Sebastian started blushing and stuttering the moment the words left Theo's mouth.
His mouth opened and closed several times, his hands fluttering uselessly at his sides, the tweed blazer suddenly looking more like a costume than an outfit. He looked between Theo and Kota like he was waiting for the punchline, for the hidden camera to reveal itself, for someone to laugh and say it was all a joke.
"You're—you're certain you want me to tag along? I wouldn't want to intrude on your—your outing. Your couple's outing. Which I'm sure is very romantic and private and absolutely not in need of a third wheel, especially a third wheel who just walked in on you in a state of, well, undress, and there were the—the items on the floor—not that I'm thinking about them, I've already forgotten them completely, wiped from my memory, they never existed—"
He was spiraling. Theo and Kota watched him spiral, the teacher's hands now gesturing wildly as he tried to play off the invitation like it was something he was totally accustomed to receiving.
"I've been invited to things before, obviously. Many things. Countless things. I was quite popular at Oxford, you know. The debating society, the rowing club, the, the wine tasting association. I attended so many social functions that I simply lost track. My calendar was perpetually full. People were always saying, 'Sebastian, come to this thing, we simply must have you there.' It was almost exhausting, really."
He paused for breath, his face still crimson, and clapped his hands together once in a gesture that was meant to be decisive but came across as deeply panicked.
"I simply don't remember how these things go. The protocol. The etiquette. Is there a specific way one behaves at a shopping excursion? Are there rules? A dress code? Should I bring something? A gift? A charcuterie board? I can prepare a charcuterie board very quickly."
Then he caught himself, his eyes widening as he replayed his own words. "Wait. I mean I do know how this goes. Obviously I know. My memory is just—it's a bit fuzzy. From all the other social engagements. The countless other times I've been invited places. By people. Who like me." He winced at his own phrasing. "Being invited to go shopping is something that friends do, correct? That's a friend activity?"
Kota raised an eyebrow, his hoodie now fully on, his arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah? Like, I've never actually gone shopping before, but you don't invite someone you don't like to come with you. That's pretty basic."
Sebastian nodded rapidly, his head bobbing like a dashboard ornament. "Yes, yes, of course. I knew that. I was simply—I was verifying. For your sake. To make sure you knew. Which you do. Because you're the one who invited me." His voice trailed off, and then he rewound the conversation in his head, his eyes going even wider.
"You said 'like.' You said you don't invite someone you don't like. Which means you—you like me? Platonically, of course. Exclusively platonically. Though I have heard of something called 'friends with benefits,' which I understand is a modern arrangement where—but no, never mind that, that's not—we're not—I'm not suggesting—"
Kota watched Sebastian's soul visibly leave his body in real time. It was almost impressive how quickly the man could tie himself into knots.
"Should I dress up?" Sebastian asked, his voice slightly strangled. "For the shopping. Do I need a different blazer? This one has leather elbow patches. Some people find leather elbow patches pretentious. I find them distinguished. But I can change if they're too pretentious for the venue. Where are we going? Is it a boutique? A department store? A, a mall? I've never been to a mall. Not for shopping. I went once for academic research on consumer culture and its impact on postmodern identity formation. I took extensive notes. I still have the notes. They're very thorough."
Theo let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. He had managed to find a spare shirt in one of his desk drawers, a plain white button up that was slightly too big for him but at least covered his chest. He was buttoning it with one hand while the other reached out and gently patted Sebastian's shoulder. "You're so cute when you're flustered. How about we just go now? No need to overthink it."
Sebastian's brain came to a screeching halt. "Now? Like—now now? Immediately? As in this very moment? We're leaving the school grounds right now? In the middle of the school day? But what about our responsibilities? Our obligations? Our—"
"Now," Theo confirmed, buttoning the last button. "We'll make a quick stop at my house first. I need to change into something that isn't covered in—well. Something that isn't this."
Sebastian's blush, which had been slowly fading, returned with a vengeance. "Of course. Of course. A wardrobe change. Sensible. Logical. I fully support it."
As they walked out of the office and into the attendance hall, Mr. Delago appeared like a specter from around the corner. The science teacher was holding a stack of papers and a coffee cup, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw the three of them. His gaze swept over Theo's borrowed shirt, Kota's rumpled hoodie, and Sebastian's bright red face.
"Principal Hawthorne," Mr. Delago said slowly, his voice carrying that particular tone of suspicion that all teachers seemed to master by their third year. "Where are you three heading? Classes are still in session."
Theo froze. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He was a terrible liar under pressure, his brain emptying completely the moment someone asked him a direct question he couldn't answer honestly. His hands fluttered at his sides, his cheeks flushing, his eyes darting toward Kota with a desperate plea for help.
Sebastian, somehow, was even worse. He stepped forward with the wild energy of a man who had decided that the best defense was a completely incomprehensible offense. "Well you see Mr. Delago the situation is rather multifaceted and involves several interconnected variables that I shall now elucidate in detail beginning with the fact that Principal Hawthorne's shirt was damaged in a tragic accident involving a rogue stapler and a cup of Earl Grey tea that I myself was carrying which spilled and necessitated an immediate change of clothing but also there was a phone call from Theodore Hawthorne Senior regarding an urgent matter pertaining to investment portfolios and educational endowments which required Principal Hawthorne's immediate presence at the family estate and I offered to accompany him as a fellow academic professional to provide moral support and also Kota is here because he has a very impressive grade point average and might be able to contribute to the financial discussion given his demonstrated aptitude for mathematics which I have personally observed in his essays on postmodern narrative structure—"
Kota cut him off by physically stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We have a meeting with Theo's dad. It's business stuff. I'm just here for the ride."
Mr. Delago's eyes narrowed further. "Two questions. What does a student have anything to do with Theodore Hawthorne Senior of all people? And why is Principal Hawthorne's button up ripped? That's clearly a tear, not a stapler accident."
Kota opened his mouth to answer, but Sebastian, apparently incapable of learning from his mistakes, lunged forward again. "The button situation is related to the previously mentioned stapler incident which I realize now I failed to fully explain as the stapler was actually a heavy duty industrial model that had been left in the faculty lounge by the maintenance staff and when I attempted to use it the mechanism jammed and in my efforts to repair it I accidentally launched a staple directly at Principal Hawthorne's shirt which caused not only the tear you see before you but also a chain reaction involving the copy machine and a very startled janitor who was passing by at that exact moment and the reason Kota is involved is because he witnessed the entire sequence of events and offered to drive Principal Hawthorne to the mansion since his vision was temporarily impaired by the reflection of the staple in the fluorescent lighting which is honestly a workplace safety concern that should be addressed at the next board meeting—"
Kota grabbed Sebastian by the arm and physically pushed him toward the main entrance. Theo, looking deeply relieved, hurried after them. "Next time," Kota said, his voice flat but not unkind, "let me do the talking. Both of you. No more talking."
Theo nodded, his face still bright red. "Sorry. I panicked. I always panic when people ask me direct questions. It's a reflex."
Sebastian nodded even more frantically. "I deeply apologize. I have a condition where my mouth continues to produce words even when my brain has evacuated the premises. It's been a lifelong struggle. I've written several essays about it. None of them were published."