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The night shift was usually a drag.
Josh thanked his lucky stars that no one ever really cared to check the security cameras, or else he’d be out on his ass with how much of his 8-hour shift he spends scrolling through his phone to kill the time.
He worked the night shift at the 24-Mart, a gas station a 15-minute walk from his apartment. It was called the 24-Mart because, articulately, it was open 24 hours, but not 24/7. The owners kept it closed on Sundays, the Lord’s day, which was incredibly inconvenient— ironic for a convenience store— for churchgoers who needed to stop for gas and something sinful to sip on after their weekly worship sesh. Or whatever the fuck it is people do at Sunday church. Josh wouldn’t know. He stopped going once his parents stopped using McDonald’s as an incentive.
There weren’t a ton of people who came into the store after 10 pm, the start of Josh’s shift. Sometimes a couple of stragglers would wander in, ask for “$50 on 2” with not a please nor a thank you, but Josh didn’t complain. Niceties often led to small talk, which led to Josh having to listen to people’s stories, just passing through, no, I definitely have not been drinking tonight, I am safe to drive. He preferred nights when he didn’t have to call the police.
Plus, he just wasn’t much of a talker.
That was why he preferred the night shift. Anyone awake enough to show up between the hours of 10 pm and 6 am was either too drunk or too tired to care much for conversation anyway. And that was Josh’s ideal.
So he played a bit of Candy Crush and waited for the bell on the door to jingle. Not that he was greeting the customer anyway. Just keeping his eyes up.
It was 1:32 in the morning when Josh’s first customer in at least an hour and a half wandered in. He was sure they didn’t drive; he would have heard a car pull up if they had, and knew someone was coming in. That was why he barely managed to catch a glimpse of the kid before they were hidden behind the aisles of candy. He could tell they had short brown hair, messy and sticking up in spots, and that they were probably not much taller and not much older than he was. That was it. He watched in the direction of their rustling until he could get a better look.
When the kid turned around an endcap, Josh noticed they seemed to be in a state of… well, distress, to put it simply. One hand was locked tight around the collar of their hoodie, and their eyes were darkened, maybe bloodshot? Josh couldn’t tell from his post behind the counter. The kid was searching around very erratically for something Josh reckoned he definitely wouldn’t be finding with the chips and pretzels. Any good customer service associate would take this opportunity to ask the kid if he needed help finding anything.
Josh was not a good customer service associate.
The kid never looked at Josh, never acknowledged him once. Not even when he stopped at the counter to drop a gasoline container, a pack of reusable razor refills, and an assortment of cleaning products, including Clorox bleach. Weird kid, Josh thought.
He seemed different from the usual meth heads that came in on occasion, which was what Josh had initially assumed he was. The behaviors were off. Maybe he was on some mystery drug Josh had never come across, but the way he sniffled nonstop and twirled his hair had Josh’s full attention, his shitty mobile game long forgotten.
Josh watched the brunet reemerge from the liquor aisle, arms full of a selection of booze so random that Josh was sure he just grabbed the first things he saw, with no rhyme or reason or thought as to what he was actually searching for. He placed the cans and bottles on the counter, eyes darting around the impulse shelves for one last thing. He grabbed a pack of lighters and slid them into his smorgasbord of items, tucking both hands into his pockets. He still never looked at Josh.
“ID,” Josh said simply. He didn’t know what this dude was getting up to tonight, but he wasn’t about to go down for selling all this shit to an under-21 trying to get his kicks. Or maybe he could get some quick info if he needed to get the cops involved.
Josh loved his job.
The kid pulled his wallet out of his pocket and dug for his ID, handing it to Josh. Josh took note of the fact that the kid was actually not a kid, and was a 23-year-old born in December named Tyler. He glanced between him and his ID photo, which had to have been taken when he was still in high school. The smile on his face had straightened into a firm line now, and the light in his forest brown eyes had darkened, glossed over with something Josh couldn’t quite identify. But it was still the same kid standing before him. He handed him back his ID and started scanning the items.
“Fun night ahead?” Josh wasn’t much for small talk, but he shot a small smile to the boy across the counter.
“No.” Alright, bad sign. Awesome. Or he just wasn’t in the mood to put up with Josh’s games. Normally, Josh would let down. But there was something about this guy…
Josh decided to press. The kid was obviously up to no good. “Crimes?”
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know.” He spoke low, almost under his breath, and Josh imagined his tone rattled in his chest. It took all of Josh’s effort not to imitate his tone to see how it felt. He kept scanning.
“What’re you gonna, like, kill yourself?”
Josh chuckled. He meant it as a joke. A painfully unfunny joke. He didn’t even look at the kid, just scanned in the pack of lighters. He hoped the kid, Tyler, would laugh with him, or at least tell him to get lost, freak.
But Tyler didn’t laugh.
“Yeah.”
Josh stopped scanning. He froze altogether, his gaze slowly moving back up to Tyler’s eyes. They were glued to Josh’s hands, watching him scan all his items. Bleach, gasoline, razors, lighters, liquor. It was like he searched “how to kill yourself” online and just went for it.
“Seriously?” Josh’s hands started to shake, and he willed them to sit still. Tyler only nodded. “With all of this?” Josh gestured to all the items on the counter, half scanned in and half sitting there untouched, waiting to be paid for. Tyler shrugged. Josh noticed he did that a lot. Like he was unsure of what he was saying. Though he didn’t seem the type to say something without certainty.
“Just covering my bases. Whichever works first.” Scratch that, maybe he did.
Tyler finally glanced up and made contact with Josh's eyes, and Josh felt his stomach tie up in knots. Even if the look was only for a quarter of a second.
Josh shook his head, gathering all the items on the counter together and starting to cancel his sale, “I’m sorry, man, I can’t sell you this.”
Tyler looked annoyed, to say the least. Inconvenienced. His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked into Josh’s eyes for more than just a moment, jaw tightening.
“Seriously?”
Josh didn’t speak, just cocked his head with sympathy. He hoped his face apologized enough, because he didn’t really know the words to have this conversation with Tyler.
Tyler sighed, breaking eye contact and looking out the door, his leg starting to shake. “Can I at least get the gas?”
“You got a car?”
“Yes.” Tyler hesitated before he answered, knowing full well he was caught red-bicycled, but hoping Josh would realize that he wasn’t getting paid enough to care about his well-being.
Unfortunately for Tyler, this was the most entertainment Josh had had in a shift all week. And it was Saturday. “Nice try.”
“Y’know what, fuck you, man,” Tyler rolled his eyes, placing his hands on the edge of the counter and pushing off to take a couple of steps back. The sudden change in his attitude caught Josh off guard, causing him to straighten his spine and tense up in his arms, “There are plenty of other gas stations around that I can go to, I don’t need yours.”
“There’s not if I call the police and tell them there’s a rogue teenager biking around northern Columbus trying to kill himself.” Josh probably wasn’t going to do that. But Tyler didn’t need to know that.
“I’m not a teenager, dickhead.” The way Tyler swore was like it was unnatural for him, reminding Josh of a middle schooler who finally learned that what his mother doesn’t hear won't hurt her.
“I don’t need a gas station, I can just…” Tyler looked around the store quickly, his gaze stopping on a spot out of one of the windows, “Walk into traffic.”
“What traffic? It’s almost 2 in the morning, you’d be lucky if a single car came down before you got bored and left. Even luckier if he doesn’t see you in the road and stop.” Josh gave Tyler a look that said Really? and slid his hands across the counter in thought. He wasn’t too good with comebacks. This was probably the most he’d spoken to a customer in the 8 months since he was hired. “Seems like you don’t really know what you’re doing.”
Tyler didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at Josh as he turned on his heel and started to walk towards the exit, much slower than Josh would have thought someone fueled with disdain for him would walk, not to mention someone who was actively looking for ways to not be alive in the next hour.
And, oh my god, Josh realized, this kid was actually about to go find a way to not be alive in the next hour. That wasn’t made up; he didn’t lie to him. He said it because he was true. He said it because, well, what was Josh going to do?
What was Josh going to do?
“Okay, wait, stop.” Josh put his hands up and moved to the entrance of the cash wrap, where there was no longer a barrier between him and Tyler, and Tyler could get a good look at Josh’s truly heinous yellow sneakers. Josh glanced down at his shoes in embarrassment, but quickly decided it was better that he was wearing them, because Tyler had stopped walking just to raise an eyebrow at them. “Just… hold on a second.”
Tyler didn’t move. His eyes remained trained on Josh’s Converse. They flicked up to Josh’s hair once, twice, like he was trying to decide if it was tacky or cool that his shoes matched the color on top of his head.
Josh took one more step forward, finally outside of the counter. He put his hands together, digging his thumb into his palm. “You don’t want to kill yourself.”
“Um, yeah, I do, shithead, that’s why I said it.” Tyler scoffed. This wasn’t worth the fight. He took another step toward the door. He was close enough to put his hand against the latch and push, but as soon as he started to put pressure on the latch, he felt Josh’s hand lay gently on his arm. He held his breath, frozen where he stood.
Josh felt Tyler tense up where his hand met his arm, heard his breath catch in his throat. He waited a moment, two, for Tyler to give him any sort of reaction, but he didn’t. Josh spoke up.
“No, you don’t, that’s why you said it. There’s obviously still some part of you that wants to keep going, that’s why you told me. Whether you know it or not.”
Tyler wasn’t going to deal with this. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t about to be psychoanalyzed by a night cashier at the 24-Mart. That was insane. That wasn’t how he was supposed to spend his night. He needed to leave.
“Yeah, okay. See ya never, cash.”
Tyler pushed harder against the door until it popped open, but Josh’s hand, which previously lay limp against Tyler’s arm, suddenly tightened around his wrist. Tyler wanted to shake him off, to push him away, but he couldn’t move. Against all his better judgment, he stayed put. Like something was calling him to stay.
“Please. You can hang out here until the end of my shift, I just…” Josh started, searching Tyler’s face for a single shred of hope, or a hint that he might concede. “I can’t have you leave and have something terrible happen to you, knowing what I know and knowing I did nothing. Please stay.”
Tyler wished the floor would collapse under his feet, taking him with it and leaving Josh on the surface. He willed his eyes to burn a hole through the glass on the door, or maybe through his hand. It didn’t work. He wanted to leave, needed to leave. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t remember the last breath he took; was he holding his breath? Or had he just not inhaled in a minute? Either way, his head started to feel light. His eyes darted around the door as if they were searching for another way out.
“Or I can call the police. Your choice.”
And then Tyler’s body moved before his mind could even catch up.
He let go of the door. It latched closed. His hand fell limply to his side, Josh’s grip still tight around his wrist. His lungs found the air his nose had been fighting to keep out. His tongue found the words his mind had been scrambling to piece together.
“How long is your shift?”
Josh let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and he couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He let go of Tyler’s arm.
“Um… maybe 4 more hours? But you don’t have to like… do anything. You can just sit. By the counter. Or behind the counter. No one will know. No one would care.” Josh reached up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, and he was realizing that he actually just asked this suicidal stranger to hang out at work with him all night, where he would be bored as shit.
He waited for Tyler to speak. He waited for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it only took about 15 seconds for Tyler to make a quick decision on what he should do.
“Can I at least buy some of that liquor if you’re not going to let me leave?”
Josh nodded, perhaps too enthusiastically, “Yeah, sure, totally,” he smiled, “But, ah, not any of the ones you picked out.”
Tyler flinched at that, blinking hard. “Why not?”
“Because you picked some of the nastiest shit on the market, dude.” Josh rolled his eyes, and though he didn’t see it, Tyler did the same.
“I’m not a drinker. I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“Well, you don’t seem like a beer guy,” Josh started, gathering all the liquor on the counter to start putting it away, “Whiskey?”
Tyler shrugged, “Sure. You pick.”
Josh nodded and started to restock the random selection of booze that Tyler had grabbed, setting aside a bottle of Crown Royal Vanilla. He figured Tyler was a vanilla guy.
He brought the bottle back to the counter after he was finished and saw that Tyler had brought a packet of red Solo cups to buy as well. Josh crinkled his nose.
“Whiskey in a Solo cup?” he questioned, looking between the cups and Tyler. Tyler’s eyes darted around the store, landing on anything and everything except for Josh.
“Is that wrong?”
“Not wrong,” Josh said, beginning a transaction and scanning the cups in, “Just… unconventional?”
Tyler chuckled, and Josh felt his heart flutter at finally getting this guy to smile.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”
Josh finished out the transaction, coming out to just under $28, and Tyler paid with cash. Josh slid the Crown and the cups over to Tyler, who popped the bottle open right there on the counter, and Josh flinched. Tyler noticed, looking up at Josh.
“This cool?”
No, obviously it was not cool. But Josh wasn’t about to say that, and Tyler had already started. Besides, who was there to stop him?
“Yeah, go right ahead.”
Tyler screwed the lid off the bottle, hovering it under his nose to get a whiff of the drink inside. He grimaced, placing the bottle back down on the counter, mumbling something along the lines of “alrighty then” or “good lord.” Maybe both. Josh wasn’t paying much attention beyond memorizing the color of Tyler’s eyes.
You know, for recognition purposes.
“It’s not that bad,” Josh pushed, “The smell is great, actually. You’re judging it before you even try it, come on.”
“People hate this stuff,” Tyler said as he tore open the bag of cups, taking out two. Josh wasn’t sure why. Surely Tyler knew he couldn’t drink on the job.
That being said, he also can’t harbor an at-risk adult in the store and let him drink at the cash wrap. Rules were out the window tonight.
Josh leaned over the counter, arms crossed over the top. “If you think you’re gonna hate alcohol so bad, why were you trying to buy, like, seven different kinds?”
“Doesn’t matter how it tastes if you’re not alive to remember it,” Tyler said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and it was ridiculous that Josh couldn’t put it together. “Alcohol poisoning, loss of balance, a number of things that could kill you.”
Right. Of course. Josh didn’t think of that. He felt his face fall, his stomach falling with it. He could point out again how Tyler was completely unprepared for this. He could mention that it was kind of pointless to go through all these methods at the same time if he wasn’t going to be around to see the results. But he kept quiet.
He watched Tyler attempt to pick up the bottle and pour it into a cup, only for its awkward shape to slip out of his hands, causing a couple of drops to spill on the counter. Josh took it out of his hands and poured it himself, just a small amount in each cup.
“I’m Josh, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know.” Tyler said, picking up one of the cups and examining the liquid inside, “Says so on your name tag. I can read.”
Josh looked down at his shirt, completely forgetting about the name stuck to his chest. He felt silly, but he didn’t let it show.
“Well, not everyone reads it.”
It was quiet in the store. Tyler didn’t reply. The only sound was the ticking of the clock and the gentle sloshing of the liquor in Tyler’s cup. He slowly held it up to his lips, but not before taking one more dig at Josh.
“Your shirt is dumb.”
Low blow, douchebag.
Josh looked down at his shirt again. It was yellow with accents of blue, and yeah, it was dumb. It clashed with his hair, to make matters worse, but it wasn’t like any other hair color would make the shirt less offensive.
“It’s a uniform. I have to wear it.” Josh rolled his eyes, taking his own cup in his hand and tilting it towards Tyler in a half-hearted ‘cheers’. “Yours is cool.”
They took a sip of their drinks at the same time, and while Josh downed his with no reaction, the same could not be said for Tyler, who sputtered and gagged and spat the liquid back into his cup.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, slamming his cup back onto the counter and continuing to spit the taste out of his mouth and into the cup.
Josh nearly burst out laughing. “Come on, man, it’s not that bad.”
The sheer venom in the glare Tyler shot in Josh’s direction could have taken out a small army of mice, and that just made Josh laugh harder.
“You could have told me it would feel like swallowing battery acid.”
“Well, maybe I would have warned you if it did, but it definitely doesn’t.” Josh tilted his head. “You have a lot of experience tasting battery acid?”
“Licked a couple batteries as a kid.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Surely you’d know the difference.”
Tyler smirked, and that was enough of a smile for Josh to feel warmth rise in his chest again. He watched the way Tyler sucked on his teeth as he worked to get the last of the taste of Crown out of his mouth.
“What does that even mean?” Josh asked.
“It means you’re dumb enough to have consumed enough battery acid to know the difference.” Tyler looked back down at the counter, embarrassed. “I don’t know. I thought it was a sick burn, but it’s actually really stupid.”
Josh slid his hand across the counter until it was close to Tyler’s arms, which were crossed on top of the counter. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could feel that he was there.
“If you’re being mean to push me away, it’s not going to work. I have three younger siblings.”
Tyler didn’t answer. He didn’t even acknowledge that Josh was there, or that he said anything. His eyes were glossed over, and his breathing was shallow, his eyes fixed on one spot on the counter by Josh’s elbow. Josh wasn’t quite sure what to do. He didn’t know what was happening. It was like he was there in the room, physically, but nobody was home behind his eyelids.
He decided he should keep talking. Maybe Tyler was listening. Worst case, he was talking to himself.
“Younger siblings are the worst,” he started, “The attitudes on those kids. Ashley’s the older one. She’s 22. She respects me… a little bit— but the worst is Jordan, he’s the third kid, he’s 18, so he’s at that weird age for boys where they think they’re grown, because legally they’re adults, but they’re still the same assholes they were when they were 15. The youngest is Abigail. She is actually 15. She’s a good kid, she gets good grades, she’s got a lot of friends, she thinks she has time for boys, but dad’s keeping her on a short leash.”
He paused and watched Tyler’s face for any changes. His gaze flicked around to other various spots on the counter before fixating on Josh’s hand. Josh followed his eyes and noticed that his hand had migrated an inch or two, and his thumb was resting on Tyler’s elbow, gently running back and forth across the fabric of his hoodie.
He felt his face flush as he pulled his hand away, but Tyler was quicker than him. Suddenly, his hand was completely enveloped in Tyler’s, who pulled it back near his arm and tucked his hand back where it was before. Josh’s heart leaped into his throat, and he swallowed hard to keep it from flying out of his mouth. He returned his hand to its spot on Tyler’s elbow and continued to run his thumb back and forth.
“Do you have any siblings?” Josh opened the floor for Tyler to speak, hoping he might, but expecting that he probably wouldn’t.
“I have three younger siblings,” Tyler said without lifting his gaze.
Josh smiled. He found himself smiling more tonight than he would on any normal night. Maybe that was why this didn’t feel as weird as it should. Talking about his life to a complete stranger, sharing a drink, comforting touches on his arm. Something about Tyler just put him at ease, he supposed. He’s never felt like that with someone before.
“We have that in common, then,” Josh paused, running his thumb across Tyler’s sleeve to give his elbow a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Tyler finally met his eyes, the faintest, smallest, whisper of a smile sneaking onto his lips. “What are their names?”
“Zack, Jay, and Maddy.”
“Oh, wait, that’s kind of cool,” Josh laughed, knowing what he was about to say wasn’t actually all that cool, “We’re both the oldest of four, and you have two brothers and one sister, and I have two sisters and one brother.”
Tyler laughed then, finally, and Josh tried to memorize every wrinkle around his eyes.
“Yeah, sure, if that’s what you call cool.”
“It is, actually,” Josh stated proudly, nodding, “Tell me about them.”
“Zack played basketball with me in high school. Begged me to teach him how to play, wanted to be ‘just like his big brother,’” Tyler used air quotes, scoffing after, “He was way better than I was.”
Josh smiled as Tyler told him about his family. He watched the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about what he loved about each of them.
“Maddy is… five years younger, what’s that…” he counted on his fingers, “She’s 18, she’s about to turn 19. She’s got this boyfriend, she thinks she’s gonna marry him, I think he’s a dick. But she’s already planning her wedding, says I’m gonna be her man of honor, but I don’t think mom will let her get married if she doesn’t choose her."
Tyler smiled the widest Josh had seen once he got to his last sibling, “Then there’s Jay. He thinks I'm the coolest thing in the world. He’s 13, so I’m, like, his idol or something. He wants to make music when he grows up. I think he’s got some real potential.”
“I’d love to see what he ends up doing.”
“Yeah, me too.” Tyler looked back down at the counter, then at his crossed arms. Suddenly, he felt the world stop. “Oh god. God, what am I doing?”
He pulled away from Josh’s touch to reach both hands into his hair, gripping at his scalp and tugging on the strands that peek through his fingers. He couldn’t breathe. He was hyperventilating. He felt his heart stop dead in its tracks. Nothing made sense. Nothing added up. His eyes started to burn as he felt hot tears form under his eyelids and spill down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut, backing away from the counter, away from Josh.
“I have to go,” he managed to speak, exasperated, his throat dry, “This is a mistake, I’m making a mistake. I have to be here for them. They need me. I’m sorry, Josh, I have to go.”
He bolted for the door, completely abandoning his cups and his bottle of Crown. He made it through the door this time, the cool night air hitting his face, almost freezing where it met the dampness on his cheeks. Josh ran after him, nearly tripping as he pushed the door that was closing in his face. As Tyler ran to his bike, about to mount it, Josh ran faster, once again grabbing his arm.
“No, don’t go,” Josh stopped him, still not fully trusting his motives, and certainly not trusting that he could bike around at night in this condition, “Please. Stay. They’ll be okay, I promise. You’re out with a friend. I’ll give you a ride home, put your bike in the back.”
Tyler didn’t look at him, but he didn’t pull away either, which Josh thought of as a good sign.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” Tyler choked, his voice heavy, “I feel fucking crazy.”
“You’re not crazy. You need help,” Josh started, “I don’t know, maybe some force sent you here. So that you would stop whatever it was you were doing and just think. Maybe that’s what you’re doing here.”
“No,” Tyler groaned, shaking his head before finally looking at Josh, “Why am I doing this? I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Josh didn’t know what to say. He watched Tyler’s red eyes, which were trained on him, searching for every answer in his face. But Josh didn’t have an answer. Tyler brought his hand to his jaw, stabilizing it as it trembled with his breath.
“I don’t know,” Josh started, “But I know you’re someone who needs to be here, who has people who love you. You’re your brother’s idol, you’re your sister’s best friend. There are people who want you around, want to help you. I want to help you.”
Tyler scoffed, “You don’t know me.”
Josh offered a gentle smile, holding his hand out for Tyler to take, “I know I’d like to.”
Tyler looked down at Josh’s hand, considering. Waiting for some sign, something divine, to tell him what to do.
It never came.
He took Josh’s hand.
The world kept spinning. His vision was no longer hazy, his heart no longer pounding in his ears. Somewhere along the way, his stomach had crawled back up from his feet and found its place back in his abdomen, and bile wasn’t prickling at his throat.
“You’re so weird,” Tyler said, hoping the tease might eat away at the embarrassment that sat cold in his chest.
“Super weird,” Josh said, smile widening, “Come inside. I’ll drive you home later.”
Tyler nodded, allowing Josh to lead him back inside the store. When the door closed behind them with one final gust of cold air, the tears Tyler had managed to push down had broken through his dam. He hid his face in his hands, his knees going weak under him and sending him straight to the floor. Each sob that wracked his body felt like a bomb under his sternum, and he feared it would never end.
Josh followed him to the floor, crouching beside him and setting his hand on his back.
“Come sit behind the counter,” he said softly. Tyler nodded, using all of his strength to stand tall on his feet and take the few short steps behind the cash wrap. Josh walked with him, hand on his back and body pressed close until he could sit Tyler down under the register.
It really set in for Josh then that Tyler was right, he didn’t know him. He didn’t know what to do, how to comfort him. He thought back to his family, how Ashley and Jordan preferred to be left alone, and Abigail just wanted to be held. He couldn’t use his own friends for reference either. They didn’t really get vulnerable like this with each other.
He sat down on the floor next to Tyler, leaving a small gap between them in case what Tyler needed was space. He could tell him if what he was doing was wrong. Josh figured the safest bet was to just keep him company.
Josh learned very quickly that space was not what Tyler needed as the younger man inched closer to him, so close that their shoulders weren’t just brushing, they were pressed together so tightly that Josh could feel every square inch of Tyler’s trembling arm against his. He looked over at him, but Tyler didn’t look back. His gaze was glued to a dust bunny on the floor, next to the broom dustpan that Josh simply didn’t care enough to use.
Josh took the movement as an invitation, a gesture, to put in something more. He was shorter than Tyler. Not by much, but enough that he didn’t need to shift his position much to comfortably lean over and rest his head on top of Tyler’s shoulder. He felt the boy tense up, heard his heart beating a mile a minute through his clavicle, and walked his fingers across the dirty floor before interlacing them with Tyler’s.
It would have been okay if Tyler pulled away. If he shrugged him off, or threw his hand. But he didn’t. As soon as their fingers were interlocked, Josh felt his muscles relax. He let his head fall on top of Josh’s, and finally, he wasn’t crying anymore. His breath wasn’t shaking, and Josh was sure he wasn’t imagining it as he heard Tyler’s heart slowly fall back into a normal rhythm. Josh let out the breath that had been starting to ache in his lungs.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to be said. There were a thousand feelings to be felt.
Nobody came into the store for the rest of the night. Josh and Tyler stayed on the floor, Tyler watching Josh switch between mobile games on his phone. It was uncomfortable, and honestly gross, but neither of them found themself minding all that much. They sat there right up until the moment Josh heard the sound he recognized as his morning shift coworker's car pulling into the parking lot. They didn’t even realize that four hours had passed, but sure enough, they looked out the windows, and the sky was a shade of blue.
Josh stood up quickly, ushering Tyler to his feet as well, telling him he needed to pretend to be shopping. Tyler blinked at him.
“Or I could just pick up the shit I bought earlier and walk out so that we don’t look suspicious with an open bottle of whiskey and me not buying anything?” He suggested, already moving to the front of the counter to gather his things and screw the top back on the bottle they had left open all those hours ago.
“Oh,” Josh said, his mouth curving into an ‘o’ shape for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Yeah. That’s a better idea.”
Tyler smirked, gathering his things as Josh pulled out a paper bag from behind the counter. He started to bag the items as the door swung open, the bell chiming to note his coworker’s arrival.
“Have a nice day,” Josh smiled at Tyler, hoping he would remember to stick to their plan and wait outside for Josh to leave. Tyler didn’t answer, just nodded once and waved, before grabbing his bag and exiting the gas station.
Josh’s coworker slipped behind the counter and dropped his things, never choosing to put his belongings somewhere reasonable, like, I don’t know, the employee lounge.
“How’d the night go?” he asked Josh as he logged in to the register to punch in.
“Oh, you know,” Josh started, puffing air out of his mouth, “Same old boring shift. Not many customers.”
It wasn’t a total lie. There really weren’t many people who came in. Just one very interesting, super-not-boring individual who spent almost half of Josh's entire shift with him. But no one needed to know that.
“Hm,” his coworker said with a nod. “Alright. I guess you’re good to go.”
Josh had never clocked out and left the building so quickly in the whole time he had worked there. He grabbed his jacket and swung it over his shoulders, barely pulling both of his arms through before he was out the door, his eyes scanning the lot for Tyler.
He found him right back where his bike was, leaning against the building and scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard the door open, and was barely able to shove down his smile when his eyes met Josh’s. He tucked his phone into his pocket, and Josh gestured for Tyler to follow him, so he grabbed onto the handles of his bike and pushed it in the direction Josh was walking.
Josh’s yellow Jeep was just as ugly as his yellow outfit and yellow hair, Tyler thought, but he kept it to himself. Josh helped him load his bike into the back compartment, and the two boys took their seats in the driver’s side and the passenger’s side, respectively. Josh plugged his phone into the aux cord and started to play a song Tyler didn’t recognize. Tyler kept his eyes trained on Josh’s phone.
He wanted to come up with a way to get Josh’s contact. Nonchalantly. Like he didn’t really care. Except that he did care. A lot. And he was far from nonchalant.
As Josh started to drive, Tyler picked up Josh’s phone just like it was his own. Josh didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, he smiled. Giggled.
“Hey, wanna put your addy into the GPS for me?” He asked.
Tyler nodded, clicking Josh’s phone on. He admired his lockscreen, a picture of a very beautifully toasted golden retriever with its tongue out, its chin being cradled by a hand that Tyler had to assume belonged to Josh.
“What’s your password?” Tyler asked, mind locking back into his mission: GPS, then add yourself on Instagram.
“Oh, eight, two, one,” Josh answered, making a left turn out of the parking lot that was incredibly incorrect if he wanted to go to Tyler’s apartment. “My little guy’s birthday. Jim.”
“He doesn’t look that little,” Tyler quipped, locating the map app and typing in his address. He selected his apartment, but didn't start the route yet. He needed to find Josh’s Instagram and add himself fast. Before Josh noticed he was going through his phone.
Josh laughed, a sound that made Tyler’s brain and heart melt into puddles inside of him. “Yeah, well, he’ll always be little to me. Are we going the right way?”
“Nope.” Tyler said, popping the p. He hit the ‘request follow’ button on his account and closed out of the app, returning to the map. “But I got your GPS here.”
“Thank youuuu.”
Neither of them wanted to admit it, not to themselves nor to each other, but they didn’t really want their time together to come to an end. Sure, Josh had his roommate at home, and he had his dog to look forward to, but not much else. Tyler had nothing at home. His roommate was never around, always out at some girl’s house, leaving Tyler to his own devices 90% of the time. If Tyler went home, all he had to keep him company was his brand new bottle of Crown and his thoughts. The very same thoughts that landed him in Josh’s path in the first place.
The drive to Tyler’s apartment was quiet, save for whatever album Josh was playing through his phone, and the occasional direction from his GPS. Tyler still didn’t know the songs. He didn’t even really like them. But he liked that Josh liked them.
When Josh finally parked in a spot in front of Tyler’s home, Tyler was completely expecting him to just stop by the door and let him out. But he parked. In a spot. Surely that meant something, right?
Neither boy spoke. Neither boy moved. Not at first. Josh picked up his hand to turn down the radio, and Tyler looked at Josh for the first time since they got in the car.
“So, um,” Josh started, placing a hand on the steering wheel and rubbing the other up and down his arm. “I guess this is it.”
“Yeah,” Tyler said, unlatching his seatbelt, but still unable to actually open the door and hop out of the car. Josh didn’t rush him. “Unless, you know…”
Tyler trailed off, but Josh raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”
“Do you want to, like, come in?” Tyler finally spit out, not able to look Josh in the eyes. For fear of what, he wasn’t sure. Rejection? Would Josh laugh in his face? He didn’t seem the type. “I mean, I know you have your dog, and you probably have to take care of him, and that’s cool, that’s great. But I mean, like, if you wanted to. I have Toaster Strudels and a super comfy bed, and my roommate’s not around, if you wanted to, like, take a nap and eat something before you go home. But it’s, like, totally cool, you don’t have to, I just thou-“
Tyler didn’t finish what he was saying. How could he, when his heart had jumped into his throat at the sudden pressure of a hand on his thigh? A hand that, when he followed the arm back to the body, belonged to one very smiley Josh.
“I’d love to come in and have Toaster Strudels with you.” Josh smiled, not moving his hand off of Tyler’s leg. Though Tyler tried to fight it, a blush crept up his neck and painted his cheeks a very bright, very embarrassing shade of pink.
They didn’t know what sort of magical force brought them together. They could try to curse it, shout and cry for what it had done to them. The things it made Tyler feel, the fact that Josh had no choice but to work a shitty night shift at a gas station where no one respected him. But they truly found no point. Because at the end of the day, none of that mattered. At the end of the day, Josh was cuddled up on Tyler’s couch, wrapped tightly in his arms, head resting on his chest, and Toaster Strudel crumbs stuck to his lips. And they supposed nothing else really mattered then, did it?
Josh would save Tyler’s life over and over again if he needed to. But that wouldn’t be necessary. With a sneaky Instagram follow, an accepted friend request, Josh could pretend Tyler was sitting across the counter from him at work every single night.