And there was Dustin.
Dustin on the opposite side of a shelf that was alreadytipping, raining cans and boxes, the shadow of it falling over Dustin like a closing hand.
No!
Greg flung himself at Dustin.
They hit the floor together. Greg landed on top of Dustin and Dustin's arm locked around him and the shelf came down behind them with a sound like the world ending.
The crash was enormous. Metal and glass and canned goods and the thick, wet explosion of things that shattered on impact. A jar of something — pasta sauce, Greg would later realize — burst against the floor two feet from Dustin's head, spattering them both.
Someone screamed.
Dustin breathed hard, staring up at Greg.
“Did you just—” Dustin started.
“Are you hurt?”
“Where did you come from?”
“Are youhurt?”
“I'm covered in marinara, Greg!”
“Okay. Okay.” Greg exhaled. Relief swept through him so intensely it would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't already been on the floor. His whole body was shaking and he couldn't look away from Dustin.
Dustin's hand found his face. “Areyouhurt?”
Greg shook his head.
“Then why are you crying?”
He was crying? He was. He could feel the tears now, hot and involuntary, running down his face and onto Dustin's shirt. He didn't know when they had started.
“The onions you picked up,” he tried. “Don't they make people cry?”
“Not like this.” Dustin's thumb wipedhis cheek. It was a rough gesture, quick and graceless, and his hand was trembling too. “You just came through the shelf to tackle me.”
“The shelf was falling.”
“I can see that.” Dustin's gaze moved past Greg to the wreckage — the toppled unit, the scattered products, the spreading pool of pasta sauce. “You knew,” he said quietly.
Greg couldn't deny it.
“You knew something was going to happen here. That's why you've been acting weird all day. That's why you couldn't tell me.” Dustin's voice was low enough that no one else could hear. “You brought me here on purpose.”
“I didn't bring you here,” Greg said. “I just couldn't stop you either.”
Around them, the store was erupting into motion. The manager was on his phone. Someone was taking a video. The employee who'd been mopping a second ago was staring at the toppled shelf as if he was just now realizing that he'd be spending a long time cleaning up this mess.
Slowly, Greg rolled off Dustin.
“We're going to talk about this,” Dustin said. Not a question.
“Yes,” Greg said.
The manager hurried over. “Are you guys okay? I am so sorry — we had no idea that unit was loose! We're going to cover any medical expenses, anything you need?—”
