But it hadn’t happened yet.
Theo rounded the corner and two familiar voices filtered out into the hallway.
“—still doing that bullshit art of his, is he? How much does he make per piece, anyway?”
“It varies, Lloyd, but he won’t tell me exactly. I only find out when I read the news. His friend Diego usually tries to write the articles about him.”
“How ethical is that, keeping your best friend in your pocket at a newspaper? The free publicity for a buddy borders on a conflict of interest, so they’d both better watch it. The second someone discovers his identity, he’s—oh.” Lloyd’s head snapped over as Theo hovered in the doorway, ducking so he wouldn’t hit his head on the old, low frame. “Ted—”
“Teddy! When did you get here? Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way?” His mother leapt up from her chair and hurried over to him, immediately smoothing her hands along his father’s vintage black leather jacket. The way she pursed her lips told him she wasn’t pleased with his choice of attire: black T-shirt, black jeans, Air Jordans. Lloyd was wearing a three-piece suit, like he’d come straight from a lecture, and Eleanor was still wearing one of the designer pantsuits she favored for court days. They preferred that he dress similarly for these dinners.
But he’d never been that buttoned up.
“Hey, Mom.” He bent down and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “I did text when we leftandwhen we got here. Did you not get my messages?”
“I—” She blinked in confusion and then ripped her phone out of her pocket before frowning at her screen. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, Teddy, I don’t know how I missed those.” The lapse was momentary, and her frown was quickly smoothed away with a smile. “But I’m so happy to see you. You look really good.”
Lloyd stood from his usual antique armchair and extended a hand. “Hey, Teddy!” His steely blue eyes swept over Theo’s shaggy dark waves. “Your hair’s getting long, kiddo.” He slapped hisnephew’s shoulder fondly. “You working too hard in that studio of yours to remember that haircuts are a thing?”
Theo rolled his lips together.
Not this again.
Every single time he saw his uncle, the first thing out of his mouth was a comment about his appearance.
He opened his own mouth to say something terse in response but was quickly cut off.
“Lloyd—” Eleanor glared at her younger brother. “Lay off. He’s not one of your students. He doesn’t work at a firm and he can wear his hair however he wants.” She stood on her tiptoes and plucked at the curling ends of her son’s thick, dark waves with a smile. “I think it looks handsome. It suits you.”
But Lloyd was still grumbling. “Heshouldhave been one of my students. He has the talent and the brains for it. What a waste.” He sighed and shook his head before squeezing Theo on the arm again. “Ah well. At least that hair hides those Dumbo ears of yours, eh?”
Theo’s face slowly fell.
There it was.
Another reminder.
His earsweretoo big. Theydidstick out from the sides of his head. Hehadgrown out his hair to hide them.
He was always too big, too awkward, too out of place. His mouth was too wide, his teeth too crooked, his nose too large, his face too long, his brow too heavy. It was a wonder he didn’t have a permanent bump on his head from the number of times he’d knocked it on the doorways in this old-ass house once he’d hit a growth spurt in his teens. Wedging himself into seats on the subway was an ordeal. He usually just opted to stand instead, trying his best to make himself small and unnoticed in a corner somewhere. Trying his best to stay out of the way. To avoid the gaping stares. Avoid the attention.
He took up a lot of space.
He never fit anywhere.
It wasn’t like it was something he’d ever asked for, or even wanted.
He didn’t need his uncle, of all people, to be constantly pointing it out.
Andyet.
The feeling in his chest twisted tighter.
He closed his eyes and counted to three.
“Lloyd,” Eleanor said with a sigh. “Do you want me to talk about howshortyou are?” That earned her a glare in return, but she only scoffed and shook her head, taking her son’s massive hand in hers. “Come, sit with me, Teddy. Tell me what you’ve been up to lately.” She led him to a chair before turning to the nearby bar cart, pouring a glass of scotch, and pressing it into Theo’s hand.
He stared blankly down at the amber liquid. His leg bounced, and he clutched the glass so tightly in his fingers, he half wondered if he might shatter it.
