“How’d you know about this place?” I asked, pushing open the door to the comic shop.
“I stumbled onto it last week before work. Have you been here?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m their best worst customer,” I joked. I nodded at the teenager behind the counter, then led Sky to my favorite rack of classic DC comics along the back wall.
“What does that mean?”
“I come in all the time and never buy anything. Oh wow. Look at this.” I picked up a Batman graphic novel and skimmed through the first few pages.
I took a seat on a tiny stool, gesturing to the one next to me. Sky scooted the stool close and leaned against my side. We turned the pages, quietly perusing the comics for a while. The doorbell chimed once or twice, and a couple of college students meandered the narrow rows, passing us by without a second glance. We probably looked like friends who shared a passion for comics instead of two horny guys who’d settled for a Batman fix when a blow job wasn’t in the cards. Then again, maybe we were both…friends and more.
I glanced sideways when I felt his stare and smiled. I opened my mouth to say fuck knows what, but Sky beat me to it.
“Do you like graphic novels or comics better?”
“What kind of a question is that? Comics, of course.”
“Why don’t you ever buy any?”
“I like borrowing them for a half hour at a time more. When I was a kid, my dad used to take me to a comic store by our house before hockey practice once a week. He called it comic library time. He’d buy gum or a candy bar from the owner but never the comics. Dad didn’t say why, but I don’t think we could afford them. He made a game out of it. We could only use the change in our pockets to buy our treat. It was usually less than a dollar and rarely anything exciting, but I love the memory. Sometimes I can smell his aftershave or tobacco in the air and…it makes me feel like he’s with me,” I said in a low voice tinged with a sadness I knew from experience could pull me under if I wasn’t careful.
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, I think so too. I’d rather have the gum now anyway. Scratch that…I want a candy bar.” I made a funny face as I searched my empty pockets for change in a lame attempt to keep the mood light.
Sky nodded, jumped to his feet, and headed for the register. He returned with a single Reese’s Peanut Butter cup and presented it to me like a rare and precious gift. “Ta-da. I’m gifting you my favorite treat.”
I grinned. “Thanks. It’s mine too. Now the real questions is…how do we share a Reese’s?”
“It’s for you. You don’t have to share it.”
“No, no. That’s the rule. You have to share.” I opened the package and peeled the wrapper from the chocolate. “How about if we take turns eating the outer ridge, then take a bite out of the middle?”
“So, you want to pass it between us like a joint?” he asked with a laugh.
“Yeah. Do you ever get high?” I bit into the chocolate and handed it over.
“No. I’m a control freak. I hate feeling spacey on purpose. Weed has anti-relaxing effects on me. I can’t even eat it without getting antsy. A friend of mine made magic brownies once. We didn’t feel anything, so we kept eating until we’d consumed the whole fucking plate. Twenty minutes later, I felt like I was swimming in a pool of flowers. It was weird as fuck.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Dude. Stay away from the brownies.”
“I haven’t eaten one since,” he assured me, passing the Reese’s over. “What about you?”
“Brownies are life.”
Sky snorted. “I meant weed.”
“No. Same reason, no good stories. Just not my thing.”
“Mmm.” He licked chocolate from his fingers and smiled. “Besides hockey and comics, what is your thing?”
“Uh…I don’t know. I tend to get super obsessed about things for short periods, like video games or Netflix binges.”
“I do that too. What’s your current obsession?”
“You,” I replied unthinking.
We stared at each other like a couple of goofballs for a few seconds before I turned the page and warned myself to pull it together.
This was getting dangerous.
It occurred to me that if I wasn’t careful, I’d give myself away by fuckin’ smiling all the time. It was one thing when we were alone, but walking around with a silly grin at practice or in the office was highly suspicious.
But I couldn’t seem to help it.
Everyone was asking what was up with me, and they all assumed it was something different. Elliot thought I met a girl, but he didn’t know who. My teammates were sure Kendra was my girlfriend and thought I was enjoying my uncontested run as captain until Schultz made an appearance too, and my mom…she was probably just happy to see me smile. According to her, I was in the middle of a decade-long Blue Period a la Picasso, and it was nice to see me enter a rosy phase. And no, I didn’t come up with that on my own. Mom taught art history at the local junior college. She had a habit of comparing life to periods in art. If I had a dollar for every time she told me I had a postmodern abstract aura, I’d be rich.