Theo
At first, it’s incredibly awkward as we trudge together to my car. He waits until I’ve clicked my seatbelt on to follow me inside.
Sam more or less stumbles into my car and grins at me from the passenger seat. He's lovely in his brown suit that compliments his curls, the perfect picture of formality, yet he carries the clothes like he isn’t used to them. As the rain starts falling harder, he shivers.
“One I’d think these stiff suits would be thicker, but no, I’m freezing out here,” he says.
I bite my lip to hide a grin.
“That’s why you're meant to wear a coat over it. Seriously, Wilcox, how have you survived this long?”
“Wearing comfy stuff. Sweats. Mittens and all the nice fluffy jumpers,” he replies like it’s obvious.
"Christ."
My heart is racing with the endless possibilities this night is offering. I mean, I was tired, but I’ve been going to bed so late this week, grading papers, that I don’t think I could even sleep right now if I tried.
“So, do you know of any good spots nearby?” I ask, glancing at him as I pull away from the Club. The last thing we need is George finding us outside.
“Um, I don't think we’re going to be able to leave the car soon, but yeah, there’s a chippy a couple of streets over, and a kebab shop too.”
I nod, “Hmm. Seems like the rain won’t cooperate tonight.”
He shrugs, in that infuriating way of his, “I mean, it’s fine. We could just talk for a bit.”
“Hmm.”I scramble my brain for any possible place I can take this bloke in the middle of the night. There is a sandwich shop I used to hit up now and then whenever I was in London after a rough night out.
I still can’t decipher if he proposed this because he thinks we’re on our way to hookup. So far, he's kept his hands to himself.
As soon as we’re off the street, he starts asking questions. I wanted to get to know him, so it works out. He asks about where I live, and then a little about my family. I try to give him the minimum possible, but then again, I kind of do want him to know me. Then, it’s my turn.
“So, Wilcox. Oxford or Cambridge?” I ask as we stop at a red light.He huffs, “What? Neither. Couldn’t afford them,” he laughs, a deep, confident chuckle that warms my cheeks,
“Couldn’t get in, either.”
Immediately, I feel ashamed for even assuming he went there like I did, but it’s just logical. I mean, George is pretty well off, and this is his only son, so it’d make sense. Besides, he seems smart, even if he’s not well-spoken.He shifts so now he’s leaning on the car door, watching me intently. The streetlights are dancing in his face, giving it a nice dimension in the dark, “I, uh, got out of Uni just last year. I had to work for a bit before I could afford tuition,”
I graduated from Uni three years ago. Only because I was fortunate enough to get in my first try, and then I did my best to take as many credits as possible each semester.
Always rushing through life.
I glance at him, “But George didn’t pay for it or…?”
He shakes his head and looks down at his hands. I force myself to focus on the road as I take a right, “No, he kicked me out. It was a huge fight. He wanted me to be an accountant or something posh like that. And I couldn’t.”My heart aches for him already, picturing him having to choose between his only family and doing what he loved, and I realise how lucky I’ve been, with parents who’ve supported me even when I didn’t deserve it.
I can’t help the wobble in my voice, “Sam.”
“S’fine, really. It’s all in the past.”
I stop the Jag outside the shop, “Wow. You’re mad brave for that. How did you get through it, alone?”
“I had my best friend, Andrea to share a flat with, so it made it cheaper. I was a bouncer when the money was tight, and I worked in a flower shop during the week,” he shrugs, his smile returning, “I guess I also ate a lot of porridge and ramen.”
I shake my head and turn in my seat to look at him. We’re so quiet, that the rain hitting furiously on the roof is the only sound for a moment. It feels somehow like we’re already naked.
“I’m sorry for assuming you had everything handed to you,” I clear my throat, and quietly I add, “Just like I did.”
It itches at me, the feeling of being too inadequate. We’re just too different. I think of all the debauchery, of my lame little privileged life, with take-out dinners and overpriced cocktails available at the snap of my fingers.He places his hand on top of mine on the armrest and it takes work to refrain myself from jumping. He brings me back to the present.
“S’okay. It’s obvious, George is loaded, yeah? It’d make sense that I would be like him.”“Yeah. I'm still sorry anyway.”
He spoils me with a shy grin, and somehow I believe him. That he doesn't see me as a spoiled brat. Only because he doesn't know me yet.The knot in my throat is getting bigger by the minute, and I’m afraid I’ll cry of shame, or compassion in front of him, so I slide my hand out from under his and grab my wallet, “Wait here, I’ll get us something okay?”
He shoves his card at me, “Here. I don't have cash but pay for mine, the pin…”
I cut him off and hold his gaze, it bothers me that he’d be irresponsible like this, giving a stranger his PIN.
“Sam. Don’t do that ever again.”
“But, I, uh,”
I climb out of the car, and before I close the door, I say, “I got this. And I meant it, don’t do that.”
How trusting and naive can he actually be? Yeah, he might be sitting in a year-old Jaguar, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be a scammer, or something worse. I head inside the shop. It's as crowded as it ever was back then, when I'd stumble in drunk out of my mind. It's nostalgic to go up to the counter, underneath the fluorescent lights and order for two now.
The smells of flour and sugar, the vinegar scent from all the pickles... the display case with the pretty cakes brings back a flood of emotions within me. Nostalgia, for the old me. Pride, for how far I've come. I wonder if he'll like the food as much as I do.
I end up getting us both a Salted beef bagel. I add a doughnut for him, and then, because I don’t know what he likes for dessert, I buy a couple of peach pies. I remember my mum used to be fond of them.
I can’t make up for all of those years he lived on skimp dinners, but I can make sure he goes to bed with a full belly tonight.Sam We’re outside his flat, and I’m not even surprised we’re in bloody Kensington. At first, I suggested eating in the car, but I could tell he wasn’t fond of the idea. He shook his head. “Sod it, let’s go to my flat. Promise not to murder me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nope. My murder shift starts at three a.m. You’re good.” I think I’ve been here once before, during a flower delivery for Lyla. Those days, where I’d spend all day driving around London, visiting offices and posh apartments endlessly hold some of my favourite memories. During those hot summers, I’d drink Coke and fizzy lemonade on the van, and vibe to her 80’s cd’s, because of course, the van didn’t have Bluetooth. The rest of the year, I’d heavily lean on cheap gas station coffee to survive the day. It helped me become familiar with every nook and cranny around London. So, it’s not surprising that I figured it out on the way back from the bagel shop. All t
I’m telling him about my cousin, who lives downstairs when he yawns and rests his head on the arm of my sofa, clearly exhausted. I don’t know how, but we’ve been inching closer as the minutes pass and our stories keep going on. It almost feels like we’ve known each other for a lifetime, and not just a few weeks. That’s how I’ve been told it works. Chemistry. Compatibility. Old souls reincarnating to find each other life afterlife. I truly don’t believe any of that rubbish, but he’s fun to talk to, and as far as I’ve seen, is the least judgmental bloke I’ve met. Every time I think he’s going to look outraged by one of my old Secondary school studies, he laughs instead. A musical, loud laugh that makes me blush. “Am I boring you, Sam?”, I ask as I glance at my wristwatch. It’s three A.M. already. “God no, it’s just-“ he says before another big yawn, “I’ve been up for ages.”
December 21st I feel like a proper fool as I sit at the piano and see Sam out of the corner of my eye. Tonight, he is sharing his table with a red-haired woman, chatting and laughing like they’re the only people in the room. She has her long fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he’s only looking at her. His big curious eyes focused on hers, the rest of us unworthy of his attention. I wonder why he didn’t think of having some class and going somewhere else. I close my eyes and breathe in, thanking myself for replying vaguely to his texts this week about visiting him. I school my face back to casual boredom, trying to stop my hands from shaking. These feelings of rejection, I can handle. I’m familiar with them. Thank Christ it ends here. I can’t look at him again. I start playing Chopin’s nocturnes to match my mood and try to mute everyone around me. If I can get this set d
SAM Staring at Theo during his set is probably more than I should be allowed to do, but I indulged anyway. Now that I’ve gotten to spend a few hours with him, I’m latching onto the slightest possibility of us dating. Or seeing each other again. His accent is posh, and all his mannerisms are too, but I find myself relating to the things he says. Despite our wildly different backgrounds, he’s still figuring out who he wants to be. He’s a little lost, but that’s okay. I can be his company, as long as he wants me there. “Hey,” Rose taps my hand, and holds her drink up to my face, “Try this cocktail. It’s insane.” I grin at her and take a sip directly from her straw, “Oh wow, the peaches are really coming out. Lovely,” She laughs, and she’s pretty. Her long hair flows down her shoulders and back like a silky curtain, and her eyes are sparkling now. I do not doubt that she deserves to find someone who cherishes her and wants to try every singl
Sam“I, Uh-no,”Theo runs a hair through his hair and looks at the door behind me, “Then what the hell are you doing here?”“I wanted to talk to you, you weren’t outside,” I babble because I don’t know what I expected. For him to throw himself into my arms? Maybe.Instead, his gaze is cold and bored.“You shouldn’t be here, this is an employee-only area, so,” he stands up and straightens his jacket. He’s the image of self-control, poised and composed while dismissing me like I didn’t talk to him for hours on the floor of his living room.I know better than this, though.“Look, I get that you might be confused since we hung out last week,” he explains, “But trust me, it was just a one-time thing. We had a fun, experimental night, part of living out your twenties and all that, but I think that’s what it is. Y
It’s unsettling to watch Sam’s demeanour change completely. From confident and tender to stiff and withdrawn. His eyes immediately focus on the floor, on the sofa behind me, they roam the room looking anywhere but me. It instantly reminds me of an older version of myself, one where I hid behind a glass closet whenever my father was looking my way. It’s heartbreaking, but I understand why it has to be this way.I wait for him to say something, but he stays looking down at the floor. It’s awkward, and for a second, I consider darting out without a word, but that’d be a recipe for disaster. Not that whatever this is won’t be messy, but still.“Certainly, I-“ I try.He ignores me, “Son, what are you doing here?”He nods obediently, “I was talking to Theo about a piece, Um, that I heard tonight. That’s all, yeah.”Oh. My. God. Is he being purposefully obtuse?&n
Chapter twelve Sam Theo is coming over. Theo Oblinger, Economics professor and classically trained pianist is coming over to my dingy flat for dinner, and then God knows what else we’ll get up to after. I didn’t think he would accept, and he went ahead and surprised me by saying yes. It’s only noon, and I’ve just gotten back from London but I’m already planning what I’m going to make for him. The whole train ride I dozed off and then started thinking about what I could make for him. One of the things I like about me is that I’m ace at cooking. When I was a student, I couldn’t really afford to eat out except for the occasional cheap takeout, and my curiosity to try good food pushed me to learn to cook. Of course, I’m not a pro and my knowledge comes mostly from internet recipes, but I’ve been told I make a good meal. Andrea used to love my cooking, and she’d often volunteer to buy groceries so
TheoI absolutely hate myself for being on my way to Brighton, instead of going home like I said I was going to. I’ve got no reason to be following through with this date, yet I still can’t help but go for it. Worst case scenario, we make out and never see each other again.I’m hopeless. It took me almost an hour to decide what to wear, and I still went back and changed one last time before leaving the house. The wine on my passenger seat is screaming “date” and although I don’t want to think of it that way, it’s pretty clear that for Sam, that’s what it is.I haven’t gone on a date for years now. Probably since I was still at uni. I was always more of an obsession for the guys that I was into than something worth knowing. Kevin took me to watch a film that he clearly wasn’t into, as all he did was yawn and caress my leg. Once it was over, we went straight