Summer Stock Truth

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as I organize vitamin bottles - Vitamin C for immune support, Vitamin D for mood (which I definitely need), melatonin for sleep (which I definitely don't get enough of). It's my third day at the vitamin shop, and I'm still fumbling with the cash register.

"Hey, you got a sec?" Skylar appears, holding up her phone. Her palm tree tattoo peeks out from her sleeve - she got it last summer when her family went to California. "Read this thing from Nessa."

I lean in. Nessa's saying she saw Skylar's ex Jake at the mall with some other girl, and apparently he was "all over her" and Skylar needs to "stop being chill about it and actually care for once."

"That's so bull," I say, but Skylar just shrugs. "He literally moved on two weeks ago, Marcus. I can't be dramatic about it." But I notice her hands are shaking a little.

Our manager Chad appears from the back. "You two done gossiping? I need help moving these protein tubs."

Skylar groans. "We're literally on break."

"Break's over when I say it's over." Chad's always like this - on a power trip, probably because he's 23 and working at a vitamin shop isn't exactly his dream job.

We spend the next twenty minutes hauling tubs of protein powder to the front. My arms are burning by the end, and I'm sweating through my shirt. This is NOT what I thought having a summer job would be like.

Later, Skylar and I are on our real break, sitting on the curb out back. "You okay?" I ask.

She sighs and pulls a vitamin bottle from her pocket - B-complex, which her swears by for stress. "Yeah. It's just ... Nessa's right. I should care more. But caring feels pathetic, you know? Like, if I show I'm hurt, then he wins."

I don't know what to say. I've never had a real relationship, never had my heart broken. The closest I've gotten was that awkward almost-thing with Maya last spring that fizzled out before it started.

"You don't have to perform for anyone," I finally say. "Like, you can be messed up about it and that doesn't make you pathetic. It makes you human."

Skylar looks at me, really looks at me, and smiles. "Since when are you so wise, Marcus?"

"Since I started spending eight hours a day listening to customers talk about their supplement routines," I say, and she laughs.

The back door opens and Chad yells, "Break's over!"

Skylar rolls her eyes but stands up. "Hey," she says, "thanks for listening. You're a good friend."

I help her up and our palms brush against each other for a second. My heart does this stupid little flip, and I'm glad she can't hear it over the street noise.

"Anytime," I say, because it's true.

That night, I'm lying in bed scrolling through Instagram when I see Nessa posted a photo with Jake. They're at some party, looking cozy. Jake's arm is around her shoulders. Skylar's story is just a black screen with the words "some people never change" written in white text.

I type out a message to her: "You okay?" then delete it. Too pushy. I type: "Nessa's being bull" and delete that too. Finally I just send: "I'm here if you want to talk."

She responds almost immediately: "Can you call me?"

So I do, and we end up talking for two hours about Jake and Nessa and what it means to really trust people. At some point, she admits she's not as over it as she pretends to be, and I tell her I've never even had a real relationship and I'm scared I'll never be good at it.

"You're good at being a friend though," she says softly. "That's rare."

I fall asleep with my phone still in my hand, feeling like maybe this summer isn't going to be so bad after all.