“There are other racks, you know, unless you’re super into talking ducks,” I tease, smirking at the way his ears pink up.

“Yeah,” he says, moving on to stare at the actual new-release wall instead.

I pull out his holds, checking to make sure they’re all there. I glance over when I see him pick up a comic. It’s not one on his list, but it is one of my favorites. He flips through, looking at it like he wants to marry it, and then slides it back into the rack with a frown.

“That’s a good one,” I say. “And you’re at a great jumping-on point. They’re coming back from hiatus, and the first volume just came out. You grab that and the one in your hand, and you’re all caught up.”

“I have all of them except this one. I’ve been reading it from the start.”

I crinkle my forehead, flipping through his books in front of me. “Oh really? Is it supposed to be in your pile?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I can’t—I don’t have—it’s a thing.”

I pull back, surprised. “Your parents monitor your pull list or something?”

He looks down, and holy shit, if there’s one thing I hate most in this world, it’s parents policing content. I can’t help but notice that it’s the very queer comic that they don’t let him have; meanwhile, his pull list is loaded up with all the violent ones. Typical.

“That’s so wrong.” I come from behind the counter and pull the comic out of the rack. “Here, it’s yours.”

“I can’t.”

“Seriously, I read it on break earlier. I’ll just replace it with my copy. It’s fine.” I push it closer until he takes it.

“Thanks.” The corner of his lips turns up, and I feel a little swell of pride.

His eyes catch on my Green Lantern ring, sterling silver with an actual emerald in it. A gift from my mom on my sixteenth birthday. I’m about to show it to him when he opens his mouth.

“Did your boyfriend give you that?”

Cue record scratch.

“My boyfriend?” I roll my eyes. “I work in a comic shop. I don’t need to rely on a boy to give me merch. I guarantee you my pull list is bigger than yours, and it was even before I started working here.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean . . . I wasn’t implying—”

I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms. “Uh-huh.”

“I swear. I have a sister that’s way more into this stuff than I’ll ever be. If she even thought I implied—which I didn’t, by the way—but if she even thought I did, she would kick my ass. It came out wrong. I didn’t mean anything by it.”