All Our Sensitivity

chapter seventeen - more blackmail

Theodore was late.

To be exact, he was 23 minutes late to picking up Nate from Vincent's house.

They had plans to go to Theodore's apartment after Nate had finished his movie night with his friend group; these were plans that were made days before. Nate had even confirmed in the morning that Theodore could pick him up at 6pm, and Theodore had said he would be there, at that time, on the dot. Theodore had never been late—and while Nate felt silly for worrying, he did. He had texted Theodore after 10 minutes just to check up on where he was. Then, that time doubled, and no response was given.

"Nate, buddy, stop worrying," Vincent said as he nudged the anxious man in the shoulder. "Seriously, he might have fallen asleep or something."

"But what if he like... died or realized he hated me?"

Everyone exhibited a loud groan in response; Nate's insecurities were becoming too outlandish, even for his usual self.

"I love you dearly, but I swear to god if you say something like that one more time I will kick your ass because it's not even remotely true or reasonable," Zivia replied.

Nate sighed. "I guess you're right. Still, it could happen."

"Okay, yeah, a lot of things could happen but it doesn't mean that it's likely! I could be shot by a sniper right now but it's probably not going to-"

Message. Theodore. Now: i'm so sorry i'm on my way i'll be there in a couple min

An ounce of relief entered Nate's system, but he was still alarmed. He didn't think Theodore would be so late without saying a word and then send a frantic-sounding text nearly 30 minutes later without some sort of explanation. The text didn't have any exclamations or emoticons like Theodore would typically use. Something seemed off, and the anticipation of waiting to meet with Theodore was becoming so loud that he could barely think.

The five friends talked some more about drama at Amiel's work until Nate got a final text that determined that Theodore had arrived. With his body in anxiety shakes, he hugged his friends goodbye, gathered his belongings, and made it through the front door and onto the porch. Music was playing from Miss Georgia quite loudly, so the car was easy to locate at the end of the driveway; it was Radiohead, so Nate knew that it was the man he was looking for. Nate trailed his fingertips across the side of the familiar vehicle until he was able to slip them into the handle, and open it.

The music immediately died down, and Nate could sense that the energy radiating off of Theodore was tense.

"Hi," Theodore spoke—his voice filled with uneasiness. "I'm so sorry."

Nate furrowed his brow. He only got more concerned when he heard Theodore sniffle quietly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

There were a few seconds of silence where Theodore seemed to be debating what to say. Nate grew more and more anxious as time passed.

"Um," Theodore began with a quivering voice. "I saw my dad."

Even though it was a simple sentence, it hit Nate like a ton of bricks. He knew that Theodore didn't have a healthy relationship with his dad and that he hadn't seen him in a while. He could only imagine how awful Theodore felt if he sounded that bad after it had happened.

"I'm so sorry," Nate consoled.

"Do you think we can just go on a walk?"

"O-Of course."

The car ride was silent. Nate had never witnessed Theodore be that upset before. It didn't help that he was unsure of what to do anytime someone was in distress; turns out it's extremely hard to pick up social cues when you cannot see a person's facial reactions or body language. Plus, any sort of physical consoling was thrown out the window unless Nate wanted to fumble around somebody's body so that he could hold their hand or give them a hug without the other person initiating it.