Dancing With Danger ➵Tyrus (COMPLETE)

2

"So, has everybody met the new guy, TJ, yet?" Buffy starts with a huff. Andi, Buffy, Marty, and Jonah are all sat on bar stools while I stand behind the counter at work and fix them lattes. Usually Jonah's boyfriend Walker would be here too, but he's been busy working on some project for SAVA--Shadyside Academy of Visual Arts. Walker and Andi both attend there, whereas Buffy, Marty, and Jonah go to Grant High School like I do. It was finally Friday, so the whole group is hanging out.

Everyone except for Andi simply nods their head and exchange knowing glances, like TJ's already got some reputation built-up or something. I let a grin escape and Buffy immediately glares at me. "What, do you like him or something? Cyrus, I swear-"

"No," I interject. "Of course not. He's a bad boy. A straight bad boy, at that. He's not my type."

It's Jonah's turn to interrupt because he's quick to frown at me. "You shouldn't assume anybody's sexuality, Cy. Remember, you thought I was straight for the longest time!"

I sigh thoughtfully and nod my head. He's totally right. And to think, I had the biggest crush on him for years. Then one day, he showed off his new boyfriend Walker to everybody and I just about stabbed my eyes out.

"I wish I had a subtle way to figure out whether or not he likes guys," I finally responded, not missing Buffy's glare and rolling eyes. "So you are into him!" Andi accuses. "I don't even know who this guy is, but I have a feeling that Buffy's not a fan of him."

I start to protest, but Jonah cuts me off. "It's okay, Cyrus. I already ship you two together...you shall be known as 'CJ' from here on!" Andi gives Jonah a sideways glance and shakes her head. "No, no, if this guys' name is TJ, then I think 'Tyrus' is the superior ship name." Buffy's annoyance reaches a peak and she gets up from her seat. "How about there is no ship? How about Cyrus ignores TJ for the rest of ever and we move on already?" Marty, who has been silent up to this point, whispers something into her ear and grabs her arm. Marty says 'goodbye' to the group and the couple walk out the door, Buffy silently in tow. Andi sighs and widely smiles, throwing her hands up and exclaiming "So, tell me about TJ!"

It's 3:07 am when my eyelids flutter open and I'm faced with another insomnia episode. I sigh and throw my sheets back, deciding to head downstairs and fix a glass of warm milk. When I'm down the stairs, I hear muffled talking coming from the living room and instinctively press my head against the wall. My parents are arguing again, of course. I ultimately head to the front door and slip my shoes on, grabbing my car keys from the hook and silently slipping outside.

I'm not sure where I want to go, or if I even have anywhere to go. It's 3 in the morning, and it's not really normal for me to go on late-night solo excursions like this. Being at home is getting more difficult by the day, though. Since I'm no longer feeling the weight of sleepiness, I decide to visit the 24-hour diner downtown by the coffee shop, which I'm pretty sure is called 'The Spoon'. I start up my car and blast the radio, making it downtown in about 20 minutes. I'm surprised to see a small line of motorcycles lined up outside of The Spoon, and I can't help but think of TJ. I shake the thoughts forming in my head and head inside, not fully aware of the fact that I'm wearing a gray t-shirt and my blue dinosaur pajama bottoms. I mean, it's 3 a.m. A tired-looking waitress waves me in and tells me to sit wherever I like as she grabs a menu, so I sit in a booth by a jukebox and listen to some 70s song ringing out. I hear somebody exclaim "Oh, yeah! I love this song!" from the opposite side of the restaurant, and my jaw practically finds its way to the floor when I see none other than TJ Kippen walking over to where I'm sitting in my booth, now suddenly hyper-aware of my dinosaur pajama pants.

He looks stunning, drunk off the night and grinning like mad. His hair is out of the gelled state I had gotten used to seeing it in this week. The jacket that Dr. Metcalf made him stop wearing to school is carelessly thrown over his shoulder, and I can see the outline of his tattoo as his arms hang loosely at his sides. He had been wearing long-sleeve shirts all week--presumably to hide it away--but now he's wearing another tank top. I'm pretty sure his tattoo has a date on it in Roman numerals, although I can't really tell for sure. Just as TJ is approaching my booth, I open my mouth to say 'hi' but he swaggers right past me. He heads for the jukebox, turning up the volume and blasting the rock song. "Boys, this is our song!" he exclaims to his friends across the restaurant, who are now getting up to jump around and laugh alongside TJ. I look over at the jukebox now that TJ is dancing with his friends. The song is called "Problem Child" by AC/DC. I guess I can see why TJ loves this song so much. Almost as soon as it starts, the song ends and TJ goes back to the table with his friends. They're all out of breath by this point. The waitress comes to the table to jot down my order, and I decide to get a chocolate-chocolate-chip muffin and iced coffee.

I'm pretty absorbed in my food and scrolling through Instagram, so I don't notice when TJ plops down across from me until I get up to grab a napkin. "TJ!" I exclaim, silently praying that I don't have chocolate smeared across my face. "Goodman, what's a babe like you doing in a downtown diner at 3 am? Nice pajamas, by the way." I rub my eyes and rub my mouth with my sleeve, reminding myself that he's not flirting; he's just night drunk and trying to make me laugh. I give him a chuckle and explain that I couldn't sleep.

He looks at me thoughtfully, listening with intent as I explain my struggles with anxiety and insomnia, also glossing over my parents' inevitable divorce looming over me like a constant dark cloud. I don't even know why I'm opening up to TJ like this; after all, I'm supposed to be supporting him and getting inside of his head. "So," I finally finish, unintentionally slamming my hands on the table. I inwardly wince at the sound. "What about you, TJ? Tell me about yourself."

TJ laughs a little and launches into a conversation about growing up in foster care and how messed up he thinks the system is. He explains that he's an anarchist and I can't help but let a gasp escape my mouth. My parents are super political, and I didn't think anarchists really lived in small towns like Shadyside. TJ's friends are still laughing away at their own table, completely unaware--or perhaps not caring--that their friend is over here and talking to me. The conversation grows a little more tense when TJ explains being in juvenile detention. My curiosity gets the better of me and I just have to ask him what happened. He lets out a sigh and explains that he was with the wrong person at the wrong time; long story short, a gun was involved and he was lucky to get off with 6 months staying in "juvie" and serving 80 hours of community service. I was so engrossed in all that TJ was telling me, I didn't even realize that it was nearly 7 o'clock until his friends started putting their jackets on and grabbing their helmets. TJ glances at them before looking at me wearily, and I give him a gentle nod. "Thanks for...this," TJ says softly, getting up and shrugging into his jacket. "I have to go, but...you know where to find me."

I giggle and shake my head. "Downtown at a diner at 3 am? Don't worry, I couldn't forget that even if I tried." TJ gives me a smile and heads out the door with his friends, but I catch his gaze when he looks back at me. Maybe I'm just sleep-deprived, but I'm pretty sure he just winked at me.

Maybe TJ isn't nearly as dangerous as I originally thought he'd be...