“Yeah, since we were kids. Like, before Welles,” he says.
We both step up to the truck window and Theo orders two lunch specials. He pays with a card, and I notice the He-Man design. Before he can slip it back in his wallet, I snap it from his hand and dash away.
“Hey! Okay, I know what you’re going to say.” His face is legitimately red right now and he flattens a palm over it, shaking his head.
“Theodore D. Rothschild. What’s the D stand for?Destined to become He-Man one day?”
“Ha ha. Give it back.” He lunges at me, and I pull his card into my body, hugging it against my chest while I whirl around, swinging my bag like it’s a mace in an attempt to ward him off.
In seconds, his arms are around me from behind, his chin on my shoulder and his hands working to unfasten my grip on his He-Man card. I’m giggling, and this is most definitely flirting. His arms are warm and he’s the perfect height against me, and I could play this stupid game of keep away for the rest of the afternoon if I could.
“Shows what you know. There’s only one He-Man. Clearly, I can’t become him.” His serious tone makes me laugh harder. Eventually, he holds me tight enough to lift my feet from the ground and his card slips from my hands. He sets me on my feet and scurries to grab it before I can. I didn’t have a chance. I’m too drunk on whatever just happened.
“Theo! Your order’s ready,” the man shouts from the truck.
“You mean He-Man,” I holler, getting some snickers from a few people waiting in line. Theo rolls his eyes at me and steps up to the window to get our food.
He takes the two bags and walks to an empty bench nearby. I sit facing him, curling one leg up and tucking my skirt under my thighs. I hold my hands out and he eyes me sideways before setting the second lunch bag on the other side of him.
“You really think you deserve lunch after that scene?” He’s playing, and it’s so nice to see this side of him come to life. It’s also stirring butterflies in my chest. And here I thought I was empty.
“I’m sorry. But it was hard to resist. You must admit, He-Man is a bit of a kid’s thing.”
He grimaces, but a smirk breaks through after a few seconds and he tosses me my bag.
“The guy only had one cold pop, so we’re gonna have to share. Maybe.” He bends the tab back and takes a long sip, eying me the entire time before pulling his lips away with anahhh. He hands it over, dropping the charade finally, and I hold the can to my lips, embarrassed that the first thought in my head is how this is almost like kissing. His mouth was just right here.
Who’s immature now, Lily?
“I kept losing my card. Like, it happened at least once a month. Anyhow, it pissed my mom and stepdad off, and my stepdad, Neil, is kind of a prick. He got a littletoomad about it my freshman year and he threw one of his whiskey tumblers at my head. Cut me right here.” He dips his head slightly and points to a faint scar that cuts across his right eyebrow. When he looks back up, our eyes meet, and that playful connection has suddenly morphed into something deeper. Lately, this is when we pull away—when glances last too long and drudge up painful memories. For whatever reason, I pledge to myself to hold on this time, to not look away. And Theo hangs right in with me.
“Anika lightened the mood, teasing that I should have to carry a kid’s card until I learn how to be responsible. We were freshmen, and I never lost my card again after that. But I keep getting the same card anyhow because . . . she picked it.”
He unfolds his wallet again and pulls the card back out, running his thumb over it. As my focus blurs around his knuckle, a strange wave of calmness cools me.
“We’re twins,” I say, drawing his attention to the skin above my right brow. I run my finger along the familiar line etched with seven stitches. “Rolling pin.”
Without pause, Theo reaches up and runs his thumb over my long-healed wound. I haven’t felt the scar in years, but his touch makes the skin feel soft and lovely again. My mom was enraged. My father sent me a Christmas gift, and she waited for me to come home and see it wrapped on the kitchen counter before she promptly threw it in the trash and picked up the closest object she could strike me with. In her head, it’s always been my fault he left us.
The worst part was at the ER after, when I thought she was racked with guilt only to find out she was terrified I was going to tell someone what happened. I don’t know how I knew to lie, that that’s what she wanted. But the words came out, and I kept repeating them to every person we saw.
“I ran into a tree limb.”
“I was running and didn’t see it.”
“I guess I turned around too late.”
Nobody batted an eye. My story held up. Mom hugged me while they sewed me up. And the minute we left the hospital, she let me go and we didn’t speak again for an entire week.
“Dean,” Theo says.
I quirk my brow under his thumb. He chuckles, and unfortunately pulls his hand away.
“The D. My middle name. It’s Dean.”
I give him a half-hearted, crooked smile.
“I like He-Man better.”