Chapter Forty-Six
❝The sunset is proof that sometimes,
endings can be beautiful, too.❞
Theo packed the last of their things.
Piled up on the corner of their living room were suitcases and duffel bags, and everything that reminded him that his summer trip had lasted longer than anyone would've expected.
The past few months couldn't feel any shorter.
Zach came out of the room with a simple jersey and shorts, taking a bite from his apple. "Is that everything?" He nodded to the stack.
"Almost." He flopped on the couch, taking a last look at the apartment — now clean and polished like they hadn't been living there at all. "Time flies, yeah?"
"You can say that again." Zach leaned against the kitchen counter. "You ready to head back?"
Head back. To San Diego.
For a while, he almost forgot that he had a life back there. Back home. In fact, home seemed ever-shifting — where was it? Was it a place, a person, a feeling? Was it where you were born, or where you found yourself?
He only shook his head.
"Well, you know what I'm ready for." The blond quickly padded back to the bedroom only to come out with the infamous golden trophy. "This baby." He gave it a loud kiss.
Theo chuckled. "Your ticket to the whole world, my friend."
He knew what he meant. The advantages of being the winner of the East Coast Surfing Championships were vast; scholarships, tournaments, invitations to sport events, and on top of that, just plain exposure. Theo wouldn't be surprised if he someday saw his best friend appear on TV one day.
"Yeah." Zach looked away for a bit, placing the trophy down. "I still can't believe that dickhead did it."
The air became tense. None of them had really talked about that part; about Travis sacrificing his own title. What did Theo think? Well, what everyone was thinking — that it was damn good of him to do. But he knew him too well. He wasn't ready to forget all the horrible things he did and said, to Zach, to El, to him. To everyone he had the unfortunate faith to cross. He refused to see it as a last attempt for redemption. Even after Travis tried to explain himself to him. He wasn't like El.
But... it was still good.
"Are you going to talk to him?"
"I don't even know, man. And I'm not even sure what to say if I did. Everything's so fucked up." He got that right. Zach gestured to him. "What about you?"
He startled. "Me?"
"Your ticket to the world."
His acceptance letter to one of San Diego's most prominent art schools. The one his parents gave him, and only informing him after he got accepted. An offer they knew he couldn't refuse.
"Yeah," Theo rubbed his neck uneasily, "about that."
Slowly, yet surely, he told Zach about his plans. And the whole time, he listened and understood, even when Theo wasn't sure about the details himself.
"That's... that's great," Zach whistled. "I mean, I'm your fucking best friend and everything, so I support anything you choose. But... how can you be so confident that things will go the way you planned?" He paused, as if careful with his words. "Things can change. People can change. You can change."
That was one of the variables that sometimes left Theo awake at night. It also reminded him of an old conversation he used to have with El; one of the firsts, in fact. It was about change, inevitable and ever-shifting for some people.
He opened his mouth to answer.
But the front door thumped.
"Shit," Theo hissed, running over there and kicking one of the bags aside. It had blocked the door. "Sorry, baby."
El peeked from the other side, smiling. "It's fine."
He immediately went for a hug. Though she usually left early in the morning to run errands or buy the boys breakfast (Zach was not inclined to leave anymore), he still missed every second he was away from her. And that was added with the fact that she'd been staying at theirs for the past couple of days. Theo thought it'd worry her grandparents, but they were oddly enthusiastic about it.
Maybe because they also knew, like them, that it wasn't going to last.
"Sorry, did I interrupt your bromance?" El giggled, looking past his shoulder to address Zach.
"No, interrupt away." Zach yawned. "Living with him for the past few months has been a pain in my ass. And in two days from now, I'm going to be stuck in a plane with him. So please, take your time, milady."
Theo scowled, and she laughed even harder.
He gave her a closer look. The two hadn't done the talk; not even a mention about him leaving. They were mature; they knew ignoring it would make things worse, but both of them wanted to drown in ignorant bliss for as long as they could.
She seemed like she was doing fairly well, but he wasn't sure if that was a good sign.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
El blinked. "Me? Yeah. Of course." She quickly diverted her eyes, cleaning a non-existent stain on his shirt. "You still need some help?"
"Actually." There was a glint in Theo's eyes. "There's a few last more."
***
Having El in his bedroom alone never felt the same.
His thoughts kept replaying to that night, of them together. Tangled in bed and mouths on each other; his hands on anywhere he could touch and her soft breaths against his ear. Easily the best night of Theo's life.
He saw her doe eyes wander around the room, always with that curious-like gaze. His room was not like it was before; no books outlining his shelf, nor the colour pencils spread over his desk or the crumbled clothes flooding the floor. But there was one thing he hadn't had the heart to touch just yet.
The sketches.
Every one of them was still displayed at their rightful places.
"You still have them," she whispered.
"Yeah." He stopped next to her. "I couldn't tear them down yet."
Theo followed her gaze upwards, which was the first frame that caught her attention. The small sketch stuck onto the wall just right above the bed. He noticed that she'd been glancing at it ever since their first night together; but she never really said anything, just stared at it as if words couldn't justify the thoughts swirling over her head.
The same thing was probably happening right now.
"Is that really what I look like?" she whispered, walking forward and softly grazing the sketch like it was fragile.
"Like you're having an existential crisis every five seconds?" El hit his shoulder at that, and he chuckled. "Why, yes. Yes, you do."
But he himself was transfixed by the sight, too. Anchor's, bathed under the night sky, with her looking up at the stars like she was searching for answers of the universe. He had drawn that a long time ago — when he barely just opened himself up to her, and started drawing in colours. It was the first sketch he had drawn with it.
Theo couldn't imagine a time where he didn't trust El.
Her eyes floated around the room again, finding the colours as a guide of constellations. He'd put the sketches in empty spaces: under the coat hanger, by the top of the bed, near the door. Some had wrinkles on it; some looked more recent.
"I never bothered to ask why you had them up," she slowly said, turning to him. "I mean, is it just for decoration, or...?"
Theo shrugged. "Most of the time, I have good days." Then his throat became slightly heavy. "And sometimes, I have bad days."
It was evident during the summer that demons could come back; in any shape or form, they would manifest even when you've convinced yourself that you'd gotten better. During his darkest times, he had to find a solution. Something to hold him together from straying too far to the darkness. An anchor.
"Whenever I have these... thoughts..." he started, "I'd always find myself searching for my sketches. But they'd been inside the book, closed and hidden, and it was easier to just give in to the pain." He paused, flickering his eyes over them. "So I tore them out and put them in places one wouldn't normally guess — like smaller spaces where your eyes tend to inadvertently pass." He smiled at her. "It turned out right where I needed them. And I remembered how it felt to hope again."
It took a lot of strength to get back to loving yourself when your past came to haunt you.
And he had a lot on his plate: his strained relationship with his parents, the guilt of years ridiculing his brother, the suicide of a boy he'd taunted. His path to self-destruction. And then, feeling helpless for the girl he was in love with, stuck in a toxic relationship.
He damn needed to remind himself that there was colour in the world.
El's lips slowly lifted. "Theo," she cupped his face with her hands, "that's so good. So good. I'm proud of you, baby."
Her smile was so fucking cute.
A sudden thought occurred to him. Without much to say, and to El's bewilderment, he started taking the sketches off the walls. And finally dropping all of them into her hands.
She stared at him. "What — "
"Keep them," he blurted. "They're yours to keep." He frowned. "Or throw away. Actually, do whatever you want with — "
"No!" El held them to her chest like they were her cubs. "I'll — I'll keep them, but... are you sure you don't want them?" She blinked at him. "What're you going to do when you search for them?"
She looked so precious that he couldn't help but peck her forehead. "You helped brought colour back to my world. It should be fair that those colours be returned to you."
He inwardly cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth, expecting her to turn away and laugh at how ridiculous he sounded.
But she didn't. Her grin widened.
"You're something else, Theo Samuels, you know that?"
"No," he grinned, picking her up to the bed, "keep talking."
***
Apparently Theo forgot about the last advantage of being the Championships' winner: easily booking a table at Three Diamond Door during peek hour in the busiest weekend.
"What the fuck!" Daisy let out, spreading her long legs all over the lush velvet seat. "This is fucking lit!"
"Why do you sound like my classmates?" Jeff muttered.
Theo scoffed. "Because she's secretly fifteen, too."
"I heard that, Samuels!"
He smiled and gave her the finger.
The VIP table that Zach provided them gave a good view of the club: dancing bodies mixed together, strobe lights, neon signs aligning the walls. The bar at the side of the floor; constantly attracting people like lights would do moths. Thankfully, they already have a opened bottle of a French-based champagne that Theo didn't want to know the price of.
But the girls had different ideas.
"Who wants shots?" Daisy blurted out.
El raised her hand. "Me!" she squealed.
The three boys looked at each other. "I'll get it," Theo grunted, standing up and dragging Jeff along with him. They all knew that if they let the girls go to the bar alone, there would be men flocking over them like a couple of seagulls. And he didn't want trouble during the last night at the District.
"Five tequila shots, thank you."
Jeff gaped at him. "You're literally advocating for under-age drinking."
"You're saying you don't want the shot?"
He opened his mouth, but he paused, and quickly shut it after that. Theo grinned.
After a while, though, he uttered suddenly: "Do you let Chase drink?"
Theo frowned. "Chase's my little brother. Of course not." Then he realised how hypocritical he sounded. "Well... I'd let him if he was careful, and only if I was around with him."
"Huh. Fair enough." Pause. "How... how is he?"
For a moment, the older boy glanced at him a little longer. It was rare that Jeffrey Jones asked about Chase Samuels; in fact, he could count on one hand how many times he would bring him up in daily conversations. "He's fine," he said slowly. "Why do you ask?"
"What?" Jeff got flustered. "No, I'm just asking. Really, it's noth — just forget about it."
Before he could question the kid any further, the barista dropped their shots in front of them. Saved by the bell, Theo thought, taking three and letting Jeff get the others.
"Cheers to the best summer ever!" Daisy held up her shot.
They all tipped their heads back.
"By the way, I've meaning to ask!" Zach slightly slurred, a new confidence behind his eyes. "Where's Julian?" Like the question had been burning his tongue.
Daisy filled her glass with more champagne. "Not here!"
The two locked eyes for a hot minute, but that seemed to be the end of it.
El nudged him. "You good?!"
Theo let out a small smile and put his arm around her, pulling her closer. "Shouldn't you be asking yourself that question?"
"No?!"
"Okay, Miss-Low-Tolerance."
She punched his shoulder.
A particular song came on, one that made El jump on her toes and pull at Theo's arm. "It's my favourite! Come on, Theo!"
He huffed, pretending to be tired, but her infectious smile got the better of him. Also remembering that it was their final night out, he let her drag him to the dance floor, not bothering to say much to the rest.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hands clasped her waist, edging lower, lower, lower. El blushed as Theo grinned mischievously, leaning in to land a soft kiss at her neck.
"Your last night here," she breathed, making him pull back, "was also your first night, remember?"
He stared down at her. He couldn't believe she remembered.
"Wasn't my best of nights," he chuckled, his breath tickling her ear. "Until I met you."
She smiled contagiously and buried her head near his chest. "Well, you have me now, in your arms. Who would've thought?"
Not him, in a million years.
At some point, Theo caught sight of Daisy and Zach, who were walking out of the VIP table and into the dance floor. Correction — it was mostly Daisy dragging the boy behind her back. But no, he was mistaken again; they passed the dance floor. He couldn't see where they went.
Not that it was surprising. It was bound to happen between them.
He just had to contain his laughter when he saw Jeff alone with a frightened expression on his face.
"Everyone, grab your loved ones, raise your hands up, and let's gooo!" the DJ screamed the basic nonsense to the microphone, erupting a huge cheer from the crowd. El threw her head back to laugh, her smile looking out of this world.
Theo thought back to the conversation in his head, about what home meant. It didn't really matter what form it took; whether it was a place, a person or a feeling. What mattered is that you had it, with you and around you.
So how do you let go of something that felt like home?
That's the trick question — you don't.
A/N:
Have you ever had someone who felt like home?
I had. Four years ago. And I thought I wouldn't find another one like that again. But life has a surprising way of proving you wrong.
P.S. — so many things to theorise in this chapter ;)