. Is it any less sweet or considerate when I see him consulting a list that I suspect came from Maddox?
No, it is not.
—
The next day, I head outside during study period. Theo is waiting for me behind the carriage house. Maddox has gone on ahead.
To get to the clubhouse, we have to walk through a stretch of forest to an open wildflower field.
Theo explains that it had once been a pasture, back when students brought their horses with them.
Even after the era of cars, many had their own horses.
That ended about twenty years ago. Oh, rich kids still ride—I remember that newspaper photo of my mom—but the school isn’t going to tend their horses for them.
It’s one of many over-the-top luxuries that Theo says his dad waxes nostalgic about, complaining that tuition has continued to rise while perks disappear.
There’s a reason for this history lesson.
The clubhouse is located in the old stables.
The main part has been hollowed out and serves as a garage for student cars.
But there’s no longer any need for the apartments over the stables where the grooms would have lived. They’re all boarded up. Except for one…
The clubhouse.
The minute I see it, I have to bite back a laugh.
I’ve seen photos of mansions, the kind of thing people pass around online as examples of excess, and I remember one of a teen boy’s “leisure room.” Plush couches, custom-made gaming chairs, a wall-sized TV, and every gaming system known to man.
It had multiple temperature-controlled fridges, vintage pinball and arcade games, and walls covered in posters of women that required discreet blurring.
This is the down-market version, the kind normal teen boys might have.
There’s a shabby loveseat and a ratty recliner, a monitor with a crack in the corner, a dented bar fridge, and a game console older than the one I sold for fifty bucks. No posters of women, dressed or undressed. No decorations at all…unless you count the pyramid of beer cans in the corner.
“Oh my god,” I say. “This isn’t just a clubhouse. It’s a movie set.” I turn to Theo. “What are you filming? A don’t-hate-the-rich PSA? ‘Theo Dubois and Maddox Moreno Are Regular Guys, Just Like You’?”
Theo flips me a cheery middle finger. “We found it like this. Needed some dusting, but it cleaned up fine.”
“Did you inherit the beer-empties pyramid, too?”
“Nope. That’s all mine.” He opens the fridge door to show off a selection of cans. “Take your pick.”
I reach past him for a soda. “I hate beer.”
Maddox, who is slouched on the loveseat, holding a game controller, lifts his free hand.
“Beer or Coke?” I ask.
“Coke,” Theo says. “He makes me drink alone.”
“I can’t drink with my meds,” Maddox says evenly.
Theo shifts, as if holding back a grumble, maybe something else about Maddox not needing them.
Theo reaches past me for a beer. I take out a soda for Maddox and then get a better look at him.
He’s in the shadows, where he’s always most comfortable.
He wears a T-shirt, his lean muscles visible, and he’s slouching, long legs stretched out, motorcycle boots resting on a milk crate.
When he turns back to his game—one of the old Zeldas—his dark hair curls over his face and spills onto the couch as he reclines.
At a soft noise beside me, I turn to see Theo smirking. He waggles his brows, and I realize it must have looked like I was checking out Maddox.
Okay, I was checking out Maddox.
Without turning from his game, Maddox pats the spot beside him, just like at the bench, and I slide into it and hand him his soda.
He pops it open with one hand and shifts, making sure there’s room for me, our legs brushing.
He reaches to squeeze my knee, just a quick gesture of reassurance, but Theo makes that damn noise again, and when I look over, he’s smirking that damn smirk, like a matchmaker whose work here is done.
I do not understand Theo Dubois. One minute he seems to be flirting with me, and the next he’s nudging me toward his best friend. Which is it?
It must be the latter. He’s matchmaking, and the flirting is my imagination, because no guy is going to do both, right?
Right?
Maddox reaches beside him and picks up another controller. “You play Mario Kart?”
“I do.”
“Theo? Grab the cartridge and the third controller.”
Theo pops Zelda out and Mario in—the cartridges make it a very old system indeed. Then he plunks down on my other side.
“Theo!” I say. “This is a loveseat, not a couch.”
“Just scooch over.”
“I can’t scooch anywhere except Maddox’s lap.”
I regret that as soon as I say it.
Theo gives a low laugh. “Guess Lil’s sitting on your lap, Mads. How will you ever survive?”
“Ignore him,” Maddox says and shifts, with his right arm going up along the back of the couch, controller held in his left hand. “There. You’ve got a bit more room.”
I ease over under his arm, which he rests partly on the sofa, partly on my shoulders. Theo pushes back until he’s seated, though I’m right up against him, too, from knee to hip to shoulder.
“There,” Theo says. “See? It works.”
Maddox shakes his head. “Leave her alone and start the damn game.”