Theo’s Epilogue #4
“Thanks. We appreciate it. But can you at least do me a favor?” Diego began replacing the padding over the gash.
“You know my best friend, right? You remember him? His name’s Teddy.
Real tall, dark hair, has a big nose and huge ears.
Does art. Might have a new scar or two on his face, but I hear chicks dig that sort of thing.
” He carefully wound the gauze around Theo’s head.
“If you see him around, can you tell him to come back? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and I’m real lonely without him.
” When Diego tucked the tail of the long, cotton strip back where it belonged, he finally looked Theo in the eyes fully—and his lip quivered.
He rubbed his eyes angrily and glanced away.
“Will you do that for me? I miss him. A lot.”
Theo rolled his lips together. If he hadn’t locked his mouth shut tightly, he wasn’t sure what might have broken through the dam he’d been so desperately trying to construct in his chest over the last several weeks. But he finally managed a nod.
“Yeah. If I find him, I’ll tell him.”
It was a lie. Theo was fairly certain Diego’s best friend recently died in a horrific car accident.
He was dead and buried in the ground next to his father, Henry.
But it didn’t feel like the right time to tell him that.
He didn’t have the heart.
Without warning, Diego’s hand shot up to Theo’s hair and roughly yanked his face toward him so that they were almost nose to nose. Theo stared at him in shock, one eye wide.
“And by the way,” Diego growled through his teeth.
His grip was like iron and he pointed at Theo accusingly.
“Don’t you dare leave me. You think I can’t see you thinking about it?
I’m not an idiot.” He shook him for emphasis.
“If you follow through on anything you’re contemplating, just know that I’ll find a way to raise you from the dead so I can kill you again myself, so help me God.
Do you understand me?” His grip tightened on Theo’s scalp. “Do you understand me, Theodore?”
Theo’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and nodded slowly. “Yeah. Duly noted.”
“Great, thanks. Appreciate it.” Diego let go of him, and he sniffed and wiped at his eyes before patting Theo hard on the shoulder. “All patched up. Get dressed and let’s go downstairs, I’ve got tacos from Tío in the oven—he sent your favorites. What movie are we watching tonight?”
It was one year, nine months, and one week ago that Theo set foot inside a café for the first time. Diego had come over two days prior for July Fourth and nearly passed out from shock when Theo told him that he was actually going to go out in public.
Things couldn’t get much worse than they already were.
He might as well try.
They were grilling steaks on Theo’s rooftop when he brought it up, and Diego immediately insisted on helping him find just the right coffee venue.
“Bean Me Up, Brewtiful Morning, Jurassic Perk, Roaster Coaster,” he muttered, rattling off café names from some listicle. “Oh, hey, how about this one—you’re a huge Star Wars nerd, right? This place just opened.”
Theo leaned over and squinted at Diego’s phone. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. A themed café called Java the Hutt? How does that even make sense?”
“It’s a java hut—just look at the photos. A riff on a coffeehouse. Get it?”
Theo shook his head. “Absolutely not. Way too kitschy. Look at that décor—I bet their coffee is shit.”
The photos were insane. Every bit of wall space was covered in Star Wars memorabilia and mixed with flashing lights probably meant to look like stars or laser cannon bolts.
They barely had room for a counter and a few tables.
High reviews, though—but mostly from really nerdy usernames commenting on the ambiance and fighting about Star Wars fan theories among one another.
No one mentioned the drinks. None of those usernames or profile photos looked remotely like they belonged to a woman.
“It’s all about the gimmick and nothing about the craft. And I don’t think I’m a fan of that kind of clientele—they probably all hated the cinematic masterpiece that was The Last Jedi. Absolutely not.”
“Fine. Ruin my fun.” Diego scrolled down the list. “Is this one less pedestrian? More your usual kind of nerdy? It’s a literary reference. You read.” He tapped the name a few down from the first and opened up the website. “Surely it’s bougie enough for you, you fucking hipster.”
“Javawocky?” He reeled back in disgust. “Who the hell is coming up with these café names?!”
In the end, Theo settled for a normal-sounding coffeehouse called Uncommon Grounds that was highly reviewed and only a five-minute walk from his house.
He still wanted to pass out when he thought about going, but Diego pointed out that he could wear a mask.
He had a box of black KN95s on his counter, and Diego grabbed one from it.
“Here, put this on.” He shoved it into Theo’s hands.
“And let’s see…your hair’s grown out a lot, so we can work with that.
Hand me that cap, let me work some magic.
” Theo bent down and Diego helped arrange his hair over his right eye.
He pulled up his hoodie and pointed him toward the bathroom.
“Now go look at yourself in the mirror.”
Theo’s eyes flicked over to it. He’d pinned a few towels above it to cover the reflective surface there and in every bathroom after he made the mistake of facing himself a week prior, and the idea of sweeping one aside wasn’t particularly enticing.
“It’s okay. I believe you.”
Diego crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot impatiently.
“Hear me out, Theo: you look normal. Can’t even tell.
You look just like you did pre-accident during the pandemic when you stopped getting haircuts while we were all in quarantine, I promise.
You can go outside and no one will look at you twice. ”
Theo hummed nervously, but limped over and swept aside one of the towels all the same. And when he saw himself, he looked…
Fine.
He was fine.
He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.
His surgeon had given him the okay to not wear the gauze during the day anymore, and most of his stitches from this round were removed, though not all—not the parts where he’d torn them.
The swelling in his right eye had gone down enough for him to see a bit out of it now that some repairs had been made—though he didn’t love how his eyelid couldn’t open as wide as it used to.
Some of the tiny muscles and nerves were severed in the accident, and his doctors weren’t sure how much he’d heal and how much movement or feeling he’d ultimately regain.
But with his hair arranged like this to cover it, the cap and the hoodie concealing the scar on his neck and eyebrow, and the mask, he almost looked like he did before.
He saw himself again, or someone who looked a little like him.
He buried his face in his hand in relief.
“There you go, bud.” Diego grasped his shoulder. “See? You can go outside like this and no one will notice. It’ll be okay.”
The optimism was short-lived.
Diego had to work, and when Theo arrived alone at the coffeehouse he’d chosen, it was packed—turned out it was a popular spot for remote workers.
The music was slightly too loud and it seemed like everyone in there was trying to talk over it.
Every table was full and either covered with laptops, being used to hold meetings, or both, and the line to order was practically out the door.
Theo eyed the people around him nervously. The fact that it was this crowded probably meant they had good coffee, and he was already this far. He’d walked all the way over here, so he might as well try to order. He didn’t want to turn back now.
But it was taking a long time. Even though there were four baristas manning the espresso machines and two at the registers, the constant whir of the grinders and the gurgle of milk frothing and the hissing of steam wands all began to grate on him while he waited.
The more sound there was, the louder it seemed to get.
BANG.
He jumped. Right when one of the baristas pounded some espresso, someone behind him pushed too close and touched him, grazing their arm against his freshly healed right-side ribs, and he nearly leapt out of his skin.
His heart was beating so hard he could hear it in his own ears, and the longer he was there, the faster it pounded and the more frantic it got.
All of a sudden, he was lightheaded. He swayed on his feet.
BANG.
BANG BANG.
His palms were sweating, and even his left hand was beginning to shake. Someone turned up the music—unless he imagined it—and the person at the register yelled their order over the din.
The world blurred.
The floor shifted under his feet, the floorboards suddenly twisting and buckling like a ship at sea.
Theo started to lose his footing. He clutched his cane for dear life and leaned heavily onto it.
He was nauseous.
Something was wrong. He felt weird. Something was sitting on—or in—his lungs and had curved around his ribs, wrapping its hands around his neck and squeezing. Why was his chest suddenly so heavy? Oh god, he was having a heart attack, wasn’t he?