Page 1 of Caden & Theo

ONE

THEO

The world’s against me,I swear. I don’t even bother rolling my eyes at the hyperbole this time. Me? Dramatic? Never. But this sucks.

It’s the first official prom ever at Gomillion High, and unlike most other schools in South Carolina, ours decided to limit the event to seniors only. Meaning, as a junior, I’m left behind. Spectating. Watching my best friend get all dressed up for the night of his life while I sit here, sulking like a rejected promposal meme.

I’m on his bed, trying but epically failing to read1984. I’m pretending I’m chill, but I’m radiating “left-out little brother” energy, and I know it. Meanwhile, Caden’s jabbering on about the event and Alice, his “date.”

Did I mentally add air quotes around that word? Damn straight, I did.

Alice is fine. Nice, even. Friendly. But still—what the hell? Other people are going solo or rolling in squads, but Caden? No, he’s gotta go with a date. And of course it had to be Alice, with her blemish-free Black skin, silky curls, giant eyes, and perfect teeth like she eats whitening strips for breakfast.

None of this is rational, I know. Jealousy never is.

I tell myself it’s normal. I mean, I’ve known the guy since I was three. When his family moved in next door and our dads bonded over basketball, we became attached at the hip. Every day since has basically been one long Caden-and-Theo hangout. If friendship were a sport, we’d be championship-tier.

But if I’m being real—and I always am, even when I shouldn’t be—I’ve been in love with him forever. Like, first-boner-during-a-water-fight kind of forever. My first wet dream? His garage gym. Him shirtless. Don’t even get me started.

As for other firsts… if only.

“Theo, come help me with this tie. The damn thing keeps going crooked.”

I close my book and swing my legs off the bed. Of course I’m going to help him. He’s standing in front of his mirror, brow furrowed, mouth slightly open like he’s concentrating extra hard. He’s already dressed in a fitted black suit with gold-and-green accessories—our school colors—and I swear, the gold makes his dark brown skin glow like it’s been kissed by literal sunbeams. He’s so fine. Stupidly so.

“Geez, Cade, what did you do to this knot?” I mutter as I step close, fingers brushing against his collar.

“It looked right a minute ago,” he says, grinning. “And now it looks like a sad pretzel.”

I snort. “A pretzel that gave up on life halfway through the twist.”

He grins wider. “You love me anyway.”

Too much, probably.

“I tolerate you,” I say instead, tightening the knot and smoothing it down. “There. Fixed. Try not to dance it crooked again.”

“Only if my date can keep her hands off me,” he says, turning back to the mirror.

I roll my eyes, flopping back onto the bed again.

He notices. Of course he notices.

Caden spins around, leaning against his dresser, arms crossed. “You’re still mad I’m going, huh?”

I shrug. “It’s whatever.”

He frowns, and I hate that I made him frown. “You know if I could sneak you in, I would.”

“I know,” I mumble.

“I even tried to talk to Coach about it,” he adds. “Told him my loner friend needed emotional support.”

I laugh at that, despite the extra-hard thud of my heart that he cared enough to ask. “And Coach said?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Theo’s too smart to risk suspension for some sparkly gym party.’”

“He’s not wrong,” I mutter, smiling despite myself.