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boo-nito-flakes · 2 years ago

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Vertigo | Reiner Braun + Original Female Character AU: modern setting, neighbors multi-chapter story Rating: Mature Synopsis: When Josie’s mysterious neighbor becomes a temporary guardian for his young cousin, she didn’t think she’d be so involved. Reiner was a ghost of a neighbor, the two only exchanging a handful of words in the year they’d lived beside each other. Yet there she was, spending her nights watching true crime documentaries and filling out online personality quizzes with Gabi while Reiner was at work at The Liberio. There were a lot of things about this new arrangement Josie didn’t expect; how often she thought about Reiner’s forearms was near the top of the list. This could become a problem…

Chapter Two

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The quiet taps at the door somehow cut through the noise from the TV, a random reality show thrown on for background noise. Josie’s fingers curled against the cutting board.

She’d been on edge all day after a shitty night of sleep. Her bedroom was too warm, sheets sticking to clammy skin. She refused to check the time on her phone; it was sheer desperation to pretend like sleep would come easily and effortlessly. She flopped, legs tangling with each inutile turn, and thought of anything and everything in a miserable attempt to not replay every detail of her day. When she eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, Josie was haunted by a nightmare she hadn't had in years. A big-top circus, stained leather whips, clowns with stitched on faces, a mannequin crowd – her parents' doll-like visages glowing under a blood-red spotlight. She drank an entire pot of coffee by the time she left to catch the bus for work.

By the time Josie’s lunch break rolled around, she broke a wheel off a pallet jack, split a half dozen watermelons in the process, and incorrectly labeled the squash shipment—all three hundred and twenty two items. Her direct manager practically threw her out of the store when her replacement arrived for the night.

There was another succession of knocks and Josie dropped her knife, wiping the backs of her hands on her shorts as she scuttled to the door. She put one eye to the peephole, but her hands were already working the lock. Gabi blinked at her, big brown eyes widening with something between surprise and panic.

“Hey,” Josie greeted, gaze flickering to the empty hallway behind Gabi.

“Reiner is already at work."

She snapped back to Gabi. “So, what’s up?”

“Why did you offer to babysit me?” She bit back immediately, words nipping with a suspicion teetering on anger.

“Okay, one,” Josie lifted a finger, “I never used that word. And two, that’s not what happened.”

“Reiner said you offered to hang out with me when he’s at work.”

“I did.”

Gabi narrowed her eyes and declared boldly, “That’s babysitting .”

“I don’t think so.” In her apartment, a timer started beeping a steady tune–a reminder of her temporarily abandoned dinner. Nothing was so time-sensitive that it risked immediate ruin, but she knew not to risk it. She took a step backwards, arm extending with an invitation. “You’re allowed to be here, right?”

“Yeah. Reiner told me I could come over… if I wanted to,” she said, rolling her eyes to punctuate with a dramatic flair.

“Hmm.” Josie hummed, fighting a smile. “Alright. Have you eaten yet? I’m still working on dinner, but there’s plenty to share.”

A slight stretch of the truth. It was hard cooking for just one person, so leftovers existed by default. A cute lunchbox and colorful tupperware was a fun way to rebrand the monotony of leftovers, but day three of a not so great attempt at a new recipe was still a bitter experience even with carefully curated utensils.

“We went to Garrison’s.”

“ Ooohh , they have the best milkshakes,” Josie sighed wistfully. The sauteing vegetables and chicken on her stovetop were insultingly mocking after thinking of thick malts and greasy smash burgers served at the diner in the old part of the city. “Last summer they had, like, a peach cobbler one. I almost cried when they cycled it out.”

“It was my first time there. I really, really wanted some onion rings and a chocolate milkshake.”

“Well, you went to the right place.”

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, the sound of the TV nothing but white noise. It crackled with the hiss of the vegetable mix as Josie stirred and monitored her food. When she was sure nothing was burning, she turned and leaned against the counter. Gabi stood in the middle of the living room, curious eyes once again taking in every nook and corner of the open living-kitchen-dining space (advertised as ‘opening floor plan’ but was really just an excuse to toss an awkward half-wall up and call it an integrated kitchen in lieu of making anything close to functional).

“I had a friend in high school who waitressed there, and she said they put an obscene amount of powdered sugar in all their fried foods and that’s why everything tastes like heaven.”

“You went to high school here?” Gabi asked, voice lifting with surprise.

“Karanes for high school. Dok Foundation Charter for everything before that."

The timer beeped, and Josie jumped to pull her hodgepodge meal off the stove.

“Oh.” A few stilted seconds passed. “I go to Shiganshina.”

The Dok family cared enough about their reputation to keep at least an appearance of giving a shit about their foundation-funded charter schools. And they were smart enough to know to stay away from anything beyond eight-grade. Karanes High School was, by no means, a great school. The building was old school with chunky bars covering the tall windows and a fenced in stretch of ‘yard’ that was smaller than most yards in the city. Compared to Shiganshina, it could be as good as any Dok Foundation school.

Shiganshina was the largest K-12 school system in the city. It was also the most underfunded. The buildings were crumbling, and there were never enough teachers to reign in the overstuffed classrooms. Shiganshina kids were hard. They knew violence—were known for violence–and wore proudly on their chest. On the football field. In parking lots and graffiti covered bathrooms. Behind family barns in the roaring light of a summer bonfire. The Devils of Marley.

Rich kids in Marley went to Sina Prep; with school buildings that looked like cathedrals, a waiting list for the preschool, and a yearly tuition that honestly made Josie want to vomit. She tried not to think about it. Marley City K-12 was the best public system, but the class-sizes were small and filled fast so a lot of kids bussed to Dok Foundation and Karanes on the outer edge of the east side of town. Shiganshina serviced the entire south side of Marley, far from the university’s ivory towers and Sina’s wrought-iron gates.

“Do you have a lot of friends there?” Josie asked, feeling out the situation.

Anyone who grew up in Marley knew about Shiganashina’s reputation. The devils that haunted the city. It was stupid and honestly kind of shitty but in a town like Marley, where the city’s history was interwoven with the legacy of education, where you went to school carried a lot of weight. The prestige of academia that segregated the town into old and new–settled farm families and rail workers and the high brow scholars that cluttered around the newly established Marley University–influenced nearly every part of life as a born and raised Marlinean.

“I have a few friends, yeah.”

“That’s cool,” Josie shrugged, cringing behind the cabinet as she reached for a plate. “What are you guys into?”

Gabi wasn’t necessarily being stand-offish, but small talk with a twelve-year-old wasn’t a skill she would ever claim to have. Her only experiences with anyone that age range was at Paradis Mart, and after five-years of working at the grocery store she knew that judging anyone by the weird rituals humans displayed while shopping was a recipe for some fucked-up world views. There were some lifetimers at Paradis spewing nonsense in the lockers and break rooms, muttering about fucking Gen Z on their phones and women with kids being worse than insert-terrible-figure-in-history, to make anyone wary of longterm customer service work.

“Like are we jocks or nerds?” Gabi deadpanned.

“Sure, I guess if you think of it like that, but we both know it’s more complicated than that.” There was a pinched, almost accusatory look on Gabi’s face that prompted Josie to just act like Gabi was one of her friends and reason with her honestly. It felt less awkward that way, at the very least. “We don’t have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to. We can just hang out and watch Netflix or Youtube or something, if that’s more your thing. I’m just trying to feel out the situation.”

Gabi shook her head with an almost eerie placidity. “You never answered me when I asked why you want to babysit me. You’re not trying to get Reiner and my mom in any trouble, are you—”

“What? No! Absolutely not.” Josie stopped plating her dinner, spatula splashing in the chicken and cream sauce. It splattered across the stovetop. “That’s so not in the realm of what is going on here.”

“So what is going on? You’re just being nice?”

“I guess I am. Is that so hard to believe?”

It was wrong to ask something like that–something so outright and accusatory. Gabi’s face fell as a result, and before she defend herself or snap off a string of angry words Josie rushed to clarify:

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry. To be totally and completely honest with you,” she turned to Gabi, who teetered near the fridge–socked feet balancing on the faux gold aluminum divider separating the beige carpet of the apartment from the checkered linoleum in the kitchen area. Her arms were crossed and her bushy brows furrowed with a stubborn intensity. “Look, I was alone a lot at your age and it sucked. I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself, and Reiner obviously trusts you. I just know it can get lonely. I’m not trying to play savior or whatever, and I don’t have any ulterior motives. If I’m bored and alone here and you’re bored and alone twenty feet away, why not hang out sometimes?”

“So, you want to be friends with a 12-year-old?” After a few long seconds Gabi scoffed, tilting her head to the side (Josie chose to ignore the pink tinting her cheeks). “That’s kinda lame.”

She laughed, and some of the tension left her body. “I’m so sorry if I ever gave the impression that I’m anything but lame.”

“Oh I never thought that.”

“So mean, Gabi!” Josie whined with a huff. She balanced a plate in one hand while she opened the refrigerator with the other, blindly reaching around for a seltzer water. A guilty pleasure, but in her defense as a shift manager at Paradis she got second dibs on damaged products. It was easy enough to accidentally drop a 6-pack of whatever brand while stocking. Not that she’d ever done that, ethically speaking. “You could’ve at least pretended.”

“Well don’t say that if you don’t want to know!” She blurted, waving her arms.

“I’m just teasing. I get it.”

“I know that!” Gabi harrumphed, tilting her head to the side. Her skin was flush, lips pulled in a pout that resembled the one Reiner always seemed to wear. It was incredibly endearing. “There are red flags, obviously.”

“Oh, ‘ obviously’? ” Josie deprecated, humming as she side-stepped Gabi and wandered towards the living room. “I really don’t know if I should be offended by that.”

She followed Josie’s footsteps, heckling passionately, “Red flags for being cool, not for being like a serial killer or something.”

“Thank you for not thinking I’m a murderer?”

“You’re welcome.” Gabi plopped on the couch, immediately tucking a leg under her lithe frame. The couch was a secondhand find online. A score, actually; some modern-looking Ikea piece with a chaise a college student was so desperate to get rid of at the end of spring semester they accepted her three hundred dollar offer. “You’re loud. Sometimes I can tell you’re trying to be quiet and it’s still loud. Also, like, how are you always doing dishes? And why does it sound like you’re banging every pan you own?”

“Oh my God,” Josie groaned, crumbling on the other side of the couch. This was her worst nightmare. She was a shitty neighbor. Shitty enough to be roasted by a literal twelve-year-old about it. “I like cooking!”

“And you’re kind of clumsy. Last week I saw you almost trip going down the stairs—”

“My shoes were untied!”

“—and there was also the time you spilled your coffee at the mailboxes.”

“Okay, okay,” Josie conceded, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not cool. Or a serial killer, for that matter, but we are definitely not going to get into that.”

“Women are four times more likely to use poison to kill someone. Which would line up with you liking cooking, I guess. Hypothetically."

“You don’t need to specify that it’s hypothetically,” Josie retorted, emotions bordering bewildered and impressed. “That’s what makes it weirdly accusatory?”

There was an impish air to the way Gabi uncrossed her legs to lean forward, her elbows coming to rest on her knees. It was conspiratorial, in a way, how she beckoned for Josie to lean in closer. The collection of multicolored beaded bracelets on her arm jangled as they slid down her wrist. “I started watching Forensic Files and I can’t stop.”

It was probably not a good idea for a twelve-year-old alone at night to be watching brutal true crime television, but it wasn’t Josie’s place to tell her that. Besides, the show was pretty addicting.

“There are some new true crime documentaries on Netflix I’ve been meaning to watch, if you’re in the mood to watch one.”

“The one about the Fritz cult?”

“Yeah. Have you watched it already?”

“Not yet but—” Gabi stopped abruptly, shifting to pull an older model phone out of her pocket. She grumbled something about Reiner calling before pressing the phone to her ear. “Hey… yeah, I said I was… no… no… well, I forgot! … planning a bank robbery, what do you think? … no! … okay, fiinnneeee .” She looked at Josie out of the corner of her eye as she spoke. In response, Josie took a big bite of her dinner to keep from laughing. “Reiner wants to talk to you.”

“Oh?” No longer laughing, she balanced her dinner on her lap and waved for the phone like talking to Reiner on the phone was an everyday normal occurrence and not something that had her freaking the fuck out. “Okay, sure.”

She cleared her throat as she accepted the phone, greeting him with an awkward, “Reiner, hey.”

“Hey, Josie.” Muffled chatter drifted through the line, but Reiner’s voice was crystal clear–timbre deep and smooth. “Is Gabi behaving?”

“Depends on your definition,” she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Send her back to my apartment if she’s too—”

“No, no. We’re having a good time, I promise.”

The background noise faded and a metal door clanged—Josie winced, tilting the phone away from her face. “If you say so… look, I really appreciate you spending some time with Gabi.”

“It’s not a problem, really.”

“Don’t feel, like, obligated to be with her the whole time. I’m usually not back until late Thursdays.” He sighed, a heavy noise that vibrated through the phone. “Sorry, I’m being bossy, aren’t I?”

“It’s cool, I get it. I think we’re going to watch something on Netflix, and I’ll probably con her into helping me water my plants. After that she’ll for sure be ready to leave.”

Gabi crossed her arms and muttered, “It shouldn’t take two people to water plants.”

“Good luck with that. She claims to be allergic to chores. I asked her to do the dishes a few nights ago and she gagged the entire time.”

Josie chortled, “So dramatic.”

“Reiner!” Gabi scooted closer on the couch and raised her voice. “Stop saying whatever you’re saying!”

“He’s telling me how much you love doing dishes.” Josie graduated to full blown laughter. Payback for maybe seriously considering the possibility she was a serial killer. As if.

“That’s where I draw the line! I’m not doing your dishes! Especially not after watching you cook—it’s like you’re trying to make the biggest mess possible!”

Reiner rumbled, “Unbelievable. Sorry, Josie. I promise she wasn’t raised in a barn.”

“I am the opposite of offended.”

“Because it’s true,” Gabi mumbled under her breath, too quiet for Reiner to hear.

“She knows not—shit, hold on a second, sorry.” There was a loud shuffle, followed by a few muffled words. A deep sigh, a grunt, the creak of a door. And then, “I need to get back to work. Can I talk to Gabi again?”

She hummed a noise of acknowledgement and a quick, “Have a good night, Reiner,” into the phone—barely catching his delayed, “You too, Josie,” before passing the phone back to Gabi.

She made it a point to focus on her half-cold dinner and not the rushed fragments of the one-sided conversation. It lasted maybe thirty seconds—not nearly long enough to eavesdrop, anyway. After hanging up, Gabi tucked the phone back in her pocket. She made a lot of noise, sighing dramatically and shifting restlessly on the couch until Josie looked at her.

“Are you really going to make me help you with chores at ten pm?”

Well, Gabi had a point. Most of the cleaning projects Josie planned the day before got put on the back burner. Watering her plants could wait another day or two until her next day off. And it wouldn’t be the first time she left dishes in the sink overnight to “soak.”

“I was joking about that part, but yeah, I probably shouldn’t. I’ve heard recently that I'm kind of a loud neighbor. But in my defense, the walls here are kind of crappy.” They really were. Luckily, the only shared wall space was in the kitchen-living area. “And at least you only have to listen to me and my apparently endless stream of dishes and not an aspiring DJ, which is what I had to listen to with my neighbor before Reiner.”

Gabi’s face scrunched and she asked, “Wait, are we loud?”

“Reiner? No. Like, I thought it was unrented for a while because it was quiet for weeks sometimes.”

“And now?”

“I mean, I can tell someone lives next door,” Josie said delicately. It still elicited a shocked look from Gabi, who apparently hadn’t considered the possibility that she too could be considered loud. Josie rolled her eyes and offered, “But it’s not crappy house music at three am, so I’m not complaining.”

“He really did that?”

“Oh yeah. Almost every weekend.”

“And you never told him he was, like, annoying?”

Josie snorted, raising an eyebrow at Gabi. “And what, piss off the alpha male douche next door when I’m a woman living alone? No thanks. I operate under a mostly don’t-ask-don’t-tell, definitely don’t complain model. It’s served me pretty well, especially here. This complex is like, so much better than the last place I lived.” Which wasn’t saying much, honestly. “I do keep a baseball bat and a switchblade by my bed, though, just in case.”

“A switchblade ? Can I see?”

“So you can juggle it?” She remarked, incredulous, face wrinkling. “No, absolutely not.”

“I just want to see it, sheesh.”

“One minute you’re ‘seeing it’ or whatever and the next we’re carrying your severed finger in a bag of ice on our way to the hospital.”

“That’s just dramatic.”

“I can’t let you play with knives, sorry dude.”

“I just wanted to see it!” Gabi huffed, flopping back on the couch. She made a show of getting comfortable, wiggling into the cushion and stretching out. Her long socks slipped in the commotion; tie-dye pattern bunched like rainbow vomit at her ankles. They didn’t match the oversized and well worn monster truck hoodie swallowing the rest of her body, but if anybody could pull the combination off it was Gabi. “So have you used it on anyone?”

“Have I knifed anyone?” Josie paused for dramatic effect, humming like she was in deep thought. “No, can’t say I have.”

She almost did once, at her last apartment. It was a way shitty efficiency with a broken entrance lock and no security lights. There was mold in the bathroom and she got good at shoo-ing mice out of her place (usually through panicked tears). It was hers, though. Cheap enough to afford with her barely-above minimum wage job at the grocery store and most importantly, a space Josie didn’t have to share with her parents or anyone else. After a lifetime of rent stabilized housing, Josie wasn’t all that worried about the perceived safety, noise-levels, neighbors–it was all secondary to being out on her own.

Until someone followed her back to her apartment. The feeling of being watched–of steady footsteps behind her rush to her door, the chain lock rattling in place, the terrifying knocks at her door sporadically throughout the night–would stay with Josie for the rest of her life. She started sleeping with the switchblade after that. Bought a second one to stash under her couch cushion, just in case. She wedged a chair under her front door handle every day when she got home, and she never left without checking that the pepper spray attached to her bag was still there.

“Lame,” Gabi harrumphed, unamused.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Josie shrugged. A fond smile tugged at her lips; she tucked it against her shoulder and reached for the remote. “So, Fritz documentary?”

“Only if you want to watch both parts. I won’t be able to fall asleep tonight if there’s a cliffhanger.”

“Everyone knows what happened with the Fritz cult. I don’t think there’s going to be any cliffhangers.”

It wasn’t like agreeing to watch the whole thing was too radical of a commitment. Josie probably would’ve watched the whole thing alone, anyway.

Gabi was the best and worst type of TV companion. She talked to the television way too often (unsurprising, considering how often Josie heard her through the wall) and talked to Josie even more. Quips about the Fritz cult, comments about the angles and camera work (her friend Falco was apparently really into media production–she promised to show Josie one of his short films), and she took a bathroom break every half hour on the dot. Between part one and two, she delivered a surprisingly eloquent monologue–even riddled with curses–about women’s rights while she raided the kitchen for a snack.

Just past one am, Josie herded Gabi off her couch towards the door. No sign of Reiner, but Gabi insisted he’d be home within the hour. Thirsty Thursdays , she said sleepily, yet with far too much understanding for a girl her age. Josie waited to yawn until they said goodbye. She lingered in the door until Gabi disappeared behind hers–eyes rolling as she waved from just a few feet away.

And maybe, despite the sleep that clung to the wet corners of her eyes and the call of the comfort of her bed, Josie stayed bundled up on the couch until she heard Reiner’s footsteps in the hall nearly forty minutes later.

A folded piece of paper was stuck to her door with a hot pink jack-o-lantern sticker that left speckles of adhesive when Josie pulled it off.

Staying at my friend Zofia’s tonight!

Gabi’s handwriting slanted across the ripped page in curly letters, and a smiley face accented the exclamation point. Josie re-folded the note and slid it in her back pocket, unlocking the door to her empty apartment. Honestly, she assumed Gabi would be over at some point that night. With her evening suddenly free, Josie didn’t know what to do.

She still didn’t know what to do by the time she finished her shower, but there was a text waiting for her when she picked up her phone. A friend she hadn’t heard from in a few weeks reaching out with a “hey, how have you been lately? sorry i’ve been mia…” . There weren’t too many people Josie considered friends, but she’d known Hannah since middle school. They drifted after high school–Hannah choosing a college a few hours away and Josie staying in Marley–and honestly, weren’t that close to begin with.

Josie poured a bowl of sugary cereal for dinner and plopped on the couch, pulling up an episode of a cheesy ghost hunting show she loved to hate. Between bites and rolling her eyes at the ‘eccentrics’ of the way too serious host, she traded texts with Hannah. She was back in town for the summer for an internship at her aunt’s insurance company. They made plans to get lunch at Garrison’s that Sunday. She took a too hot and too long shower that left her feeling pruned but relaxed enough to fall asleep hours before she usually did.

Instead of a note at her door, the next evening Gabi stood waiting for her. Well, slouched waiting for her. Back to the wall and her eyes fixated on her phone, she didn’t seem to realize Josie was there until she cleared her throat a few feet away.

“Sweet, you’re back,” she said as a greeting. “Wanna hang out tonight?”

Josie blinked a few times in a desperate effort to reorient herself to talking to a pre-teen and said, “Sure.” She pointed to the Paradis Mart bag at her side, weighed down with quite frankly a weird assortment of groceries. “Have you eaten? I have stuff for dinner, but I haven’t stopped thinking about brownies for like, four days so–”

“So brownies for dinner?”

“Worth a try, but no, sorry.” Josie nodded for Gabi to follow her into her apartment, instructing her to lock the door behind them. “Is it cool if I take a shower real fast? The bus was packed tonight, and if I don’t get the feeling of dozens of other people’s germs and sweat off me I’m going to hurl.”

“You take the bus ?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not that weird. A lot of people use public transportation.”

“Yeah, it’s just… so, you don’t drive?”

“Never learned. My bike was stolen at work a few months ago, but until that happened I biked more than I took the bus.”

She didn’t mention the fact that cars were fucking expensive. To buy, to fuel, to insure, to maintain–the whole shebang. And luckily, Gabi never asked why she didn’t learn to drive. Instead, she muttered something about how she bet Josie had a basket on the front (she did, but she wouldn’t give the little shit the satisfaction of reacting) and reclined on the couch. She was still in that position when Josie re-emerged after a speedy shower. Tinny chatter from a show Josie didn’t recognize played on the screen. It was animated but had a stop motion feel to it, the jittery movements of the characters contrasting with the bubblegum colors of the world.

“This looks… interesting?” she said as she joined Gabi.

“It’s weird, but it’s funny.” Gabi slung her legs back to the ground, huffing as she drew herself to the correct position. “Zofia made me watch it and now I’m hooked.”

On the screen, an anthropomorphised snake–who, if Josie was interpreting it correctly, was a bounty hunter with super powers–argued with an alien about the best way to cook humans. This is what kids are watching these days, huh?

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen Z since school ended. Her parents got divorced last year and she’s supposed to spend the summers with her dad in Dale, but he has some work thing or whatever so she got to come back to Marley with her mom for a week.” Gabi scooted down to the end of the cushion, stretching out to fish something out of her pocket. She stuck her hand out to Josie and opened her palm. “Here. I made this for you.”

It was a braided string. A bracelet , Josie realized, a fluttering sense of endearment settling in her chest. The glossy strands were shades of blues and greens and woven into a candy stripe pattern. One of the tying tassels was adorned with a few sea glass colored beads.

She held her wrist out. “Help me out.”

“You don’t have to wear it,” Gabi said a little shyly.

“Don’t be dumb.” Josie wiggled her wrist back and forth. “You made it for me to wear, right? Besides, I love these colors.”

“I know. This place is smothered in plants, and like, everything you own is blue.”

Gabi rolled her eyes, any trace of vulnerability vanishing with the movement. She tightened the bracelet with practiced, nimble fingers. Josie studied the assortment of beaded and braided bracelets lining nearly half of Gabi’s forearm. Some were solid colored beads, others with letters and symbols. Zig-zag patterns and dangling charms. Badges of honor in her world.

It only took a few minutes of prodding for Josie to agree to make the brownies before anything of real nutritional value. She was feeling a little soft from the gift, admittedly. They agreed to listen to an episode of a true crime podcast Josie enjoyed while they gathered the ingredients–the recipe made the gooeyest fudgy brownies and she fully intended on swirling a layer of peanut butter on the top of this batch–and cooked. Within minutes of pulling the brownies, half the pan was missing and their tongues were burnt. There was just enough cocoa left to make another batch, and Josie was running on a total sugar high. Gabi’s excited energy was just fuel to the fire. She sent her home just after midnight with an entire pan of peanut butter brownies and crashed face first in bed. The actual mountain of dishes in her sink could wait.

Josie woke up early with a stomach ache one thousand percent caused by only eating half a pan of brownies the day before. She chewed a handful of antacid tablets for breakfast, glared in the general direction of her kitchen, and decided a walk was the best use of her time that morning. She changed into an oversized tee, faded graphics showing a camping scene at a lake, and a pair of biker shorts, tossed her hair up into a bun she refused to fuss over, and headed out.

Her neighborhood wasn’t in a dangerous location (an upgrade from her last apartment), just an under-maintained slew of rentals and corner convenience stores just past a highway exit. Just two blocks past the bus station, though, everything was a little… nicer. A row of historic looking storefronts cluttered together amidst the residential neighborhood; a coffee shop slash used book store that served cinnamon rolls the size of your head, a tattoo shop with a beautiful painted rose on the window, a screen printing business with a fading yellow and orange awning, and a chiropractor's office that never seemed to be open. Across the street was a patch of green lawn with a few benches and an octagon gazebo the city, by some stretch, considered a park.

Josie took her time walking to Magpie’s Book & Cafe, where she skipped the cinnamon roll in favor of the biggest size of iced coffee they could legally sell. It was fairly busy so she opted to sit outside, somehow managing to snag a lone picnic bench under a leafy oak tree. She scrolled social media and people watched until her coffee was gone and the warm summer morning sheened her skin with enough sweat to make her uncomfortable. The thought of walking all the way back to her apartment was almost cruel–the temperature had gone up and 32 ounces of coffee was squeezed in her bladder.

By the time she got back to the weedy cracked parking lots at Rose Hill, a sheen of sweat covered Josie from forehead to forearm. She was so focused on getting back to her apartment that she didn’t realize Reiner was walking towards her until she ran straight into him.

“I’m so sorry, oh my God,” Josie cringed, fingers wrapping around his forearm while she wobbled on her feet. The tendons flexed beneath her grasp, and she forced herself not to think about how nice it felt.

“Whoah.” Reiner steadied her with a hand to the shoulder, fingers brushing against a small patch of exposed skin. Her shirt had slipped a little during her walk, the stretched out collar slipping down her shoulder enough for a collarbone to start to peak through. “Josie, hey.”

“Hey,” she parroted a little breathlessly, looking up at him with possibly the reddest face known to mankind. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Of course she would run into Reiner–literally–when she looked like a haggard damp rat. Nobody ever looked good coming back from a walk, she told herself, but that didn’t stop the ‘please let a hole open in the floor and swallow me’ levels of embarrassment of being seen all sweaty and sloppy by her neighbor. Honestly, she should’ve been more embarrassed to still be clinging to his arm like a wet paper towel. She loosened her grip and shot him a wobbly smile.

Reiner’s fingers brushed her shirt collar as he let go of her. If she wasn’t standing directly in his personal bubble, Josie would’ve missed the flush creeping up his neck–disappearing in the fine blonde hairs of his scruff.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m actually ah, glad you ran into me. I mean, I was hoping to catch you today before I head to work.”

“Here I am,” she said, kicking herself internally for sounding so awkward–no for being so awkward. Why was every interaction with Reiner suddenly an opportunity to make herself look like an idiot? Josie got enough of that in her normal day-to-day life. “What’s up?”

“Gabi hasn’t been bothering you the past few nights, right?”

“She’s been fine. Really, Reiner. I’d say a ‘perfect little angel’ but…”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I know. You’re sure though? I know you said it was okay, but I feel like I’m… I don’t know. I’m taking advantage of your offer.”

“You’re not.” Josie found the intensity of his golden eyes suddenly too much. She flitted her gaze down the hallway and admitted, “I’m not the most social person–most of my friends left after high school and it’s hard staying in touch. So it’s nice…having someone around.” She scrunched her nose and looked back to Reiner and corrected, “Having Gabi around. She’s a cool kid.”

Josie meant it. Growing up, she always wished she had a sibling. Someone to trade whispers with in their bedroom while their parents were resting. Someone to fill the space when they were gone–watch cartoons with, split off-brand toaster treats with, someone to be friends with.

Eventually, Josie was old enough to escape the suffocating apartment. She made friends with kids so she could go to their homes after school. Rode her bike up and down the cracked sidewalks around Marley until she found something to entertain her. Joined the basketball team because it was something to do. Took a job at Paradis Mart because she was expected to. At night, though, she returned to an empty bedroom in an empty apartment. The loneliness was as suffocating as it was freeing.

“She is,” He agreed, a soft smile lifting his lips.

“And,” much like she’d done the night before, Josie stuck out her arm and wiggled her wrist back and forth, “I got this sick bracelet out of the deal, so really, you don’t need to worry.”

“She was nervous to give that to you. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

“Oh God, no. I value my life too much to do that.”

Reiner laughed again, a low rumbling noise, and Josie realized it was the most she’d heard him laugh in the entire year they’d been neighbors. Which tracked, considering this was the most they’d talked in that time, too.

“Saturdays are late for me every week, but there’s some fraternity reunion at Liberio tonight and Zeke–my boss–has not stopped talking about it for weeks, so I’ll be lucky to be home before the sun comes up. Gabi will probably be over at some point tonight, if that’s okay…”

“I just said it was,” Josie reminded him. There was an easier way to do this, she realized, swallowing a lump of nervousness. “Hey, why don't we just exchange numbers? You can just text me if you’re going to be late or whatever.” She steamrolled past any opportunity for him to say no, digging her phone out from her bag. “If you’re cool with it, Gabi can have my number, too.”

They exchange phones long enough to punch in contact information. Reiner had an older model Android, much like Josie, but unlike the cute pastel floral case she rocked, he had one of those military grade all black protection cases. He entered his name as “Reiner B. (neighbor)” – like she knew any other Reiners or spoke to any of her other neighbors. It was cute, she thought, he was cute.

“I’m usually home by 7, so tell Gabi she can come by anytime after that… or just have her text me? Either way.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Cool.” Josie was, by no stretch of the word smooth , but this was embarrassing–even for her. She rocked back on her heels, suddenly very aware of how grossly sweaty she was; it wasn’t the most ideal state to be in while talking to anyone, let alone someone who made her get all heart-eyed and swoony. She hooked a finger over her shoulder towards her front door. “I should probably get ready for work.”

Reiner’s eyebrows jumped, head bobbing a few times. “Right, yeah. Sorry for keeping you. I’ll let Gabi know to text you later, if she wants to come over.”

“Okay.”

A second passed. Then another. Despite her–in her opinion, flawless–exit strategy, Josie didn’t make any attempt to leave. Neither did Reiner. He stared at her, face scrunching with that brooding, permanently troubled look he wore so well. She stared back, gnawing on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit she’d long since given up on trying to ever change.

A Mount Salta of dishes waited for her in her apartment. Her plants were past due for a watering. She was in desperate need of a shower. Her bladder was almost alarmingly full. And the bus always ran late on Saturdays, so she needed to get to the bus stop earlier than normal to catch the lagging twelve-thirty shuttle.

“Well–”

“Thanks–”

Sheepishly, Josie smiled and prompted, “Sorry, go ahead.”

“Ah, I was just going to say thanks for the brownies, by the way. It probably wasn’t a good idea to have chocolate at two in the morning, but I couldn’t help myself. They’re dangerously good. I ate way more than I should have.”

“Same,” she laughed. Something warm bloomed in her chest at the complement. “I’m glad you like them.”

“I don’t think Gabi wants to share, but I’m definitely going to sneak another piece before work tonight.” He cupped the back of his neck in a chastened way, shrugging one shoulder.

“Eh, that’s the benefit of being an adult. Just tell her it’s, like, a tax or part of rent or something.”

“Something tells me Daz would be pissed if I tried paying rent with baked goods.”

She couldn’t help but snort. Their landlord was a registered, card-carrying asshole. Every interaction with him required at least a forty-minute pep talk beforehand and a minimum of one beer and an epic mental monologue of curses and threats of violence afterwards.

“Can you imagine? It’s almost worth trying just to see the look on his face.”

“Do you think he can control the vein on his forehead? I swear, one time it looked like he was purposefully flexing it in front of me.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Josie said, bemused. “Ugh, okay. I’m going to for sure miss the bus if I don’t start to get ready soon.” Josie glanced at Reiner, gauche smile pulling her lips when she realized he was on the verge of apologizing. “I hope your night isn’t too bad. Honestly, a frat reunion sounds… miserable. Absolutely miserable.”

“Tell me about it. I’m bar-backing, so I’m sure I’ll be washing glasses and cleaning up spilled whiskey and Natty Light all night.”

“Oh God, yeah,” she winced, “Best of luck to you with that one.”

“Pieck usually tips out pretty well, so I’m trying not to dread going in, but…,” he trailed off into a shrug. Josie tried–and failed–to not stare at the place where his hand rested on his shoulder, fabric wrinkling under his digits. A flush bloomed beneath his beard again; she followed it up the column of his neck, around his jaw, past the few freckles on his cheeks that were almost invisible in the harsh fluorescent hallway lights. His eyes, big and gold, followed her movements. (And suddenly, she was the one wearing crimson all over). “Anyway, I’ll um, I should let you go. Have a good day, Josie.”

When she closed the door behind her after a quick ‘you too’ , Josie pressed her forehead to the cool steel frame, closed her eyes, and gave herself exactly two minutes to replay the highlights of the entire interaction while she mentally kicked herself for being so awkward. Was she really this socially inept and hadn’t noticed? Or was it a Reiner-induced-foot-in-mouth thing?

Her allotted wallowing time ended before Josie came up with a solid answer.

God, she was totally and completely fucked, wasn’t she?

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