Inglorious Roomates

Chapter 6

When would past-Theo learn?

He should have known that his jackass of a roommate wouldn't stick to his end of the deal. He might as well have dug up Julius Caesar and asked his advice on trusting people, because that worked out so well for him right? 'No morning workouts' be damned, Theo would gladly run barefoot through the woods—or take 23 knives to the gut—than ever make a deal with Liam again.

Maybe that was extreme, but Theo saw this coming.

Everything had been flowing much too smoothly for there not to be a clusterfuck of razor sharp rocks at the bottom.

They tailed this guy, royal highness Dickhead-Jake, for 2 hours. There were worse ways to spend a Thursday night, Theo supposed, than staking out the Pike frat house with Liam Dunbar, or 'running a covert recon operation' as Special Agent Fuckhead insisted on calling it.

They had to decide how to lure Dickhead-Jake out of the house, an argument that lasted the better part of those 2 hours. Theo would consider that smooth sailing for the two of them.

So the plan was to have the girl who complained about Dickhead-Jake, message him to meet her in the parking lot of a coin laundry. Then surprise! He gets his ass handed to him. Theo argued no one was stupid enough to show up to a sketchy dark area, but Liam turned out right. This guy was really desperate and really dumb.

It was a foolproof plan. Everything fell into place when Dickhead-Jake arrived for his unsuspected can of whoop-ass.

Until Liam decided, to hell with it all and went off script.

So now, they were plastered against the side of the building, whisper-shouting at each other.

"Listen, you little Hillside runt," Theo said through clenched teeth, glaring hard enough to turn Liam into a pile of ashes, "No chance"

Liam pushed off the building but Theo threw a sideways arm over his chest.

"I'm gonna take this one. Just this one time," Liam struggled against Theo's hold.

"What part of 'fly on the wall' don't you get?" Theo seethed, "Did you damage your brain when you steamrolled Corey like a piece of paper? You don't know how—"

He was cut off by Liam yanking him off the wall and roughly pulling him further behind the building, out of earshot of Dickhead-Jake.

"How to what, hm? How to fight?" Liam demanded, quiet but with fierce determination. "You think it's some kind of art form sacred to you, Westside? Here's some insight, you don't have to be goddamn Picasso to throw a punch."

Theo regarded him for a moment, stifling his own riled emotions. He thought back to that time in the locker room after their first lacrosse game, when he hit Liam, punched him right in the face and Liam did nothing. He remembered how Liam stood there, containing his fury, like a fire blazing in a glass bottle. He wanted to hit Theo back, but he was proving something to the rest of the team.

That he wouldn't stoop to Theo's level.

Now Liam looked like he had something new to prove. He wanted Theo to release him, to twist the lid and let him break free to crash and burn. And Theo—fucked up Theo—hoped it would be fireworks.

"Fine." Welcome to the trenches, Dunbar. "Put up or shut up, tough guy."

A smirk spread across Liam's lips as he took a few steps back, holding his arms out to the sides. "What'd you say before? I'm all brawl and ballet, right? So watch me pirouette this dickhead." He accentuated his point by, Honest to God, skipping to twirl around the air.