“Just a second,” he mutters.

“Lucas.”

“Waylon?” He turns slowly at first, but then once he realizes it really is me, he hops right over the counter.

Ugh, why is he such a charming little puppy?

A display of mini flashlights clatters off the counter and we both reach down to pick it up, our heads colliding.

“Ohhh, ow,” I say touching my hand to my head.

“Here, let me.” He gathers up the flashlights and they immediately spill out of his arms and back onto the floor.

“No, you know what?” He smirks, leaning back against the counter. “Never mind. I’ll get them later.”

“Hi,” I say.

He reaches for my hand at the precise angle I know is just out of reach of the security camera. “I’ve missed you.”

I don’t even try to hide my shock. “You have?”

“Well, yeah, of course. You were one of my closest friends and then you just . . . stopped coming around.”

I pull my hand back and cross my arms over my chest. “I wouldn’t exactly call us friends, Lucas. And if I recall, you were ready to ask someone to be your boyfriend. Someone who wasn’t me. What, did you expect me to come up here and check in on you? Oh, yeah, let me just go hang out at this gas station, so I can see how my old fling’s new fling is going.”

His expression hardens into hurt. “I thought you were supportive of me. I even told my parents.”

And at that my heart does twinge. “How’d they take it?” I ask gently.

“I think it’s safe to say they’re still taking it. Some days everything is normal—eerily normal—and on other days they act like I’m sending them both to an early grave. But they didn’t kick me out, so that’s a plus.”

I hate that not getting kicked out is the sunny side to this difficult situation, but I’ve heard of this exact thing going a lot worse for plenty of people.

“Well, that’s good. I’m—I’m proud of you.” I shake my head. “But that’s not what I’m here for. I need . . . beer. And liquor. And a lot of it.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t really do that so much anymore, and I definitely don’t supply for big parties if that’s what you’re getting at. Too risky.”

“Come on,” I tell him. “It’s one shindig for a bunch of queer kids at school.”

“Listen, if this was only you and Clem wanting a six-pack or a bottle of Everclear, I could make that happen, but a whole party? I’m not looking to get in trouble.”