Mrs. Moretti clapped her hands. “Oh, you should! I’m making manicotti, and you know the Moretti manicotti is not to be missed.”
It was the sweetest offer imaginable, but I couldn’t accept it. Theo could see through my mask, and it was humiliating. “Nah, I can’t tonight, but I really appreciate the offer. Raincheck?”
Theo’s parents looked disappointed, but nodded in understanding. I looked at Theo, hoping he’d have his usual devilish smirk, but he didn’t. He looked worried.
Fuck. He can see it.
I had to get out of there. “See you soon, Big Boy. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Moretti!”
“It’s Anthony and Maria, sweetheart.”
I plastered on a smile and walked away, my legs nearly buckling from under me as I approached the glass door of the building.
I jiggled the lock with my keys. It would be very typical of Mom not to tell me if they changed the lock. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at the situation, itworked.
When I looked up, I could see the reflection of the Moretti Subaru in the glass. Theo was looking out the window. At me.
My breathing accelerated. I didn’t feel like I was in my own body anymore. My heartbeat thundered, but it didn’t feel like mine, because my body was on the fritz, working overtime as it braced itself for hell. My mind, on the other hand, was somewhere else. It wasn’t on this planet anymore. It lingered at the crease between this dimension and the next, watching as its old body opened the door and trudged up the dirty stairs to his old life.
I pressed my ear against the door, hoping to hear something. If I heard something, like fighting or screaming, I would leave and come back later. I heard nothing, though, so I unlocked the door and walked in. The apartment was dark, save for the light shining through the curtains. I didn’t hear my mom or Louie, and relief washed over me.
I tossed my bag onto my bed, then made my way to the kitchen. If nobody was home, then I could savor the time I had to myself.
I rounded the corner, turning on the light as I entered the kitchen, and shouted when I saw him.
Louie stood in the kitchen. Waiting. Watching me as I entered.
I froze where I stood, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe.
We both just stood there.
Chapter 11
Theo
Two weeks. Two fucking weeks, and Asher barely communicated with me. I’d text, and he’d respond with one-word replies. I’d pitch an idea to hang out, and he’d come up with some lame excuse.
Had I been that awkward at the end of freshman year? Could Asher tell that something was off and trying to avoid me?
I had news for him, too, but I didn’t want to text him. It was the kind of news that needed to be delivered gently so that I could do damage control. Asher was so protective of his privacy—he hated feeling like a charity case, so I knew I’d have to be delicate when I told him.
And that meant not telling him via text, and I was running out of time.
I texted Cody, and he said he hadn’t heard from Asher much either, but that he knew he was back to washing dishes at Fiorello’s.
Last summer, Asher’s schedule was packed. He worked two jobs, and the only time he wasn’t working was when he was at practice. His schedule at Fiorello’s had always beenWednesday, Thursday, Saturday. Considering it was Thursday, there was a good chance he was there, and if he was, we were talking whether he wanted to or not. Fuck this avoidance thing, if I was weird around him, then he should tell me. We’re best friends. We should be able to talk about shit—hash things out. Enough with the cryptic one-word texting bullshit. I hated that crap.
Fiorello’s parking lot was almost empty. I purposefully came fifteen minutes before closing so I could convince Asher to let me give him a ride home.
Please let him be working tonight.
I entered the restaurant, and the smell of marinara sauce with too much basil and old lady perfume nearly gagged me. The place was cozy with warm lighting, and old heartthrobs like Frank Sinatra crooned over the speaker. The host greeted me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Fiorello’s was a fancy spot off the main stretch in New Rochelle, and Thursdays were a busy night. I could only imagine how exhausted she must have been.
“The kitchen’s closing in fifteen minutes, but you can have a drink at the bar if you’d like.”
It dawned on me how strange it would feel to ask her if Asher was there, and if I could speak with him. She’d probably assume one of two things: either I was there to buy drugs from Asher, or I was his special someone. Neither of which was true, but he completely stopped responding two days ago, so I had no choice but to play the possessive boyfriend for a night.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, rocking side to side as I swallowed my pride and said, “Is Asher working tonight?
