Page 58 of The Substitute
“How is that going? He is okay?”
“Why wouldn’t he be okay? I’m there.”
Sometimes, I really want to know what it’s like inside his head, but then I think it would be terrifying, so it’s best that I don’t.
“Does he have friends to hang out with? Stuff to do?” If it was anyone else, I would be concerned about asking so many questions, but I don’t think Teddy will make any connections. I hope.
“Rhys is around, too.” Teddy nods, but I know the Gods are just as busy as we are. “Tobs is fine.”
“You’re staying with your parents, too?”
“Yeah, kinda. We have an apartment, but there’s nothing like being at home, you know? Where your parents will watch hockey with you and buy the good snacks.” The man has a big smile on his face, and it’s kind of adorable. “Plus, it brings back memories of Tobs complaining about ‘sports ball,’ even though I’ve told him a millionaire times that there’s no balls in hockey. Except the ones in our jocks.”
I blink at him, not knowing how to respond to that.
“Right,” I finally manage as the doors open on the bottom floor, and we step out. I need a damn interpreter to talk to this guy. How am I supposed to get any information if he talks in riddles?
By the time we’re back in our room and getting ready for bed, I’m exhausted from corralling Teddy. He really does just walk off into the unknown.
So far tonight, I’ve stopped him from adopting cats from an alley, stopped him from buying ten cans of Red Bull, four bags of circus peanuts, and a case of mega stuffed Oreos. Getting him out of the Croc store took three of us to pick him up and remove him.
How does Rhys get anything done?
“You’re shitting on my dreams.” Teddy pouts as I’m taking my outside clothes off.
“What dreams?”
“To own every color of Crocs. They had limited-edition PB&J ones there. Do you even know how hard those are to find?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Do they look like a sandwich?”
“How is that not obvious to you?”
I’m not responding to that. I’ve snapped at him too many times already. Running a hand through my hair, I force myself to take a deep breath before getting my stuff ready for tomorrow, then lie down.
“Just go to bed, man.”
“I can’t!”
I sigh and hate every one of my decisions that has led me to being Teddy’s roommate. “Why not?”
“I haven’t talked to my person.”
I raise an eyebrow and look at him. “Your person?”
“Yeah.”
“The one you FaceTimed in the bathroom?”
His eyes get really wide, and he opens his mouth, then closes it a few times before glaring at me. “That was a private conversion.”
“Conversation,” I correct, “and you had the volume at a hundred.”
His phone rings at an obnoxiously loud volume with an incoming FaceTime call. Teddy gets up and lopes to the bathroom like a kid.
“Hey, person!”
The door closes, and he turns down the volume, so I don’t hear the response this time. With a bone-heavy sigh, I pat around for my phone and see I have missed messages from Tobi.
