Page 38 of Top Shelf


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"About what? Frostbite?"

"About commitment. About principles." He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket, shoulders hunched against the wind. "About the human right to wear whatever shoes you want, regardless of weather conditions."

"That's not a human right."

"It should be. I'm drafting a petition."

I unlocked my rental car. The locks chirped, absurdly loud in the muffled quiet of falling snow.

Pickle slid into the passenger seat with an exaggerated groan of relief. "Oh my God. Heat. You have heat."

"Most cars do."

"Don't ruin this for me." He held his hands up to the vent, fingers splayed, face slack. "I'm having a moment."

I put the car in drive. "Which way?" I asked.

He gave me directions. I drove slowly. The roads were slick, visibility dropping by the minute. Pickle's knee was close to the center console—close enough to be aware of it.

"Thanks," he said after a minute. "For the ride. You didn't have to."

"You said that already."

"I'm being polite. It's a thing people do."

We passed a block in silence. Not awkward—full. The wipers beat a rhythm against the windshield. Snow piled on the hood, sliding off in small avalanches when I braked.

Pickle spoke. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Why'd you stay?"

I glanced at him. His face was lit by the dashboard glow, half in shadow. He wasn't smiling.

"Stay where?"

"Tonight. At The Drop." He picked at a thread on his sleeve. "You had your footage. You could've left hours ago."

I gave him a vague answer.

"I wasn't ready to go back to the hotel."

"Why not?"

"It's quiet there."

Pickle nodded slowly. "Yeah. Quiet's hard sometimes."

"Is it?"

"For me it is." He was still picking at that thread, not looking at me. "Quiet means my brain gets loud. Starts listing all the ways I'm probably screwing up. All the people I'm probably disappointing." A pause. "It's easier to be around noise. Drowns the rest out."

I thought about my hotel room and the hum of the mini-fridge.

"I get that," I said.

As I neared his apartment building, Pickle looked at me with searching intensity.