The memory faded as Marcus and I neared the corner of the liquor store, the hustle of the city buzzing around us. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, letting the cool air whip through my hair as Marcus chatted away beside me.
Marcus was on his own now, holding down a small apartment just a few blocks away. He never said much about his past in foster care, though I knew it had left scars. Adopted a couple of times, bounced around more than any kid should be—it was the kind of history he didn't let anyone dig into. A grey area, full of wounds he didn't want reopened.
He'd moved forward, though, in his Marcus way. Always laughing, always joking. It was his armor. I respected it.
"Man, if we're late, I'm blaming you," Marcus grumbled as we pushed through the liquor store's glass door.
"You're blaming me?" I scoffed, weaving through the aisles. "You were the one stopping to talk to every dog on the way here like some kinda Dr. Dolittle."
Marcus shot me a glare, snatching a bag of chips from the shelf. "Don't hate on my animal kingdom connections, bro. Maybe you need to learn how to vibe like me."
I laughed, grabbing a bottle of soda. "Yeah, well, vibe faster or we're gonna miss the bus. Speaking of which, how much money you got? I might need to borrow a little."
Marcus froze mid-reach for some beef jerky. "Wait, you need money? I need money! You know how much stuff I gotta buy?!"
"Stuff like what?" I teased, narrowing my eyes. "You saving up for that girl you've been crushing on? What was her name again? Jasmine? Janine?"
His face scrunched in exaggerated disgust. "Boy, get outta here with that nonsense! Ain't nobody thinking about her."
I smirked. "You sure? 'Cause last I checked, you were following her around like a lost puppy."
Marcus tried to retort, but his words trailed off as his attention shifted to the store entrance. His nose wrinkled, his face twisting in disgust.
"Man, you smell that?" he muttered.
"Smell what?" I asked, but the question died in my throat as I turned to see what he was staring at.
A man had walked in—his clothes tattered, his frame hunched, as though he carried the weight of the world on his back. But it wasn't just his appearance that froze me in place.
It was the stench.
Marcus was narrating under his breath, blown away. "Smells like something crawled outta the sewer and died."
The man shuffled forward, coughing violently into his hands. The sound was wet and raw, like his lungs were full of gravel. Marcus's gaze sharpened, his lips pulling into a frown.
Then I saw it.
As the man lowered his hands, black, bubbling blood smeared across his palms. It hissed faintly, eating into his skin like acid, leaving raw patches of flesh behind. He wiped his mouth quickly and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to conceal the damage.
I froze, my eyes wide, my pulse roaring in my ears. The air seemed thicker, harder to breathe. The man's sunken eyes glanced around the store, and for a split second, they landed on me.
My heart stopped.
I looked away, trying to act casual, but every muscle in my body screamed to run.
"You good, bro?" Marcus asked, still watching the man but now side-eyeing me. He'd just cracked a joke that I hadn't responded to—a joke I'd normally fire back at in an instant.
I snapped out of it, forcing a laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about how ugly you are." I shoved his head playfully, trying to mask the tremor in my hand.
Marcus grinned. "That's more like it. Thought I lost you for a second."
I grabbed a few more snacks and slapped some money onto the counter, avoiding the cashier's gaze. "Come on," I muttered, tugging at Marcus's sleeve.
"What you doin'?" he asked, following me reluctantly.
"Let's just go," I said, my voice low.
"Why you in a rush? You didn't steal something, did you?"
"No, but I don't wanna be here when the cops show up or somethin'."
Marcus hesitated, then broke into a grin. "Oh, I get it. You scared they gonna think you're my accomplice. Don't worry, I'll bail you out, tiny."
"Shut up," I shot back, already halfway out the door.
We burst onto the sidewalk, Marcus laughing as he jogged to catch up.
"What was that about?" he asked, still grinning.
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Just felt like making a quick exit. You know how these places are."
"Man, you're so weird sometimes," he said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, and you're so slow sometimes," I teased, picking up my pace.
As we made our way to the bus stop, I glanced back toward the liquor store. The man was still inside, his gaunt frame illuminated by the flickering fluorescent lights.
Something about him felt wrong. Deeply, irrevocably wrong.
But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Marcus was already dragging me forward, cracking jokes and pulling me back into the present.
For now, that was enough.