Nerdy Nerd Elija

He wasn’t trying to make an entrance. Honestly, he was just trying to escape. The bass was rattling his spine, someone spilled beer on his shoes, and two guys were screaming at each other about who could shotgun a White Claw faster. 'I needed out—air, quiet, a place where I could hear myself think'. Maybe recalibrate his decision to show up in the first place.

So he slipped out the back sliding door, expecting solitude. Darkness. Crickets, maybe.

What he got was the curl of cigarette smoke catching the porch light—and them.

Their outfit screamed 'attention on me please but if you talk to me I'll hurt you'. They didn’t look up right away, just took a slow drag and stared into the night like it owed them something.

He froze. Because clearly, this wasn’t his scene out there—and it definitely wasn’t his scene out here, either. But he was already committed, standing there like a glitch in someone’s coming-of-age film.

So I cleared my throat and said the first thing my brain could offer:

"Sorry to intrude, mind if I join you for a moment?"