Page 39 of Cross the Line

Theo focuses on the movement of traffic around them, eyes flickering from his rear view and side mirrors to Alec, whose tongue is protruding from his lips as he scrolls through his phone looking for a song. In his lap Rio appears to have fallen asleep, apparently as enamored with Alec as Theo is becoming. It’s a problem. A big problem, and one he doesn’t want to solve.

“Ah-ha. Perfect.”

The second the song starts playing, Theo's lips curl up in a smile.

“Livingston. Is that just for me?”

Alec neither confirms nor denies his song choice, and instead rolls the window down to let the summer air whip through his hair. This side of town is always cooler because of its proximity to the sea, close enough Theo can smell the salt on the air as it enters the car. Despite the fresh air, Theo finds himself warmer than ever, wishing he’d put a shirt on under his sweater so he could take it off. He settles for shoving the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his forearms and offering him a modicum of skin to cool off.

The familiar cadence of a violin hits and Theo takes a steadying breath. Ignoring the prickle of anxiety that comes with drawing any kind of attention to himself, he opens his mouth and sings. He starts quietly at first, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he hears Alec belt out the chorus. He’s absolutely horrible and doesn’t seem to care, and somehow it makes Theo feel braver.

When the last chorus begins, he sings louder. Not quite as loud as Alec, but then again, no one is ever as loud as Alec. As soon as the song ends, Alec puts on another one. Whether by coincidence or choice he’s put on Theo’s current favorite song. Without overthinking it he sings along with Alec again, his voice loud enough to be heard over the radio this time.

Outside the car traffic whizzes by, but inside the car, there’s nothing but Alec and Theo singing as the breeze whips through their hair. It occurs to Theo he hasn’t felt so happy or free in a long damn time. Something about this moment feels like a photograph come to life: Alec’s head tipped back and his curls everywhere, the scent of summer in the air, and the freedom of the open road. With every word he sings, the smile on Theo’s face grows, and he allows himself to get caught up in the melody while he turns into the shopping center. His own voice drops to barely above a whisper, unable to stomach the idea of the people walking to and from their cars around them being able to hear them. Alec suffers no such self consciousness, continuing to belt out the last of the chorus at a frankly impressive yet deafening volume while Theo parks.

He chooses a spot halfway back, the shade from the tree beside them offering a refuge from the sun as he rolls the windows up and shuts off the engine. Theo takes a few slow, deep breaths, unused to singing out loud. When he reaches for the door handle, he realizes how quiet it’s gotten and turns to find Alec staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

“What?”

“You can sing. You said you couldn’t sing.”

“I mean, technically anyone can sing. You just talk out loud but with a different pitch and cadence.”

“Fuck you.” Alec laughs. “You know what I mean. You’re good. Really good.”

The compliment has Theo flushing. He’s never been good with accepting praise. “Just singing along to the radio.”

“Well, whatever you call it, I could listen to you all day,” Alec says. “You’re singing to me when we drive home.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not,” Theo objects, unsure why he’s fighting it. He liked singing with Alec. It wasn’t a hardship, it was fun, so he isn’t sure why he’s being so stubborn.

A little voice in the back of his mind whispers, yes, you do. You don’t let yourself want things. You don’t let yourself enjoy them. Thinking that makes Theo’s entire body flush with a buzz of anxiety. He enjoys things. He likes things. He’s happy.

Rio meows, climbing up towards Alec’s shoulder.

“I know your Daddy is so stubborn, but he’s gonna give in, baby. Just you watch.”

The words do nothing to calm the waves of anxiety crashing in Theo’s mind. When he was a kid, the Kings used to take him with them on beach days. Theo was never a very strong swimmer. The twins and Jason had all taken swimming lessons at the Y, but Theo had learned to swim awkwardly from summers at the high school pool, or times when the waves weren’t too strong at the beach. Sometimes, though, the currents were strong, too big, and the twins and Jason used to take their boogie boards out and ride them. They’d always looked so excited to face something dangerous, while Theo would stand close to the shore, letting the waves crash around his ankles.

When he got older, he used to let Jason drag him out. He never got to be a better swimmer, but he got stronger and taller, which made the sea seem less scary. At least as long as he didn’t go out as far as Charlie or Andrew, who used to goad each other into trying to see who could swim out the furthest. It’d backfired when Andrew had almost drowned when he was fifteen.

Theo had been there. Thirteen years old, watching lifeguards drag Andrew out unconscious. He’d gotten caught in the undertow that day. Andrew had been the best swimmer of all of them, and yet he’d almost drowned. Theo had stood there watching while Charlie screamed and Jason tried to keep a tiny, wailing Alec away from his big brother who was immobile on the sand because their parents had gone to the little food cart down the street to get everyone snow cones. The chaos had been terrifying. Theo still remembers the way the cherry red snow cone stained the sand when Mr. King dropped it and ran to his son.

Theo had looked down at the water lapping around his ankles and wondered if Andrew was going to die. He knew that no matter how safe things looked, the smallest thing could pull you under.

“You’re daydreaming about saying yes to me, aren’t you?” Alec asks, dragging Theo back to the present.

He startles, looking around at their surroundings. “Not exactly,” he whispers.

Alec makes a humming sound as he swings open his door, turning so his long legs are halfway out then pauses, tipping his head back to look at Theo. Alec smirks, his curls tumbling back. He’s got freckles all along his jaw, and the shirt he’s wearing, Theo’s shirt, hangs loose around his throat, exposing the line of his sharp collarbones.

“You’re going to sing to me again, Theodore.”

“How are you so sure?” Theo croaks.

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