March 10, 2013
FLINT, MICHIGAN
“You broke your finger, not all of your limbs,” Theo said, as Rowan crawled into Theo’s bed and stretched out, inconsolable.
“I basically broke all of my limbs if I can’t play hockey.” He looked distraught, and Theo knew he was. When you’re a hockey player, not playing is torture.
“I think you’ll survive.” Theo got into bed with him so he could spoon him. School was over for the day, and Theo drove the two of them back to his mom’s apartment since they didn’t have practice that evening. It was a good thing, because Rowan needed to be coddled, apparently.
“Think about how bad it would be if you couldn’t play, Teddy.”
“I’m sure I’ll get injured at some point.” He didn’t want to take a puck to the hand the way Rowan had, but hockey was dangerous. It was only a matter of time.
“And it will be awful to play without you.”
Theo was sad that Rowan would be benched for weeks.
Being on the ice with him was always unreal.
When he thought about whether the sacrifice he and his mom made for him to play in major junior was worth it, all he had to think about was how amazing he and Rowan were together, and it was perfectly clear that he made the right decision.
“Let yourself heal all the way, alright? Don’t rush yourself back.”
“Will you carry my books to class?”
“No.”
“Will you kiss it better?”
Theo gently guided Rowan’s splinted fingers to his lips.
“Will you make me a sandwich?”
Theo smiled, liking the way Rowan needed him. Being the focus of Rowan’s attention always made Theo feel special. Chosen. Plus, Rowan was sweet when he was needy.
“You don’t want to nap?”
“Too keyed up to nap. I need to run laps or something.”
“You’ve had a broken finger for, like, two days. You can’t be going stir-crazy yet.”
“So…yes to the sandwich?”
The shift in the tone of Rowan’s voice told Theo that he had a smile on his face. The one that could get Theo to go to the ends of the earth for him. And something about Rowan needing him activated that instinct into overdrive.
“Alright. If you keep me company.”
They headed into the kitchen, and Rowan hopped up to sit on the counter. Michelle had scolded him for it in the past, but she wouldn’t get home from work for at least another hour, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. If it made Rowan happy, Theo would let him do whatever he wanted.
Theo pulled out bread and lettuce. He sliced a tomato and grabbed last night’s rotisserie chicken from the fridge.
He found the chipotle mayo, and before he put the second piece of bread on top, he salted and peppered it.
It was, objectively, a masterpiece. He cut it into triangles and slid it over to Rowan, who beamed at him as he took a bite.
“Split,” he said, nudging the other half back to Theo. Theo wasn’t all that hungry, but he took it. If he’d made himself a sandwich, it would have probably been a PB&J. He didn’t whip out next-level effort for himself.
He ate his half of the sandwich while he listened to Rowan compliment him, a mouth full of food the entire time. And when they finished, Rowan pulled him in close, wrapping his arms and his legs around him.
“No one takes care of me as good as you do.”
Theo was sure it was hyperbole. Still, he pressed his nose to Rowan’s neck and breathed him in. Maybe he wasn’t the next great thing the way Rowan was, but he didn’t need to be. He just needed to be worthy of Rowan, to bask in his vibrant glow. Everything else would figure itself out.