welcome to my twisted mind

Zeke looked up from his phone when he heard the grating whir of the conveyer belt next to him. As he turned his head, he saw a 12 pack of soda starting to head his way. Routinely, he reached for the scanner, getting ready to scan and bag the barrage of groceries headed his way. He couldn't really be bothered to acknowledge the customer, not wanting to deal with anybody until he eventually was forced to during the transaction. That was his plan, to keep his head down and scan, until he heard a deeply familiar voice quietly go "oh."

It took everything in him to stop his head from flying up, as he looked up and saw Dean Montes dumbfounded face for the second time that month. His glasses were askew on his face. Typical.

All Zeke could do in the moment was stare at him blankly. "Did you just move here or something?"

"What?" Dean replied, arm stuck hovering over the conveyer belt and holding a bag of chips.

The conveyer belt moved towards Zeke again, and on instinct he went to scan a incoming box of cereal.

"I've lived here for a few months now and haven't seen you anywhere until recently." He filled one of the plastic grocery bags and opened another one. "I've just been seeing alot of you recently."

"This is only the second time I've seen you."

Zeke gave an aloof hum in response.

"I usually have class around this time," Dean explained. "It got canceled today. I figured I was running low on groceries."

Zeke doesn't reply, just blankly scanning and packing groceries into bags. There's an air of awkwardness settled over grocery line 5.

All of the groceries are packed and put away in silence, with Dean avoiding eye contact, and Zeke staring directly at him. The card reader is in the middle of processing Dean's debit card when he speaks up again.

"Me and my friend Carrie are going to a party this weekend." Dean's eyes are focused on the screen of the card reader. "If you want to come with us."

And all Zeke can do when faced with this question is stare at the register screen. There's a deep, younger, hopeful part of him that wants to say yes. Who wants to tear of his name tag, leap over the grocery counter and fall into Dean's car. A person who wants to throw his phone on the ground, leave all his possessions behind at Alex's apartment and go right back to where he was. To fall right back into it as if 2 years hadn't passed.

It's clear that this part of him is starting to win the battle when he does a small shrug and replies with a "maybe."

The two stand in silence, each avoiding the others gaze. A second passes and Dean's receipt is printed from behind the counter. It's handed to Dean, who looks down at it, slightly chewing on his bottom lip. "Cool, cool." He nods his head as he trails off. His thumb is messing with the corner of the receipt. "Hey uh, do you have a pen I could borrow?"

Zeke looks between Dean and the receipt hesitantly. "Yeah." He says it warily, opening a drawer and pulling out a beat up ballpoint pen.

"Great, thanks." Dean begins scribbling something on the back of the receipt, the paper balanced on the handle of the cart.

Zeke tries to sneakily peek from across the counter, but his view is blocked by Dean's hand.

The receipt and pen are placed on the till infront of Zeke, with the receipt print side up. "Here, just let me know if you're coming, I guess." Dean clumsily supplies before turning away and heading out of the automatic doors.

Zekes eyes linger on the empty entryway, taking the past couple of minutes in. His thoughts are interrupted when the doors slide open, a customer rolling in with their cart, accompanied by a ding alerting the store of their arrival.

He turns back around, and looks down at the receipt laying on the till. He mulls it over before picking it up, turning it over his hands. He's met with nothing but a familiar string of ten numbers.