A three-headed snake
Maybe you're fucking scum
Don't you go psycho chum
I want you for the world
I want you all the time
-- Glass Animals, Pork Soda
Every other week now, his mother brought up Jessie, asking how she’d been and what she’d been doing. He couldn’t look Jessie in the face anymore, not because of what they’d done, but because she had no idea about the lies he’d perpetuated. He couldn’t even make himself tell her; every explanation came out worse than the last. I blurted out your name and now my mother thinks I like you, but don’t worry, she doesn’t know about the blowjob. He wanted to hit himself.
At least his mother hadn’t mentioned anything to his father, or he didn’t think she had. Ryan caught onto it by accident when he walked into the kitchen and overheard their conversation. Theodore had been helping her with the dishes, and of course, the moment she brought up Jessie, Ryan walked in.
“Is that your girlfriend?” his brother teased, speaking with a smirk.
If Theodore could, he’d punch it. “We’re not dating.”
“Yet,” his mother added. Her tone was loving and proud.
“Why don’t you invite her over sometime?”
The question put a shine in his mother’s eyes. The smugness on Ryan’s face was evidence that he’d done it on purpose, that embarrassing Theodore was the whole point of that suggestion, not because he actually wanted Jessie over. Theodore’s heart beat around a fire that boiled the blood in his veins. Christie’s name was on the tip of his tongue, every single one of Ryan’s carefully kept secrets stuck halfway up his throat. He could open his mouth and ruin Ryan’s life in an instant, but one deep breath kept him from exploding. Instead, he turned to his mother and said that was a great idea, that maybe he would have Jessie over sometime. His mother suggested Saturday after practice, so he’d ask her then.
Lying was always an option, but that would only make his mother reschedule the date. If he kept postponing it, she and Ryan would start to doubt him. Instead of making a mess of things, he asked Jessie if they could talk for a little bit—alone. His question got surprised glances from the other girls, but still Jessie agreed, curious to know what he needed to tell her about.
“I screwed up,” he started, as soon as they were out of earshot from the others. Jessie’s eyebrows bounced. “I told my mom about you and now she thinks there’s something going on between us. I didn’t tell her about that, but she knows we, like… hang out.”
“I knew something was wrong; you’ve been acting really weird these days.”
“Yeah, that’s what it is. She wants you to come over tomorrow after practice. I don’t think anything’s gonna happen; I think she just wants to talk to you.”
“We live right across the street from each other. Why doesn’t she just come over?”
“She wants you over. I don’t know; maybe it’d be better if you brought your parents. They could keep her busy.”
Jessie made a face at that, a combination of troubled and thoughtful. “You could tell her we broke up.”
“I didn’t even tell her we were dating.”
“Then tell her we were dating.”
“But she’ll definitely want to talk to you then.”
“Tell her it was a secret, that we started a couple of months ago and now we’re done.”
Hm. That could work.
“I’m sorry about this.” His eyebrows furrowed upwards, chest squeezing. “I didn’t mean to drag you into it. I hope you’re not mad at me.”
“Oh, I’m not mad, I just don’t want my parents involved. I don’t mind fooling around and stuff; I just don’t want them to know.”
“Yeah, I get that. I feel the same way.”
Her smile brought wind to his lungs, shoulders relaxing. His mother would be very upset, but he’d dug his own grave the moment he’d indulged her delusions. He wondered if Laith was that way too, quick to draw conclusions, connecting dots where there wasn’t a picture.
When he told his mother about the secret relationship and the subsequent breakup, she was crushed. Her shoulders dropped and her lips parted, eyes big and desolate. He felt terrible, but it had to be done; he just couldn’t put up with it anymore. As an afterthought, she came over and hugged him, telling him how sorry she was for the breakup. She told Henry over dinner while Theodore sat there, right across from her, heart beating out of his chest. Luckily, that just raised his father’s eyebrows.
“Don’t worry about it too much, son.” His father’s tone was friendly, almost joking. “Women are complicated.”
He didn’t think so; all his friends were pretty see-through, as were most people in school anyway, but he decided against saying anything, fake grieving. His parents were the complicated ones, blowing everything out of proportion, making it all much worse than it had to be. Jessie was simple; he could talk to her and any of the other girls without having to think about it too much, but every time he needed to tell his parents something, he had to put a mental script together and emotionally prepare himself at least a week beforehand.
He and the girls started hanging out at Nadia’s after school, under the pretext of group studies. With music playing in the background, they sat on the living room rug and talked, much like they did at school, but here, conversations got deep. They talked about how their parents had been stressing them out or how they’d gotten in trouble for a nonissue, bonding over their need for freedom. Theodore contributed to the conversation with commentary on his own family, telling them about what’d happened with Jessie a few weeks prior. It shocked them, but not too much; they all agreed that their parents would’ve had the same reaction as his mother, excited to hear about their dating lives for some reason. Daisy even came out to them at one point, prompting everyone to hug her and thank her for trusting them so much.
***
Ever since winter break had started, Ryan’s absence from the household had only grown. His room would go completely abandoned for days at a time, and when he did return, it was only for a few hours, maybe a night. He didn’t go to their grandparents’ for Christmas again this year, and didn’t even have to tell their parents about it; everyone just assumed his absence meant he wasn’t coming.
He came home accompanied one night. Again, Theodore heard them from his room, two sets of footsteps climbing up the stairs. Once they were in the hallway, he got up to look, peeking around the door frame. There were only two silhouettes, roughly the same size—Laith? He almost called out his name, but Ryan’s presence always discouraged him.
He stayed in his room, absently going through his phone, paying attention to any noise that might bleed through Ryan’s door, like music or laughter. As time passed, there was only silence. It was weird, but not enough to make him want to get involved. If anything, he could catch Laith on the way out, alone, and maybe get to hang out then. There were many things he wanted to ask. He waited in bed, scrolling through pretty pictures, eyes on the clock.
Last time, Ryan’s friends had stuck around for a good two to three hours, but now, half an hour later, he heard Ryan’s bedroom door, immediately followed by the bathroom across the hall. For a moment, there was silence, then the soft sound of running water. No flushing? As soon as the water shut off, footsteps came up the hall, heavy, definitely Laith’s. Theodore jumped out of bed and hurried to the door. Luckily for him, Ethel wasn’t upstairs today.
Laith stared back at him, a little taken aback, eyebrows high on his forehead. He’d been fixing a jacket over his shoulder, probably leather, the biker type with the spikes and the rivets. A hand came up to wave Theodore hello, but all he did in response was nod toward the inside of his bedroom, a silent invitation. Laith hesitated for a moment, standing near the stairs with uncertainty on his face.
“C’mon,” Theodore whispered, irritable and curt, which ultimately made up Laith’s mind and pulled him into the room.
When Laith slipped past him, tobacco and amber filled the air, this time mixed in with sweat and something else, a different scent altogether—someone else’s cologne. Ryan’s, probably. His heart choked him as he closed the door, halfway up his throat.
On his way to the window, Laith very briefly glanced around the room, a three-headed snake on the back of his jacket. The sound of the door clicking shut prompted him to turn around and see Theodore walk over, back naturally finding the glass pane. His hips leaned against the bottom frame, almost sitting on it. “Nice room.” The compliment was quiet, mindful of Theodore’s parents.
Theodore took a seat on the office chair, skepticism in every fiber of his being. A fleeting image came to mind, of his hands around Laith’s throat, but it didn’t last a second. It must’ve showed on his face though, because Laith’s eyes squinted, head tilting to the side.
“What is it, Theo?”
“Am I wrong about you?” The question was genuine, asked very quietly.
They stared at each other. When he realized Laith had nothing to say to that, he continued. “I didn’t think you’d lie to me. Guess I shouldn’t have expected that after all.”
“I’ve never lied to you.” Laith’s eyebrows furrowed. His voice had a hint of softness in it, almost tender.
“You’ve just slept with Ryan.” Those words cut through his own chest like a dagger, self-inflicted.
Laith dropped the stare. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?!” His voice jumped up a notch.
Laith glanced back up with a much colder look on his face. “I still don’t like him that way. I don’t even like him at all.”
“You fucking liar.” The swear slipped past him without a thought, shooting straight from the heart. It twisted Laith’s face with pain. “I hate what you did.”
“I know, but I’m not lying. What we have is… weird. I don’t know if I like it.”
“Of course you do.” He clicked his tongue, leaning back on the chair. “You wouldn’t do it if you didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t think it’d be this fucking bad!” Laith shouted through a whisper, body leaning forward. “Your brother fucking sucks!”
That put a wide grin on Theodore’s face. He almost burst out laughing. “Really?” His tone had completely shifted.
“Jesus Christ, he’s so…” Laith trailed off, head shaking. “He doesn’t listen to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to anyone. What did he do, anyway?”
Green eyes found him again, sharp in the dark. “You know, he said you’re a snitch.” Laith’s tone was graver now. “That you tell your mom everything.”
“If I did, you wouldn’t be in my room right now. We wouldn’t even have gone camping together.” Despite how tough Theodore sounded, what his brother had said cut deep. “You think I told her about the lake?”
“Fuck no. I don’t believe a single goddamn thing Ryan’s ever said.”
“I do think about it, though,” he admitted, a wickedness in the curve of his smile. “How much damage I could cause with the little I know. Sometimes I want to do it just to see what would happen… just to watch it go down.”
A grin slowly cut through Laith’s face, malicious. “It must run in the family.”
“What?”
“Destruction.”
Theodore held the stare, squinting. “Did he cum too fast?”
Laith scoffed out a laugh, his best attempt at keeping it in. “Nah, he just sucks. He’s fucking selfish.”
“You’re a potty-mouth, Laith.”
“Sorry.” Laith shrugged with a gorgeous grin on his face. “I’ve been bad all my life.”
That tugged the corners of Theodore’s mouth into a smile, big enough to round his cheeks. A surge of wonder flooded his chest with warmth, delighted to be in Laith’s presence. It made him feel understood, a conversation on the same wavelength, unfiltered sincerity. Everyone he knew had something to hide, but Laith was genuine on a different level, real. Talking to him was refreshing.
“Stop fucking Ryan.” And Theodore meant that with everything he had.
Laith nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll hate you if you don’t.”
Their eyes met.
“You gotta sweeten that deal for me, Theo; it’s too bitter to take just yet.”
“I’m bitter.” His tone was far too soft to convey any of it, though. “I trusted you and you lied to me. I specifically told you that you could do better than him, then what did you do?”
“Nah, nah, nah. I didn’t lie to you; I just don’t know that I can do better than him.”
“I’m sure you have in the past, so do it again.”
Laith tutted. “You’re assuming a lot about me right now.”
“And I’m right. Drop him.”
The delight on Laith’s face shone. “You’re a real piece of work. Did you know that?”
He leaned forward, elbows pressed to his thighs. “Stop fucking my brother. I’m serious.”
Laith held both hands up in surrender, grin wide and lazy. “Alright, listen—I’ll think about it.”
Theodore reached forward and shoved Laith’s knee, hard but playful, scoffing with a smile. It got a laugh in response, snorted out in an attempt to keep quiet.
“So what did you wanna ask me about?” Laith shuffled around the inside of his jacket, searching for something on the breast. “You called me in here for something. What is it?”
He’d really just wanted to see Laith’s face. “I thought you were dating the Hollywood boys.”
Laith shook his head, a pack of cigarettes revealed from inside the jacket. “Hell no; I don’t do dating.” A tap on the pack shot a single cigarette out, plucked between his lips. Pocketing the pack, he leaned away from the window, words muffled on the filter. “And the Hollywood boys are way out of my league anyway. They’re the rich type, thus the name. They’ll never even look at me, and that’s fine.” Laith shrugged, pulling the window open. A cool breeze blew into the room.
Shivers ran down Theodore’s spine—he didn’t have a coat on. “But you’re still chasing them.”
“Not actively. I wouldn’t go out of my way for that.” Leaning on the window again, Laith lit the cigarette. A bright orange flame glowed over his face, eyes ablaze with amber. Dark eyebrows furrowed as he puffed, burning the cherry.
Theodore stared openly, holding a breath in his throat. The moment the lighter flicked off, their eyes met, smoke piling around Laith’s lips, escaping into the room.
“The Hollywood boys are a frivolity,” Laith continued. “Privilege that comes with a membership at the DP. They’re always there.”
“The Dead Ponies, you mean.”
“Yeah.” Smoke trailed up, gathered around Laith’s silhouette. “Burman’s cousin founded the Hollywood boys.”
“An extremely influential family by the looks of it.”
“Diplomatic. They have a wide reach underground.”
Of course. A gust of wind blew in through the window, fingers cold over Theodore’s knees. “Why are you part of it?”
Laith shrugged, cherry burning bright. “It’s what I know.” An exhale, smoke blowing out of his nose. “It’s home, in a way. My roots are down there.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“We all are, but what does it matter? We’re afraid of car crashes, but we still drive; we’re terrified of murderers, but we still leave the house. If fear stopped us from living our lives, society wouldn’t have achieved anything.” Laith’s voice was quiet but angry, a hollow growl intense with emotion. This topic was clearly something he was passionate about. “Sometimes the fear and danger are worth it. The payout can be a lot more than expected.”
“Part of it is… fun, isn’t it? The thrill while it happens, the adrenaline rush of success. It’s addictive.”
Laith watched him over the cigarette. When the wind blew in this time, Theodore’s shoulders rose. He broke the stare to glance at the thick blanket over his bed, still in disarray from earlier.
“You’re just like Ryan. In that aspect anyway, which isn’t criticism; we like that about him. The recklessness is entertaining. He belongs with us.” Laith spoke while Theodore moved to the bed. He sat cross-legged on the mattress with the blanket wrapped around himself.
“I don’t think you realize I don’t know him at all,” Theodore said. “The Ryan you’re describing is a stranger to me.”
Dark eyebrows bounced once, eyes dropping to the cigarette in Laith’s hands. “No, I realize that. He’s a whole different person around you.”
“No, he’s a different person around you.”
Laith scoffed, lips curled into a joyless half-smile. “That’s probably what it is. I’ve only known him for a few years, after all. He’s transient, a mutant. When you think you have him figured out, you don’t. He comes out swinging just enough times to make you start predicting it, but the moment you do, he delays the swings just long enough to throw you off. Here’s the thing, though: he never misses.”
“Does he still hate you?”
“Both of us.” The cherry burned one last time, hand pulling the cigarette away from Laith’s face. Smoke shaped his next words. “And most of the world too. The only people he probably likes are Emily and Justin.”
“What did he say about me?”
“What hasn’t he said about you?” Laith leaned away from the window, straightening up. His hand twirled the cigarette butt between two fingers, eyes down to inspect it. “Here’s what the police call hard evidence.” With that, he tossed the butt out into the backyard.
“I take it you’re not going to tell me.”
A hand pulled the window closed, sealing the room from the cold. Then, Laith turned to glance at him. A grave look drew his eyebrows together, pain in the depth of his eyes. “I’d rather not use the word he used. It still hurts.”
His heart ached. There was nothing to be said, and even if there were, the lump that he couldn’t swallow wouldn’t let him speak.
They watched each other in the dark.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t agree with anything he said. You deserve much better than that,” Laith added.
His eyes watered, lips pressed hard together to keep from trembling. “You’re on the wrong side of this fight.”
“No, I’m not.” Laith’s confidence lifted twenty pounds off his shoulders, lungs breathing in deep. “Ryan is. If he gives you shit, let me know.”
“How?”
“You know how.”
Laith crossed the room. Theodore watched him in silence, how quietly his silhouette approached the door and pulled it open, but didn’t walk straight out. He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the bed one last time. The stare held very briefly, a stillness in the air. Theodore wished he wouldn’t go. He wished Laith would tell him what Ryan had said, pain and all, to confirm his own suspicions; a type of closure. He wished Laith would walk right back in, take a seat and stay up with him all night, talking about the dark, telling him of the tunnels. Without another word, Laith walked out and shut the door.
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