Nate knew that Theodore was joking. However, something in him still could not figure out how to get a read on the other boy.
"Okay I can tell you're not sure if I am being legit and that is totally fair, but I'm joking," Theodore chuckled, as Nate's brows gently unfurrowed into an amused position. "First things first, I need coffee because my meds have been making me absolutely dead recently, so I've been chugging caffeine at all times."
Nate was shocked. "How much coffee do you have? Like a day?"
"You absolutely do not want to know that."
"I can barely have a latte without shaking like a leaf."
Theodore laughed as he peeled out of the parking lot and onto the street. They continued to chat about random things. Theodore was highly vocal about all the "fartheads"—his exact words—that were currently driving, and Nate felt happy he was included in such a dramatic representation of road rage.
Nate heard Theodore pull something out of his pocket followed by a clicking sound near the center. All of the sudden music started to play, and immediately Nate recognized the song. It was "Speed Racer" by Her's: a song that he listened to frequently.
"I love this song," Nate exclaimed, trying to control his excitement.
"No fucking way."
"Yes, fucking way. I used to listen to this song all. The. Time. In my sophomore year."
Theodore smiled. "You have automatically become my new best friend."
Nate found himself blushing, but he tilted his head towards the window in hopes that Theodore would not see. Theodore proceeded to ask Nate his music taste, and vice versa. Their tastes were nearly identical; whatever they didn't share, it was merely just a level of one boy knowing more songs than the other.
"Genuinely," Theodore stated after they spilled their favorite musical artists. "I cannot express how cool you are. I mean, you were already a cool person, but damn, your taste has proved it".
Nate blushed once more–shaking his head in partial disagreement. He continued to be at a loss for words as they pulled up to the cafe drive through.
"We are here at last," Theodore exclaimed as his car came to a halt. "We might be here for a bit though, there's about 4 cars ahead of us".
Nate nodded, saying a simple "Mm". He was trying to play it off as nonchalant, but in reality he was glad this meant that him and Theodore could continue talking for longer. While sitting there, the overwhelming reminder of his own presence and appearance slightly spoiled his stomach. A wave of anxiety washed over him as he began to analyze things intensely. He hoped Theodore would begin to talk again to distract from this, and he did.
"What do you want?"
"Hmm?" Nate replied.
"I'm buying you a drink. What do you want?"
A new anxiety washed over Nate. There were many things Nate could easily accomplish, but making decisions and accepting things that were not crucial to his safety was not one of them. Sometimes, he couldn't even do that. Hence the storm incident.
"No, I'm okay, like truly," the man nervously replied.
"Come on," Theodore groaned, dramatically slumping in his seat. "It's on the house! You really got nothing?"
"Yes, I swear," Nate replied. It was partially a lie–Nate would kill for his favorite drink–but he'd never admit that to Theodore.
With a long sign, Theodore moved a car up in the line, and turned back to Nate.
YOU ARE READING
All Our Sensitivity
Romance"Are you always going to forget I can't see?" "I don't need to remember when we're kissing." "Weirdo." Nate was born blind. That was a fact. Nate was also gay. That was a fact that came much later after his six-month relationship with his best frien...
