#custom lacrosse shooting shirts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eliehasmoved · 6 years

Text

just too good to be true [1/7] - teen wolf/thiam

Pairing/Characters: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, past Liam Dunbar/Hayden Romero, Tracy Stewart, Brett Talbot Word Count: 7186 Rating/Warning(s): Teen. Swearing and smoking. Summary: Liam has the worst luck when it comes to girls. Things just keep crashing and burning. Mason tries to convince him that maybe it’s time to come out, to date a guy instead, but his best friend won’t hear it. So he and Corey decide to find him the ultimate date, someone who’s exactly his type—snarky, tendency to punch people, and tough enough to put up with their volatile friend. Bad boy Theo Raeken is the perfect fit, despite his murky past and caustic personality. And the fact that he won’t do it for free. What could go wrong? One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || AO3 Movie AU Fest Day 1 - Romance/Comedy: 10 Things I Hate About You

“Liam,” Mason says, exasperated.

Liam blinks, dragging himself from his thoughts and back to the present. His character’s just been shot in the head and is lying at the base of the hill in a heap. He winces. “Sorry.”

The other team traipses past his body, and promptly closes in on Mason’s character, cornering him behind a rusted car and executing him. The screen fades to black, and GAME OVER flashes brightly on the screen before them a moment later. Mason sighs.

“Man, that’s the third time you’ve spaced out,” he says. He returns them to the menu, hovering over FIND MATCH, before ultimately deciding against it and setting the controller on the floor. He levels a concern look at his best friend. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“I’m just out of it, I guess,” Liam shrugs. There’s really no guesswork involved, really. He feels like shit, and he has for weeks. The Cyclones have been doing great and are three games away from Championships, his grades are decent, and he’s heard back from all three colleges he applied to. By all means, he should be happy.

But there’s this ache in his chest that’s anything but.

The discomfort must be obvious on his face. He can see the way Mason’s brows knit together in a frown, and he knows the words are coming before he’s even opened his mouth.

“Is this about Hayden?”

Liam groans, leaning his head back and thumping it against his mattress. “Girls suck.” Corey snorts, loudly. Liam can just barely see him from where he’s sitting at the head of the bed, nose tucked into a book. “What? They do! Or maybe I’m just cursed.”

Dating is absolutely the worst social custom known to man. He has no idea who came up with it or why, but he wishes he could travel back in time to punch them in the face. Repeatedly. He’s sure it’d be therapeutic at this point. Because dating? It’s just not working out for him.

Corey’s eyes flick up to meet his, and one brow raises. “It’s been three weeks,” the other boy says, unimpressed. “You should probably stop moping.”

Liam frowns at him. “I dated her for almost a year!”

“And you dated Malia for like, three months, then you moped for another two,” Mason points, and the miserable boy shoots him a glare. Are they really ganging up on him about his spectacularly awful love life? “And before that—”

“You saw Kira for maybe two weeks. And kissed her once.” Liam doesn’t dare look up, he can hear the smug grin in Corey’s voice.

“What’s your point?” He crosses his arms with a huff. “Because you’re just making mine: girls suck.”

He watches Mason exchange a glance with Corey over his foot board, before the look on his face turns sympathetic in a way that sets off warning bells. Liam knows that look. He’s seen it before, many many times. Usually when he’s done something stupid, or Mason’s explaining something to him that he should probably get by now. Or the rare times where Mason tries to convince him—

Uh oh.

His best friend smiles softly. “Maybe it’s time you stop kidding yourself with the whole straight thing, Li.”

Liam hunches his shoulders, scowling. “Mason.”

The other boy shrugs, the picture of innocence. “I’m just saying, this hasn’t been working out for you. And we’re kind of tired of seeing you get your heart broken.”

“So we were thinking, if you were to step outside your comfort zone…”

Liam shakes his head. “Not happening.”

“Liam,” Mason says, and it’s so patient that something twists uncomfortably in his chest. His best friend reaches out, placing a hand over his. “You’ve been hiding half of yourself all of high school, man. And I get it, okay? I do.”

“You don’t,” Liam interrupts, shaking his head. He lets out a hollow laugh, and nearly pulls his hand away. How many times have they had this same argument? “Your parents were happy for you when you came out. Your mom bought you a car like it was your fucking birthday, or something.”

Mason’s lips pull into a thin smile. “It wasn’t that easy, you know.”

“For either of us,” Corey adds, and Liam’s brain helpfully supplies a memory of the quieter boy sleeping in the guest room at the Hewitts for a week after he’d told his parents they’d started dating last year. They’d settled things in time, but it’s still a raw wound for the guy.

He sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—You know my parents. Between my dad and the lacrosse team, I...I can’t. I want to, really. I do. But I just can’t.” He busies himself with picking at a loose strand of carpet, voice lowering. “I haven’t even told them Hayden and I broke up yet.”

Mason’s shoulders deflate a little. “Yeah, we know.” He breathes out slowly, almost sadly, then picks up his controller, offering Liam a reassuring smile. “You wanna play another?”

Relief washes over him at the change in subject, the tightness in his chest melting away in the face of his best friend’s warmth. He grins, hands reaching for his discarded remote. “Definitely! And I promise to pull my weight this time.”

He settles back against his bed, gaze settling on the screen as Mason snorts, pressing the button to get them started. He’s so focused on the game starting and getting a jump on the other team, he misses the way the other two boys exchange looks again, this time far more determinedly.

“You really think this is going to work?” Corey asks. He makes a face, pushing his food around his tray. It’s Monday, which means mystery meat is on the menu.

Mason chances a look over his shoulder to see where Liam’s at in line, then turns back, grinning at his boyfriend. “Definitely! It’s no use us telling him it’s time to date a guy. He’ll think we’re biased. He needs to hear it from someone interested in him.”

He props open his lunch box, sliding out a large sub and two apples. One goes to Corey, and once he’s pulled apart the sandwich, two thirds of it follows. Mason takes a bite of his piece, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Oka’ tho,” he says, and Corey makes a face at him. He pauses, taking the time to swallow before he keeps going. “Okay, so, we need someone he’ll be interested in. Someone his type, who’ll help break him out of his shell.”

“Right,” Corey nods, biting into his sandwich and sighing happily. He loves the Hewitts’ tuna sandwiches. Or, well, their cook’s anyway. “Boxes to tick off?”

“Well, for starters,” Mason hums, holding up a finger to start counting, “he has to be hot. I’m not setting my best friend up with just anyone.”

“Mhm.”

“Also, most importantly, it needs to be someone who can handle Liam’s… difficult personality.”

“Mhmm.”

“They’ll have to keep him on his toes, obviously. So a quick wit, or a sense of humour would help. Oh! And so far all his girlfriends have sort of had this thing about punching him in the face as a meet-cute?”

“Violent tendencies,” Corey adds, shuddering as he remembers Malia.

“Equally volatile personality,” Mason corrects him, tone bright and chipper. He waggles his four fingers in the air for emphasis.

“I feel like that shouldn’t be a box.” The hungry teen stuffs the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. He swallows it down in seconds, reaching for the apple while Mason stares, open-mouthed.

“Where do you put it, honestly?” Corey just shrugs at him, and he shakes his head affectionately before checking to see Liam’s progress. His meeting with Coach had gone on just long enough that he’d joined them right when the line was busiest. “Anyway. Got any ideas where to start?”

His boyfriend devours a chunk of apple, then nods his head at someone over Mason’s right shoulder. “What about him?”

Mason glances behind him, scanning the cafeteria. He doesn’t really need to, as he knows who Corey’s talking about the second he spots him, sitting at the very back. His black t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders tightly, and there’s a cigarette tucked behind his pierced ear. His feet are propped up on the table, large black combat boots sitting dangerously close to Tracy Stewart’s lunch tray. Leaning off-kilter in his chair, he’s flicking peas across the table at Josh Diaz, who’s attempting to catch them in his mouth.

Mason spins back so fast his neck protests the attempted whiplash with a painful twinge. “Theo Raeken? Really, babe?” He hisses, lowering his voice. “You know he’s a criminal, right?”

“So they say,” Corey shrugs. “We don’t actually know what happened last year.”

Mason looks unimpressed. “They say he lit a deputy on fire.”

“Parrish looked fine at assembly last month.”

“They also say he tried to poison Tracy—and electrocuted Josh. And this was before he dropped out of school!”

Corey’s gaze slides past Mason, and when it returns, it’s his turn to look unperturbed. “Yet they’ve hung out with him all year since he’s been back. So, probably just rumors.”

“You haven’t,” Mason points out, but even that doesn’t faze him.

His boyfriend just shrugs. “You know I stopped hanging out with him sophomore year.”

“Yeah, because he was a bad influence!” He cries, throwing his hands up. Two girls at the table to their left shoot him a nasty look, and he frowns at them before returning his attention to Corey. “You’re not really selling him here.”

“Okay, forget his reputation for a minute. He’s hot,” Corey says, holding up a finger. “He’s an asshole, so not only can he put up with our tinier asshole, but he’s sarcastic and sort of thinks he’s funny. Also, he’ll pick a fight with literally anyone.” He’s holding up all four fingers Mason had earlier.

“I thought you said that shouldn’t be a box,” he frowns, but he can already feel his resolve crumbling.

“You listed it, not me.”

Mason rolls his eyes, then turns to sneak another look at their intended target. Theo’s feet are still up, but he’s no longer throwing food. Instead, his arms are folded behind his head as he leans back in his chair, perched precariously on two legs, and he’s smirking as he watches Tracy and Josh argue about something.

“How do we even know if he’s interested?” Mason asks, brows knitting together thoughtfully. “In guys, I mean.”

“Oh, he’s interested,” Corey says weakly, and it’s the tone that makes his boyfriend whip back around for the second time in as many minutes. It’s embarrassed. The moment he spots the pink creeping across his cheeks, Mason’s mouth drops open.

“Oh my god. You didn’t.”

Corey’s lips press together tightly, then pop as he laughs nervously, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “It was just once. I was still unsure, still questioning. I wanted—I was curious what it’d be like to kiss a guy, and he offered.” His shoulders tuck in tighter, and he folds his hands into a heap on the table in front of him.

“So you’re picking the school bad boy based on the fact that he was your first kiss?” Mason groans, slumping forward. His forehead smacks against the table, and his voice is muffled as he says: “This is a terrible idea. But it’s not the worst idea.”

“That’s because I’m right,” Corey says happily, reaching across the table to hover over Mason’s apple. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Knock yourself out,” he mutters. “I know I want to.”

Mason waits until AP Biology to make the first move, because it’s the only class the four of them have together. He thinks about cornering him after school, because he knows Theo leaves early and he could catch him on the way out, but he also knows he’d prefer to have as many witnesses as possible, just in case he says the wrong thing and he gets murdered.

Thankfully, because it’s Monday, they’re doing a lab. Mrs. Finch always starts the week with a lab, so Mason heads for the back row the moment he steps foot in class. It means that he continues past his boyfriend and best friend as they take up their usual seats. He knows it won’t look entirely suspicious that he’s choosing not to sit with them, because one of them always gets pulled away to pair off with another classmate. Typically it’s Hayden, but, well...

It’s only when he reaches his destination that Liam looks back and shoots Mason a confused look. Which promptly switches outright shock when Theo Raeken slides into his preferred seat, directly to his left. Liam probably thinks he’s gone insane. Mason thinks he’s probably right.

They both sit in complete silence as Finch begins the lesson, instructing them to start by turning on the burners in the middle of the table. When it flares to life between them with a flame that Mason thinks is just a tad too tall, Theo finally speaks.

“So,” he says, skimming a finger through the flame quick enough to avoid being burned without even looking at it. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Hewitt?”

The fact that he’s staring directly at him, unblinking, makes Mason want to pack up and leave. Immediately. Every instinct in his fragile, non-sport playing body is telling him this is a terrible idea. He stomps on all of them, willing a smile to his lips. This is for Liam’s benefit.

“You’re always alone for labs,” Mason tells him as nonchalantly as possible, shrugging. “I figured I’d offer you a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

“We both know I can ace Biology with my eyes closed,” Theo says, and the look he’s wearing can only be described as predatory. His voice drops dangerously low. “So, want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

Deep breaths, Mason. You got this.

“Sooo,” he says, and curses how stupid he sounds. “You see my friend over there, Liam?”

Theo doesn’t glance over, merely raises a brow. So Mason presses on.

“Well, see, he’s a little down on his luck lately. He went through a rough breakup a little while ago, and he’s been pretty down in the dumps.” Mason fights the urge to wince at every absolutely cliche thing coming out of his mouth, but it just keeps coming, unbidden. “So, my boyfriend and I were thinking, maybe you could, ah—”

The other brow raises, and the corners of his lips tilt upwards slightly. “Help him get lucky?”

Mason chokes, sucks in too much air to recover, and promptly starts coughing. Theo laughs, while the younger boy doubles over, wheezing as he tries to settle himself. By the time he’s done, Mrs. Finch is standing next to their table.

“Everything alright, Mason?” She asks, suspicious gaze flickering between the two boys. Mason nods wordlessly. “Good. Then you should probably start your lab; you’re already behind.”

And with that, she walks off to hover over someone else. Mason glances up, and sees Corey and Liam staring back at him in concern. His boyfriend shoots him a puzzled what are you doing look while his best friend’s looking at him like he might as well have grown another head. Mason smiles back awkwardly, waving.

As for the older boy, it seems he’s already lost his attention—he’s started mixing things together in a beaker. Crap.

“I was thinking,” Mason tries again, scooting his stool closer. He doesn’t miss the way Theo’s shoulders tense. “You could take him out.”

“I think putting the poor bastard out of his misery’s a little extreme, don’t you?”

He knows from the way his upper lip curls that he’s kidding, but Mason still rushes to correct himself. “No! I mean like, on a date.”

Theo swirls the blue liquid in the container with a thin stick, then flicks it dry, placing the beaker on top of the flame. They lick up the sides, absolutely too high for whatever experiment it is they’re running. Mason stares, wide-eyed, and Theo seems to realize this because he’s reaching forward a moment later to turn it down.

He sets a timer on his phone, then turns to face Mason, expression neutral. “So, you want me to date him?”

“Yes,” Mason nods.

“Me?” Theo points at himself for emphasis, then tosses a thumb in Liam’s direction. “And the anger management case?”

“Yes.” He can feel the tick in his jaw as he presses his lips together, trying not to react to the jab at his best friend.

The older boy smirks, and there’s a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

Mason blinks. He hadn’t expected that. “What?”

Theo crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back. His foot hooks underneath the bar on Mason’s stool, allowing him to balance on the back legs of his own. “What makes taking Dunbar out on a date worth my time, exactly?”

“He’s a fantastic guy, and you’d be helping him out? Do you need another reason?” He sort of wishes he’d sent Corey to talk to him, because his patience is thinning by the second.

“You’re just not really selling him to me,” Theo shrugs, and he looks incredibly pleased with himself when Mason responds with a scowl. On second thought, it’s probably better he didn’t send Corey. He feels as thought he’d be way too entertained they’d used the same phrase, and he’d simply never live it down.

Mason’s eyes drift towards his boyfriend, and as if he can feel the weight of his gaze, Corey glances over his shoulder a moment later to meet him. He offers him a reassuring grin, and a secretive thumbs up once he’s sure Liam’s not looking. Mason smiles, softly, before his attention is dragged to the far right. To Tracy and Josh’s table. They too, are watching the exchange, but with curious frowns and quiet whispers.

Mason watches as a ten dollar bill slips from one hand to the other, and a small light goes off in his head. He turns back to Theo, grinning ear to ear.

“What if I paid you?”

It wipes the smirk right off the older boy’s face, and he drops forward onto all four stool legs with a thump. “Excuse me?”

“To take him on a date. What if I paid you to do it?” Mason asks. The gears are spinning in his head. This could work.

“You know prostitution illegal, right?” Theo deadpans.

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “That’s not—I mean—” Theo barks out a laugh, and he stumbles his way through an explanation. “Dates are expensive! When you factor in dinner, movies, popcorn, drinks…”

The smirk returns. “Sounds pretty lowkey. What kind of boring date do you take me for, Hewitt?”

Mason frowns. “That’s what Corey and I do on Thursdays…”

“My point exactly.” The alarm on Theo’s phone goes off, and he moves to take the beaker off the fire, extinguishing it with the flick of a switch. He smiles when he sees that it’s turned green, so Mason assumes he’s done it correctly. Which, given that Theo’s top of this class, he probably has. He clears his throat.

“A hundred dollars.”

Theo freezes with his hand halfway to his phone. He shoots Mason an impressed look, both eyebrows raised again. “Per date?”

“Of course.”

“You sure you’re not pimping out your best friend to me? Using Mommy and Daddy’s money? Because that’s kind of what this sounds like.” The smirk turns shit-eating at this point, and Mason feels the last ounce of his patience with the asshole evaporate. His eyes narrow.

“That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”

Theo’s finger swipes the alarm into silence, and then his hand reaches towards Mason in offering. “You’ve got your man.”

They shake on it.

Dunbar’s damn good at lacrosse. Logically, Theo figures he’d have to be, given that the guy’s team captain. From what he’s heard, he blew everybody else out of the water after transferring his sophomore year, and impressed Coach Finstock enough that he made him Scott’s assistant captain, who took a shine to him almost immediately.

Theo ignores the twinge of bitterness the thought produces, trying to focus on the younger boy as he darts between his teammates, weaving in and out. He’s fast, and light on his feet. Given that Theo has very little interest in the sport, and was sort of busy spiralling his junior year, this is actually the first time he’s seen the kid play.

He’s impressed, even if it’s only practice.

By the time the sun’s hanging low on the horizon, the Cyclones are packing up. From his spot halfway up the bleachers, Theo watches as a good portion of them head for the showers, while a few make a direct beeline for the parking lot. Liam, however, stays. Despite the fact that he was the first one on the pitch, he runs his own drills after his team has cleared out. There’s an excited little flutter in his stomach. Kid’s got stamina.

He stands, stretching languidly, then makes his way down the steps.

Theo knows the moment Liam spots him, mid-swing, because his shoulders lock up and his shot doesn’t hit the net with as much force as the ones before. He sees blue eyes flick his way for just a split-second, but then he’s picking up another ball with his stick and whipping it. It hits the net with a loud whump, and Theo smirks.

“Hell of a swing, Dunbar,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the post.

“Thanks.” His response is gruff, and he dips to pick up another ball. When he lifts his lacrosse stick again, Liam raises a brow at him. “You sure you wanna stand there?”

Theo shrugs one shoulder. “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me,” he frowns.

Oh, this is gonna be fun. Theo’s grin turns wolfish, and he pushes off the goalpost, coming to stand in front of Liam. He’s shorter than he expected—the difference isn’t much, but it’s enough for Theo’s head to tilt down slightly. “I’d certainly like to.” His voice comes out husky, and he doesn’t even attempt subtlety as his eyes flicker to the younger boy’s lips.

Liam’s grip tightens on his lacrosse stick, and his eyes widen, bright with surprise. They’re a gorgeous blue. “What?”

“Well, I noticed you had a hard time in Biology this morning. I take it it’s not your strong suit?” Theo licks his lips, taking a half-step forward into Liam’s personal space, watching with satisfaction as his gaze slides down to widen on them, before snapping back up. Theo doesn’t bother giving him time to answer before he breezes on. “I came to offer my services. Thought you might benefit from some private lessons.”

Liam’s gaze narrow slowly, his frown deepening with every second. “Are you...Are you hitting on me?”

The older boy laughs, breathy and light. This close, it ruffles the disheveled bangs on Liam’s forehead. “Glad you noticed, Dunbar,” he winks, leaning closer. He’s only a breath away, now, and he reaches out to tap the lacrosse stick. “So, what do you say? You game for a little one-on-one?”

This time, when Liam’s eyes widen, Theo can see a flash of panic in them. His cheeks flush to match his rapidly reddening ears, and the shorter boy stumbles back. “I don’t—I don’t know what gave you the idea that was interested,” Liam scowls, and the way he says it sounds like he’s implying something else entirely. He stumbles through the rest of the refusal messily, panicked; the pitch of his voice increasing as he steps further away from Theo. “I’m not. That’s—you’re not my—I’m, uh—”

The end of his lacrosse stick catches on the field, and he nearly trips backwards. His voice is shaky as he says, “No, thank you!” And then scurries off the pitch.

Theo is left blinking after him, brows slowly lowering into a frown. What the fuck just happened? Sure, he’d been a little aggressive off the starting line, but that sort of thing nearly always got him what he wanted—who he wanted. He’s hot, and he knows it; knows exactly how to play it to his advantage. Knows how to turn on the charm and sweet-talk his way in, or out, of anything.

Which means that either Dunbar is blind, or…

He catches sight of Mason and Corey hovering in the shadows by the bleachers, and anger bubbles up in his chest. He stomps across the field, and watches the way the couple exchanges slightly panicked looks at his approach. Good. His hands ball into fists at his side.

“So,” Mason starts, making a face, “How’d it go?’

“Spectacularly,” Theo spits, and it’s all venom. Corey reaches out to wrap his fingers around his boyfriend’s wrist, offering support.

“I take it he said no?”

“Oh, he didn’t just say no. He said he wasn’t interested. At all.” Theo’s voice drops dangerously low, and they both huddle together as he steps closer.

“We said he was down on his luck,” Mason points out, mouth quirking up into an awkward smile.

“Yeah, but you sort of failed to mention he wasn’t gay!”

Corey winces. “Mason,” he says patiently, shooting a look at his boyfriend. “What did you tell Theo when you asked for his help?”

“Not enough, clearly,” the older teen growls. “Look, I’m not sure what you two are playing at here, but I want no part in it, okay?”

Mason holds up his hands in defense, palms flat. “I’m sorry,” he pulls a face. “I didn’t tell you that he wasn’t comfortable with his sexuality, because that’s kind of the point of all this.” Mason gestures to all of him, and Theo scowls.

“Excuse me?”

The boy closes his eyes and sighs, heavily. When he opens them, he looks far more determined. Like maybe he’s grown a backbone in the last six seconds. “Every one of Liam’s relationships has crashed and burned in the last two years. And they’ve been with girls that have fit a pretty specific type. And so, since I’ve been trying to get him to come out for years, I thought finding him a guy that fit that type that was also hot—”

Theo glowers despite the compliment. “I’m not forcing myself on your friend just because you think it’s time he came out. If he’s not ready, that’s his decision—not yours.”

“He’s ready, trust me,” Mason says. “He’s just afraid of what his dad will think.”

“And the lacrosse team,” Corey adds.

“Aren’t you on the lacrosse team?” Theo frowns, looking at the uniform the boy’s wearing.

“Yeah, but I fly under the radar,” he shrugs. “People don’t really tend to notice me.”

Theo opens his mouth to tell them that they’re both idiots, but Mason gets there first. “Look,” the boy starts, taking a deep breath. “I get that this makes things a little more complicated.” Theo snorts, but stays silent. “But I get the feeling you’re the kind of guy that likes a challenge.”

He could say no. He could walk away right now, and be done with this whole ridiculous plan of theirs. It could easily blow up in all their faces, and Theo knows full well he’d take the blame. Taking the next step in this dance would be stupid. But he thinks of the way Liam’s eyes had looked at him, so blue and so bright under the field lights; the way they’d flickered to his lips ever so briefly. He thinks of the way his pretty face had flushed when Theo had stepped too close, and finds himself wondering what it would look like if he really tried to make the boy blush.

Theo shrugs, crossing his arms and smirking. “And money.”

Mason’s whole face lights up with a grin. “My man!” Corey shakes his head, smiling fondly. “He just needs a little push, okay? Trust me, I know Liam better than anyone and—”

This time, Corey’s eyes brighten, and he claps his hands together, smiling. “Mason, that’s it!”

“What?” They both look at the quiet boy, frowning.

“You know him best. You know what his favourite movies are, what games he plays, what his favourite food is,” Corey says. “You’re Theo’s in with Liam! You can coach him into being the perfect date.”

“What makes you think I need help with that?” Theo huffs, mildly offended.

Mason looks unimpressed. “The fact that you just struck out?” Corey asks.

He scowls, looking between the two. After a moment, he rolls his eyes, and they both grin excitedly. He wonders, probably not for the first time, what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

Despite his best efforts to evade them, Mason and Corey corner him three times that week for Dunbar 101 lessons. First, Mason finds him smoking behind the gym during his free period on Tuesday, and awkwardly stands there waiting for him to tell Tracy and Josh to leave.

“You know smoking’s bad for you, right?” Mason wrinkles his nose.

Theo snorts, raising a brow. “Is it? Must’ve missed the memo.”

“Liam hates the smell of it.”

“Most people do.” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, blowing it in Mason’s direction. He glowers, crossing his arms. “You’ve got until this is done, teach. Better get talking.”

On Wednesday, Corey shows up in his study hall. Theo’s never seen him here before, and from the way Josh frowns at him over his chemistry textbook, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. But they seem to be the only ones that notice as the kid shuffles into class and takes a seat with them, smiling warmly.

When the quiet boy waves at Josh across the table, he looks mildly uncomfortable and raises his book to block her view of him. Theo fights the grin that tugs at the corner of his lips.

It disappears when Corey slides a piece of paper towards him, covering the essay outline he’s meant to be doing for his history class. The one he’s redone several times, because he just can’t seem to get it right. He stares down at the list in front of him. It’s split into several sections. Movies. Games. Books. Bands. “What is this?”

“His favourite stuff,” Corey says, keeping his voice low. “Figured you might want something a little more tangible than just what Mason tells you, so I sat with him and wrote down everything he could think of.”

Theo shoots him a look. “You’re both insane. You know that, right?”

It doesn’t dampen the boy’s smile. He simply hums good-naturedly, and cracks open the notebook he’d pulled the list from, twirling a pen in his right hand. He pauses with the tip barely touching the page, and glances at the older boy. “What? It’s study hall.” Corey nods at the list. “Get studying.”

Theo rolls his eyes, but doesn’t go back to his term paper for the rest of the period.

When he survives Thursday and Friday unbothered, he figures maybe they’ll leave him in peace with the knowledge he has and let him figure out the rest himself. But he’s never been that lucky and he knows it.

He’s not even at school when he gets cornered next, and it’s in the place he least expects it.

Saturday’s his shift at the bakery. They’re closed on Sundays, and while his sister was convinced one day off a week was enough for her, he’d insisted that her chore day wasn’t exactly a day off. So he’d offered to keep it open on Saturdays, to capitalize on all those hungry teenagers out and about in the warm weather, and give her a day to actually relax.

He hears the bell above the door ding, but knows that Tracy is puttering around out front, so he thinks nothing of it. At least until she appears in the doorway, face pinched like she’s uncomfortable. He straightens, frowning at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Theo frowns, and waits, expecting her to elaborate. When she simply stares back at him, he rolls his eyes and holds out the tube of icing towards her. She takes it from with a gleeful twinkle in her eyes. “Try not to eat all of it this time. It’s for the cupcakes, not your face.”

She snorts, slipping past him and bumping him with her hip to get him out of the way. As he makes for door, he glances back to see her swipe at the tube with her thumb, sticking chocolate icing into her mouth. “Tracy!”

“Okay, okay,” she mutters, and then continues where he’d left off. He wipes his hands on his apron and steps through the curtain to the front of the shop.

“Welcome to Queen of Tarts,” Theo says, “How can I—”

Mason stands there, face pressed against the display as he stares at all the cakes and pastries, grinning ear to ear. It stops him in his tracks, and he groans. “What are you doing here?”

“These are awesome!” Mason says, voice muffled by the glass. “Did you seriously make all these yourself?”

“You’re smudging the display case,” Theo snaps. Fingerprints are a damn bitch to clean from that thing. Mason pulls his eyes away, and they flicker up to meet him.

A laugh bubbles from his throat. “Oh, man! You know this totally ruins your bad boy image, right?”

“Shut up,” he glares, taking a menacing step towards the other boy. He shrinks back, looking panicked as his hands fly up at his sides, defensively.

“Just kidding!” Mason’s smile turns shaky.

“What do you want?” Theo tries again, this time sounding far less patient.

“I was just leaving the store across the street and getting into my car when I saw the sign out front.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder for emphasis. “Your sister’s name is under it.”

“That sometimes happens when someone owns a business.”

Mason beams at him. “Really? That’s awesome!”

Theo resists the urge to groan. “Was there a point to this visit, or did you come over just to annoy me?”

The grin widens dramatically, and Theo knows he’s in trouble. “Well, you see, I haven’t got a musical bone in my body. But my buddy Liam sure does. And on Saturdays, he works at Strings and Things to earn some cash for his dream guitar.”

His eyes narrow. They both know that music store is directly across the street. “I’m working.”

“I noticed.” Mason looks him up and down, then pulls his wallet from his pocket. “How much for a box of those butter tarts? They’re like, the house special, right?”

“And Liam’s favourite,” Theo points out, tone hesitant. Mason’s eyes glitter with joy, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. “Twenty dollars.”

He brandishes the correct bill. “I also noticed you do deliveries,” Mason continues, pointing at the sign on the counter that does, in fact, say they deliver upon request.

Theo’s face twists into a scowl. “You wouldn’t.”

Mason’s smile is anything but innocent as he places a second bill on the counter. Theo stares at it for a moment, wishing for all the world that looks could kill, before sighing. He unties the apron, whipping it angrily onto the back counter and grabbing a take away box. Theo piles twelve tarts into it, then glances over his shoulder. “Hey, Tracy? I’ll be right back. Delivery!”

“Whatever, T.”

He rolls his eyes, muttering: “At least she’s free help.”

“I can watch the counter for you,” Mason says cheerfully.

“Just don’t fucking touch anything,” Theo growls, then stomps out of the store. He crosses the street in a huff, barely taking the time to check for traffic, and winces at the happy little jingle that greets him inside the opposite store.

He’s never actually been in here before, despite working across the street for over a year and a half now. The place is bigger than he expects. There’s two rows of tables on either side of him, with a lane straight down the middle of the store. The boxes atop are filled with records to his left, and CDs to his right. There’s tons of recording equipment along one wall, while guitars of all shapes and colours hang down the other.

There’s only a handful of people in the store, but he spots Liam almost immediately. He’s talking animatedly to an older woman by a drum set in the very back. He’s not too far from the counter, but Theo figures he can walk up, drop the box off, and get out unnoticed.

He’s halfway there when he’s reminded that today is not his lucky day.

There’s a young girl looking at a small, black three-quarter acoustic guitar with her mother to his right. “Don’t you want something a little more...girly, sweetheart?” She asks, frowning down at her daughter. “What about the one there, with the flowers?”

“No! I want this one!” The girl shouts, stomping her foot and tugging on her mother’s perfectly manicured hand. The move’s a little aggressive, and clearly catches the woman off-guard, because she stumbles after her—and knocks her bony elbow right into Theo’s ribs.

He inhales sharply, balancing the box in one hand as best he can, swaying on his feet. Pain flares in his left hip as it smacks into the table, wobbling the box of CDs, and Theo curses. “Fuck! Watch it, will you?”

The woman gives him a dirty look, hands flying to cover her daughter’s ears. “Such inappropriate language when children are around.”

“I’m sure she’s heard worse from you and your husband,” he smirks, and the woman flushes. He can’t tell if it’s anger or embarrassment. He doesn’t care.

“Everything all right over here?” A voice says tightly. Theo’s eyes find Liam’s blue ones narrowed at him, and far closer than he was a moment ago. His arms are crossed, and he’s looking between the two.

“This young man knocked into me very rudely,” the woman says hotly, pulling her daughter against her. The little girl giggles.

“Actually, she—” Theo starts, but Liam shoots him an even dirtier look that the lady that has his mouth clamping shut.

“Sorry about him,” Liam says to the woman a split-second later, smiling kindly as he turns to face her. “He’s not great with people.”

“Obviously.” Her tone is clipped, and Theo resists the urge to upend the box of tarts on her.

“How about a ten percent discount for the trouble?” Liam smiles, hands on his knees as he bends over to look at the little girl. “You want the black one, right?”

“Yes, please!” The girl says before her mother can object. The woman’s scowling again, and Theo finds a sick sort of satisfaction in watching the way she glares at the back of Liam’s head as he plucks the guitar off the wall. She doesn’t say a word as she follows him to the counter to pay, not even a thank you as he hands her the receipt and wishes her a good day.

It’s not until they’re out of the store that Theo realizes the old woman has vanished, leaving them alone. Shit.

Liam stops two feet from him, hands shoved into his pockets.

“You know she bumped into me, right?” Theo defends himself, though he’s not sure why.

“I know,” Liam says. “Why do you think I went with the kid’s choice instead of hers?”

Theo fights the urge to smile. “Thanks, Dunbar.”

Liam ignores it, choosing instead to frown at him, tilting his head in a way that sort of reminds Theo of a puppy. “What are you doing here?”

He holds out the box in his right hand. “Delivery.”

Cautiously, Liam takes it from him, gaze scanning over the label. “This is from the place across the street.” His eyes flick up, assessing. “You work there?”

“Yeah,” Theo nods. Then adds, though he’s not sure why: “My sister owns it.”

Liam considers him a moment, then half-shrugs, flipping the box open. His eyes widen immediately with wonder, and he slams the box shut. This time, when he looks at Theo, there’s something like awe written on his face. “These are my favourite. How did you…?”

When Theo opens his mouth, it’s to tell the truth. After all, the kid would be pretty stupid not to put two and two together when his best friend had left maybe ten minutes ago, and then Theo had waltzed in with his preferred treat, when he’s literally never stepped foot in here.

Instead, something else comes out. “I’ve seen you in the shop before. I help out on weeknights, sometimes, in the back. I...I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was out of line.”

Liam stares at him, blinking, and Theo hopes like hell that unlike him, the shorter boy has actually crossed the damn street before. He hopes there’s some traction to his lie, because otherwise he’s about to embarass himself horribly. And he actually cares that he might.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” Liam says finally, and Theo lets go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watches him shift awkwardly from one foot to another. “So, um, is that it?”

The words tumblr forth before he can stop them. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

The awkward look sours immediately. “You’re apologizing for hitting on me by hitting on me again? Really?”

Theo’s hands fly up at his sides defensively. “No! No, that’s—I’m not hitting on you this time, I swear.” Liam looks unsure. “I promise. I just… I got caught up in the moment, and thought it would be fun to mess with you. But I was serious about offering my help with Biology, okay?”

The other boy’s forehead pinches into a frown. He can see the suspicion written clearly across his face. “Why?”

Theo bites at the inside of his cheek, fighting the words. Corey’s list hovers in the back of his mind, taunting him. A moment later, they’re slipping past his lips with a sigh. “I need your help, too. I’ve got a term paper due in a couple weeks, and I’ve barely written the opening paragraph.”

“Really?” He snickers. “You’re having trouble bullshitting an essay?”

“It’s not an essay. It’s a History paper.”

This catches Liam’s attention. Theo watches as his eyes brighten, his lips curving into a smile. “I love History!”

“Really?” Theo parrots, smirking. “Wouldn’t have figured, what with you being top of our class.”

Liam’s giving that considering look again, head tilted. His eyes flicker to the box of tarts in his hands, then back up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Theo blinks, hiding a hopeful tone.

“I’ll help you write your paper, if you help me pass Biology.”

The smile that stretches across his lips is genuine this time. “Deal.”

#thiam #thiammovieaufest #eliewrites #fic: just too good to be true #the link keeps fucking up #but i'm too tired to fix it #so here you go

21 notes · View notes

pnwdoodlesreads · 7 years

Link

OLATHE, Kan. — “The Jameson guys,” as some on the staff at Austins Bar and Grill knew the pair, were on the patio on Wednesday evening. It was hardly unusual: Srinivas Kuchibhotla and Alok Madasani, two immigrants from India, often enjoyed an after-work whiskey at the bar they had adopted as a hangout.

Adam W. Purinton was also there, tossing ethnic slurs at the two men and suggesting they did not belong in the United States, other customers said. Patrons complained, and Mr. Purinton was thrown out.

But a short time later, he came back in a rage and fired on the two men, the authorities said. Mr. Kuchibhotla was killed, and Mr. Madasani was wounded, along with a 24-year-old man who had tried to apprehend the gunman, who fled.

Mr. Purinton, 51, was extradited to Kansas from Missouri on Friday, and he is charged with premeditated first-degree murder and two counts of attempted premeditated first-degree murder.

The attack, which the federal and local authorities are investigating as a possible hate crime, reverberated far beyond both states. It raised new alarms about a climate of hostility toward foreigners in the United States, where President Trump has made clamping down on immigration a central plank of his “America first” agenda. The White House strongly rejected the notion that there might be any connection between the shooting and the new administration’s sharp language about immigration.

“People are devastated,” said Somil Chandwani, a friend of the two victims who lives in Overland Park, Kan. “I wouldn’t say they are angry. They have a sense of insecurity at the moment. People are trying to find answers.”

A charging document released on Friday gave no details about the motive for the shooting. Law enforcement officials in Kansas, citing the continuing investigation and judicial ethics standards, said little about the episode.

Still, the F.B.I.’s role in the inquiry suggested that officials had found some evidence that could eventually lead to civil rights charges in connection with the shooting, which occurred around 7:15 p.m. Wednesday.

“He snapped, and this is not his typical self,” the suspect’s mother, Marsha Purinton, said before declining further comment.

In a brief phone interview on Friday night, Mr. Madasani described the remarks made Wednesday by the man sitting near him and Mr. Kuchibhotla at the restaurant. “He asked us what visa are we currently on and whether we are staying here illegally,” Mr. Madasani said. (Both men were educated in the United States and were working here legally.)

“We didn’t react,” Mr. Madasani said. “People do stupid things all the time. This guy took it to the next level.”

Mr. Madasani said he went in to get a manager, and by the time he returned to the patio, the man was being escorted out.

After Mr. Purinton was thrown out, Jeremy Luby, 41, a software developer, said he offered to pick up the tab for the two men, who thanked him during a brief conversation about work and cultural differences.

“It was wrong what happened to them,” Mr. Luby said. “I thought it was a nice gesture to say, ‘I’m sorry someone was being rude to you like that.’”

After the shooting began, another patron, Ian Grillot, 24, said he tried to count the shots while he hid under a table. Thinking the gunman had run out of ammunition, Mr. Grillot said, he confronted him, only to be shot in the hand and the chest.

“It wasn’t right, and I didn’t want the gentleman to potentially go after somebody else,” Mr. Grillot said in a video released by the hospital where he received treatment. “He did it once. What would stop him from doing it again?”

The shots echoed around the area, and Chris Lacross soon emerged from a store a few doors down to an unimaginable scene: an emergency medical technician performing CPR on a man lying in the doorway of the bar’s front patio, where tables and chairs had been flipped over, and someone was shouting that they needed towels.

Another man took off his shirt and applied pressure to the wound of another victim, who was writhing in pain, said Mr. Lacross, who allowed some people to use a store restroom to wash away spattered blood.

Within minutes, an emergency dispatcher, in a transmission archived by the Broadcastify website, told officers, “We’re being advised the suspect’s name is Adam, and he’s a white male wearing a white shirt with military medals.”

Capt. Sonny Lynch, the deputy chief of police in Clinton, Mo., where Mr. Purinton was arrested at an Applebee’s restaurant, said a bartender there called the police after a customer confessed to his involvement in a shooting hours earlier.

“He was talking to her — ‘I’m on the run; I’m hiding out from the law’ — so she stuck around,” Captain Lynch said of the bartender. “She just hung out there talking to the guy until he said, ‘I shot those guys, and that’s why I’m hiding out from the police.’”

Mr. Purinton was arrested without incident, Captain Lynch said, and invoked his constitutional rights. It was not clear whether he had a lawyer.

Mr. Purinton spent time in the Navy and, according to a website where veterans can list their military records, was deployed aboard the Long Beach, a missile cruiser, from 1988 to 1990. He later worked for the Federal Aviation Administration but left the agency in 2000, a spokeswoman said.

In Johnson County, Kan., at least, he has had few run-ins with law enforcement. Court records showed a limited history: a speeding ticket in 2008, as well as a 1999 drunken-driving charge that was dismissed.

A neighbor, Lisa Puckett, said that Mr. Purinton was frequently intoxicated but that news of a shooting was stunning.

“We always wondered if he might hurt himself, but we didn’t think he would hurt someone else,” she said.

The dead man, Mr. Kuchibhotla, worked for Garmin, a GPS navigation and communications device company. One of the wounded men, Mr. Madasani, like Mr. Kuchibhotla in his early 30s, also worked for Garmin, according to the Indian government. On Friday, counselors were at the company’s campus in Olathe, a hub of South Asian immigrants where 84 languages are spoken in the local school district.

Speaking to reporters on Friday at the Garmin headquarters, Mr. Kuchibhotla’s widow, Sunayana Dumala, said she had long been worried by shootings she read about in the newspaper.

“I, especially, I was always concerned, are we doing the right thing of staying in the United States of America?” she said. “But he always assured me that only good things happen to good people.”

Now, Ms. Dumala said, she needed “an answer from the government” about what “they’re going to do to stop this hate crime.”

Mr. Madasani’s father, Jagan Mohan Reddy, a government engineer in Hyderabad, India, said his family was in shock. He said he did not know whether he would ask Mr. Madasani, who received a graduate degree from the University of Missouri-Kansas City, and another son living in the United States to leave the country.

“We have to think it over,” he said. “My sons are not new to America. They have been staying there for the last 10 to 12 years. This is a new situation, and they are the best judges.”

Mr. Madasani, who has been released from the hospital, said he was recovering physically and mentally. “I’m definitely doing much better, but it’s not over yet,” he said.

On Friday, Mr. Kuchibhotla’s killing and the wounding of Mr. Madasani led to a chorus of fury in India, where the attack dominated the news media to such an extent that the top American diplomat in the country was compelled to issue a statement condemning what she described as a “tragic and senseless act.”

In Washington, the White House press secretary, Sean Spicer, rejected any link between Mr. Trump’s policy agenda and the shooting, which many Indians believed might have been inspired by the president’s harsh tone on immigration.

The Justice Department is under pressure to bring federal charges in the case. Moussa Elbayoumy, the board chairman for the Kansas chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, said the government should “consider filing hate crime charges in order to send a strong message that violence targeting religious or ethnic minorities will not be tolerated.”

On Friday night, a diverse crowd of more than 400 gathered to grieve at First Baptist Church down the street from the bar. They offered their prayers to the Kuchibhotlas and the Madasanis, characterized the shooting as an anomaly in an otherwise peaceful, tolerant suburb and vowed they would not let that change.

“As a community, we are still shocked, devastated, and angry,” Mayor Michael Copeland said. “But this is not how this ends. This is not our Olathe.”

He added, “One evil act does not divide a united community.”

Mr. Purinton was scheduled to appear in court on Monday. Austins, meanwhile, planned to reopen on Saturday.

#HATE CRIME

0 notes