Morning Shift

Old Men on the Internet

        Nicky and Jonah were walking home after a nice Subway dinner Friday night after school because Priya didn't have enough gas to take them both home, only she told them that with the same suggestive wink Nicky's seen too much of lately, so he had a feeling she probably could've helped them out instead of making them walk in 10 degree weather. Priya did seem to think she was helping, though, in her own way.

        Jonah seemed content in just his navy blue letterman jacket to protect him from the freezing cold wind and the snowstorm that was beginning to pick up, but perpetually cold Nicky couldn't feel any of his fingers or toes, and his ears were burning bright red without a hat to cover them. He'd only worn a sweatshirt, stupidly thinking Priya would be kind enough to drive him everywhere so he wouldn't have to step outside in the arctic tundra that was Minnesota in the late winter. Now his fingers were going to fall off just because he decided to trust that his devious friend wouldn't pull anything dumb. He was wrong, obviously.

        "Are you cold?" Jonah asked.

        "No," Nicky said, though he could barely get it out though his chattering teeth.

        Jonah narrowed his eyes skeptically at Nicky, which kind of warmed him up for a second. Then, he silently unzipped his jacket and handed it to Nicky.

        "I'm not wearing your letterman, dude," he said, pushing it away with a laugh.

        But Jonah just thrusted it forward again, this time stopping in his tracks. If this was anybody else, Nicky would've just shrugged and stood out in the cold for as long as it took out of spite, but this was Jonah. He tried his best to cross his arms and give Jonah his best 'try me,' glare, but the second they made eye contact, Jonah smiled, and Nicky immediately faltered.

        He begrudgingly grabbed the jacket and pulled it on over his sweatshirt, and, for the sake of his sanity, ignored the vanilla scent that overtook his senses. "You're the worst," he told him.

        Jonah just shrugged and started to talk about his practice he had that morning before work, where he got checked so hard by a guy on his own scrimmage team he couldn't move his arm all the way up without crazy pain erupting in his shoulder. Nicky wasn't a very empathetic person, but the stories Jonah told sometimes made him want to march over to his school and kick everybody's ass like he nearly did at the Subway a while back. It hurt to hear Jonah talk so casually about it, and sometimes Nicky could tell he was covering up how deep their jokes cut. But Jonah was still smiling, so Nicky let it go, not wanting to ruin the mood.

        They soon fell into a comfortable silence, walking in sync and listening to the sound of their sopping wet shoes crush the snow piling up beneath their feet. Jonah's hand fell out of his pocket and brushed Nicky's, which led to his heart practically jumping out of his chest. He pretended he didn't notice and left his hand by his side, a part of him wishing he had the courage to grab Jonah's.

        "Hey, Nicky?" Jonah spoke up, causing Nicky to jump and snap his eyes up to Jonah's.

        "What's up?"

        "Do you trust me?"

        "I guess so," he said, knowing it was a complete understatement. He didn't want to admit that he trusted Jonah more than anyone. He could barely even admit that to himself.

        "Then why didn't you tell me who you like that day when we were skating at the pond?"

        "Jonah-" Nicky groaned, only a little bit annoyed that he ruined the kind of perfect walk they were having.