Page 173 of Stop and Seek
He was going to pass out. Or throw up. Or come again—any or all three options. Maybe. He couldn’t tell.
Noah knocked.
Two hard raps. Like he was showing up for game night.
“Relax,” he whispered over his shoulder, grinning. “This is the easy part.”
Theo couldn’t answer. His mouth was too dry. His tongue sat thick and useless behind his teeth. All the blood in his body was trying to be in his hands. In his thighs. He kept thinking about how it would feel when the crowbar came out of his pants—how it would sound.
Inside, there were footsteps. Then a pause.
Theo’s chest burned.
“Hey,” Noah called. “Andrew? Sorry to bother you, man, I just—uh, I think we have a mutual friend. You got a minute?”
The door creaked open.
Theo didn’t look up at first. He was too busy counting his own heartbeats. Too fast, too fast. He lost track. Restarted.
But then hedidlook up—and there was Andrew.
Exactly the same as on the camera feed. No latte this time. Banana in his hand. His hair looked longer up close.
He stared at Noah before his gaze landed on Theo, and Theo watched the recognition bloom on his face.
“It’sbeena minute,” Andrew said. Smiling.
Why the fuck was hesmiling?
His mouth kept moving, but the words went in one ear and out the other.
College. Called. Texts.
Jagger.
Then the door was opening wider, and Andrew was ushering them in.
Theo could feel his pulse in his fingertips now. The crowbar pressed harder against his leg. He swore he could feel the phantom weight of itin his hands, already red. Every muscle in his body was ready to snap tight.
Noah glanced back at Theo. His eyes softened. Checking in.
Theo stopped breathing. All he could do was nod.
He followed them inside.
The apartment smelled almost exactly like he remembered. Exactly like his own place did most days. Coffee and weed. Candle burning, thick and cloying, beside the flat-screen television.
Noah kept the conversation going, like they wereallold college buddies.
Like they were allnormal fucking friends.
“This place is nice,” Noah said. “You a big Steelers fan? Where’s your Ohio pride, man?”
Andrew laughed and shut the door behind them. “I like what I like. Bengals haven’t done well since the eighties and I hate the Browns.”
Every sound in the room stretched thin. The door clicking shut. The rustle of Noah’s shiny basketball shorts. Andrew’s bare feet sticking to the linoleum.
The crowbar. He kept thinking about the crowbar.
