He looks around before crossing the alley and I circle my fingers around my neck. It’s so much easier writing to him. Saying things with my mouth or my eyes and watching him react in real life is emotional chaos, but I stand in the middle of it as he smiles up at me, head thrown back, black words covering his arm like a sloppy sleeve tattoo.

“That thing that happened earlier…” he calls.

I grip the railing tighter. “What thing?”

“With that guy.” He makes a V with each hand and brings them close together, opening and closing them like two kissing alligators. “I think it was meant to be affection, maybe?” He shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets. “But not sure. Don’t see that every day.”

His voice rumbles up to me, onto the landing, vibrates through me, and digs up embarrassment and shame. But he doesn’t know me. What if Nick kisses me like that every day?What if I like it? I tighten my fists. Except I don’t. Anybody would have noticed that.

“It isn’t every day someone watches, either.” The words wobble out of me and his teeth blare in the dark as he smiles.

“You were sorta busy, so you probably didn’t notice, but I was kinda trapped behind a dumpster watching Face Eater gnaw off your lips.”

“I didn’t ask you to stay.”

“Well, your eyes did, so maybe you should have a little chat with them about saying what they really mean. All I know is they didn’t like whatever was happening as much as I didn’t.” He grips his backpack straps. “But wait—hold up! Just thought of something.” His eyes widen. “If our eyes speak the same language, does that mean we’re eye-lingual?” He grins up at me. “Like bilingual, but you know—eyes.”

I press my lips together and curl my toes against a smile but when it slips out, I send it into the sky before looking down at him again. “I guess so.”

Marcus rolls his neck, rubbing the back of it as he looks up. “It’s kinda uneventful down here now. And my neck’s killing me. Care if I come up?” When I don’t answer, he steps to the ladder and pulls himself up the rungs and over the railing, dropping to the landing.

His eyes are glossy in the lamp light pooling around my window, starting a fire in my stomach that spreads up into my cheeks. His skin glows as he leans back against the railing and stretches his arms along it on either side of him. He’s easily twice my size. If he steps closer, he’ll pull me into his gravity and—

“So, you usually don’t work Tuesdays?” He tilts his head, his long fingers wrapped around the railing.

I blink out of my thoughts and squeeze Buddha in my fist. “I covered for a friend. I’m in the kitchen on Tuesdays.”

“Maybe I should switch nights.”

I smile as the air between us settles and calms but shake my head. “You should probably stick with Tuesdays.”

“Since you have a boyfriend but didn’t wanna tell me because my notes are so poetic?”

My eyes snap to his and I inhale, shaking my head.“He’s not…I don’t…”

His left eyebrow arches. “Do I need to ask Buddha who Face Eater is?” He watches me pass the statue between my hands, nervous energy exiting my body through my fingers. “He’ll tell me everything you forgot to mention in your notes. Or I could just ask Guo. She said, and I quote: ‘Ugly Chao is the worst. As a dude and a kisser.’ From what I saw, I’d have to agree. No offense, but…” He shakes his head.

“It’s amazing how much you sounded like Guo Mama. You two must have had a long conversation about me.” I swallow hot, itchy shame and look down at Guo Mama’s shop where she’s scrubbing her front window. Scrubbing the same spot, over and over. Because she’s watching us out of the corner of her eye. “Should’ve known she’s involved in this.”

“This…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“You. Being here.” I wave one hand between us, the other gripping Buddha as I take a deep breath. “She bribed you, didn’t she?”

He grips his backpack straps and leans back against the railing, crossing his ankles. “To do what?”

“I don’t know. Talk to me? Write notes?” I bite my lip and hold my breath, waiting.

He looks at the sky, then back to me. “Uh, no, thank you very much. Did this all on my own. I’m offended you didn’t consider that I had to gather all my available guts just to talk to you two weeks ago.”

My heart stutters in surprise, but I crush Buddha in my fist and roll my eyes so I won’t squeeze them shut and squeal. “She bribed you to talk to me because she doesn’t like Nick.”

He frowns and scratches his temple. “Okay, so…first, why would she think me talking to you would make a difference, and second, I’m guessing “Nick” is Face Eater?”

I stare at him.

“He almost ate your face after yelling at it. So…Face Eater. Didn’t say it was a creative nickname, but he definitely earned it. Am I wrong?”

Shame pushes up my neck in a hot rush and I talk to the landing. “He wasn’t eating my face.”