Page 125 of The Substitute
Savage: How’s it going with Ambrose?
Tobi: We’re still not really talking.
Savage: Want me to talk to him?
Tobi: I don’t know.
Savage: We can talk about it later if you want to.
Tobi: Thank you. You don’t have to.
Savage: I know. But I want you to be happy.
It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but it’s worth it for him.
THIRTY-NINE
TOBI
I’m happy, but I’m hurting. It’s better than how I started off the year, but my chest aches every time I see Ambrose. I don’t know how to fix it or if we even can or should. I hate it. I’ve talked to Savage, but I feel bad talking to him about someone else, let alone his step-brother. How did I get myself into such a fucked up situation?
I’m so desperate for someone to talk to, I text Teddy. This is going to be a disaster, I can feel it in my bones, but I have literally no one else, and I’m hoping that by being vague as fuck, Teddy won’t connect the dots of who I’m talking about.
God, I really hope Rhys isn’t here.
I knock on the door of their apartment, and Teddy yells loud enough to alert the entire floor that he’ll be here in a minute. Fuck my life. Everyone is going to know my business by the end of this.
The door opens, and Teddy stands there in green cotton shorts with a huge Shrek face on one thigh and no shirt. Is this a hockey thing? Guys are just fundamentally against shirts?
“Broster! Welcome to my bumble-y bode!” He sweeps his arm out, and I take it in. I haven’t actually been here since they moved in, and it’s both better and worse than I had imagined.
It’s chaos. Nothing on the walls is straight, the blankets on the couch are an offensive shade of yellow, and there’s not a curtain or window blind in sight. Fantastic.
How does Rhys live like this? I already have a headache, and I haven’t even been here thirty seconds.
I step inside and take my shoes off since there’s the Mount Everest of shoes sitting on the floor.
“I hope you don’t want to talk about science stuff,” Teddy says as he walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge to grab a water. “Drinksy?”
“Water is good, thanks.”
He hands me one, and I sit on a stool at the island that has his face on the seat. I’m not going to think too hard about that.
“No science stuff,” I take a drink and try to find a way to word this. “I’m having a guy problem.”
He perks up like I’ve just said some magic word. “You came to the right place, I’m a wizard of knowledge.”
“On guys in general or relationships?”
“Both.” He shrugs like this is the most logical answer.“I have been in a successful relationship for over a year!”
“Right.” I grimace internally.
Teddy sits on a stool next to me and swings his legs like a kid. “And I already know.”
“What?”
“I know your little secret or whatever.”
