Page 39 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

Work was normal. Safe. It wasn’t Theo’s life, spiraling further down the drain with every waking second.

The library was packed to the brim. Between the hushed chatter and the air conditioning unit on high, it was almost soothing. Hell, someone even had muffins and coffee delivered with a note that read: I hope you and Mrs. Rosario like chocolate chip.

His routine kept him grounded.

Smile and nod, answer questions, direct traffic. Every goddamn thing demanded his attention, and that constant need to stay busy? It was good. Busy meant less time in his own head.

“Oh my god, that’s my sister-in-law’s cousin’s husband.”

And then there was that.

The Stop and Seek game was all the rage.

Theo couldn’t bring himself to check social media.

He didn’t need to. He heard enough of it in real time, secondhand commentary echoing through the nonfiction aisles.

Tourists treated Eunice like a hot spot, snapping pictures of random places he drove past every morning without even blinking.

The grimy corner store? The back alley by the Rite Aid? Wow . Historical fucking landmarks now.

The publicity was good for business, according to Mrs. Rosario and a few of their regulars. The stores and restaurants were getting a boost in sale.

Great for the economy, blah, blah, blah. Who gives a shit?

Seriously, though—he wanted the whole thing to disappear.

One of the little high schoolers had asked if he played, and when he blurted out no on instinct, she called him ancient.

Ancient .

He wasn’t eighty .

Theo smacked the top of the coffee maker, and the damn thing started percolating again. Caffeine was the only thing keeping him vertical, but every time he turned around his cup was empty.

His phone buzzed, and he had enough time to check the screen before the coffee stopped.

Alyssa

=^-^= tell me im pwetty

Underneath was a picture of her latest set of nails—blood red and glittery, with diamonds and shit dangling off the ends. Theo had always wondered how she did basic things. Like... how did she wipe her ass?

Theo

v cute

She’d been inviting him out for days, but there was no way. What would’ve been the point? The bars were the same, the people were the same, the alcohol was the same.

Drugs were the only thing that stopped the restless, bullshit thoughts long enough for him to function. If he didn’t have to work—if someone hand-delivered uppers and downers to his doorstep—he wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

Another text from Noah.

Regret breathed down his neck. Turned his hands clammy. He should’ve texted back—fuck, he tried . Every time Noah sent something, Theo typed out a dozen different replies.

I’m sorry.

I need to see you.

I liked the eggs.

He deleted all of them.

They weren’t good enough.

Theo put himself in this situation. Now he had to deal with it.

Theo dropped the stack of books on the circulation desk so hard he heard the computer shiver. Didn’t even look up when he saw the greasy wrist handing him the baby book.

“The kiosk is open,” he muttered, barcode scanner clicking as he aimed. “Did you need help with it?”

“You don’t know how to change a diaper, do you?”

Theo’s head snapped up, locking onto Ethan’s sleep-deprived face. The guy looked bad—yellow and white on his shirt, scruff more pronounced than normal .

“Because I don’t,” Ethan continued. “I put it on backwards and Carrie started sobbing.”

“Congrats, man,” Theo said. Lame as hell.

Ethan leaned over the desk. “Have you slept? Tell me what it feels like.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Theo’s mouth.

“Did… did you need me to babysit..?”

God, tell me no. I’m being nice.

Shaking his head, Ethan slunk down until his forehead pressed against wood.

“My monster-in-law is here for a week. I got to touch cars. Do you know how fucking exciting that is? I keep trying to sleep, but when I close my eyes, I hear Everrett crying.”

Theo rolled his lips together.

This kid was gonna get bullied.

“You named him after your granddad?” he asked instead.

“Carrie’s idea,” Ethan mumbled.

After another minute, Ethan straightened up. He cracked his neck and knuckles.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you without saying hi. I’m just—just so tired. Physically tired. I don’t remember driving here.”

“You wanna hang?” Theo asked. “I’m off in ten. You can vent and I can pretend I understand what you’re going through.”

Maybe if someone else filled the air with their problems, he wouldn’t have to sit in his own.

Ethan coughed out a laugh. “I wish. I’d feel too bad leaving Carrie alone. ”

“You need anything? Diapers? Clothes? Food? Baby-related things?”

“Our bedroom is filled with diapers. We’re good.”

Theo handed the book over, receipt hanging out the top. “Well, good luck. Let me know if I can do something.”

“Pray for me,” Ethan call over his shoulder, already heading toward the door. The hinges creaked as it shut behind him, letting in a quick gust of hot asphalt and humidity.

Theo’s phone buzzed against the desk.

Probably Noah. Again.

I miss him so much it makes me sick.

2169970991

one hour. u owe me closure. thats all im asking for.

Theo’s vision tunneled around the edges. His thumb hovered over the trash icon, teeth sunk into his lip. Deleting the messages didn’t work. Smashing his screen into smithereens didn’t work, either. The texts kept coming back, pinging his phone. Taunting him.

Theo didn’t owe Jagger anything . Not closure, not an explanation, not a single fucking word.

He couldn’t keep dealing with the panic every time he saw the number, though.

Rachel was right. He needed to deal with this, and then maybe he could move on. Maybe he could sit at his own dining room table in peace.

Swallowing the lump, he typed out the message before he could talk himself out of it.

Theo

when n where

He had been dealing with the ringing in his ears since he agreed.

All he wanted was peace, privacy, and someone to fucking hug him until his insides stopped threatening to launch outside of his body.

Did he get that lucky?

No.

Instead, he was forced to listen to Alyssa and Rachel’s back and forth while he sat on his bed with his head in his hands, willing his brain not to melt.

“I’m like, mega hyped about the revelation. Is it Jaggle? Jagger? Whatev. Is he hot? He’s gotta be hot if he’s a creep.”

“Lyssa, shut up.”

“I’m curious,” Alyssa whined. “I have to like, picture myself pepper spraying him. I’m gonna manifest it.”

Theo groaned into his palms.

“It’ll be alright, Teddy,” Rachel said, the weight of her hand on his shoulder too damn much. “Alyssa’s going. She’s got you.”

Alyssa wasn’t around when all of it happened. She wasn’t a friend then, just his dealer. She didn’t understand what the fuck was going on.

Theo couldn’t blame her for asking questions.

None of this was her fault .

It’ll be over soon.

Driving was something Theo could handle. Hands on the wheel, music blasting so loud the bass vibrated the entire cabin. He wasn’t even sure what band it was—couldn’t make out the lyrics.

Glancing over, he eyed his phone on Alyssa’s lap and turned down the volume a little.

“Did anyone text me?”

She flipped the screen over. “Nope.”

Just his fucking luck.

The one time he was looking forward to a text from Noah, there was nothing. Any other time he got one every half hour. Sometimes more. A week straight of looking at a conversation he desperately wanted to be part of.

It’ll be over soon, and maybe I can figure out how to text Noah without wanting to gouge out my eyes.

The mantra wasn’t helping anymore.

Alyssa tapped a button on his phone and the car went quiet.

“Real talk,” she said. “You want me to say anything to him, or like, do you need me for moral support?”

Theo choked down the bile burning his throat.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m here for the free food but I already told you: I’ll beat a bitch down. ”

“ I don’t know ,” he repeated, clenching the wheel even tighter.

Alyssa’s little claw of a hand landed on his sleeve, rubbing his arm through the fabric.

Thank god, she didn’t say anything else.

Ten minutes from the restaurant.

Don’t throw up. Don’t pass out.

Both were becoming harder and harder not to do. His vision blurred, oncoming traffic turning into smears of six o’clock summer sun and horns when he veered too far into the other lane.

Alyssa wouldn’t give him more pills.

It was just Theo without filters and he fucking hated it.

Alyssa’s phone rang—loud and sharp in the silence—and he flinched.

She put it on speaker. “Make it fast, I’m about the witness the downfall of man.”

Theo didn’t recognize the shaky voice on the other end.

“Lyssa. Can you… can you come get me?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her scramble to take the phone off speaker.

“What’s going on?” she squeaked. “What happened?”

Theo slowed at the light. He wiped his hands on his jeans, half-listening to the conversation. Half-afraid he was going to accidentally crash his car when it turned green .

“No, I’m—I’m with Theo. No, I’ll come. I’m coming now. Right now.” Alyssa hung up and turned to him, her eyes wet. Pleading.

“You’re like, my second best friend in the world,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t do this any other time. My family—”

Theo didn’t want to hear it.

“Go.”

When she didn’t move, he tried again.

“Seriously. Go. I’m not mad, Alyssa.”

“Swearsies?” she whispered, pinkie held out. He latched on.

“I promise. Go handle your shit. I got this.”

Alyssa pulled him into one of her infamous spine cracking hugs. “Text him and cancel.”

The door slammed before he could answer.

And then Theo was alone with the wheel, the silence, and a pit in his gut.

Theo circled the parking lot.

Twice.

A third time for good measure.

He had debated on canceling, went over all the pros and cons in his head. There was one pro and a hundred thousand cons.

Finally, he parked.

“I can do this,” he told himself as he unbuckled the seat belt. “It’s a public place. ”

Still no texts from Noah.

Instead of swiping the screen closed like he’d been doing for days, he left the thread open. Forced his eyes to stay on the white block of text sitting heavy on black.

His fingers trembled as he typed.

Theo

call me l8r

There.

There!

He did it.

One step in the right direction. One text he couldn’t have sent yesterday. His heart didn’t stop racing, but it tripped over itself in a different way—chest hollowing out just enough to let in air again.

It wasn’t pretend anymore.