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The air inside Quint Caldeira’s shoebox bedroom was hazy and reeked of weed. Sprawled across the floor, on the soft, worn carpet, lay AJ Sterling, who was too busy mumbling incoherent complaints about how hungry he was to focus on how late it had gotten. He reached out for nothing towards the ceiling of Quint’s bedroom, earning a concerned glance from Quint, who was propped up on one elbow, vision dizzy from the joint he just lit and took a hit of.
“Bro,” AJ mumbled, “I’m high as shit right now.”
“Same,” Quint agreed. He usually never got as high as AJ—who was a lightweight anyways—when they smoked together, but tonight, he figured why the hell not. It was a Saturday, and it’s not like anything happens in March, anyways.
They were quiet for a while before AJ attempted to sit himself up on the carpet, “Can we get food or something?”
“There’s leftover buffalo wings in the fridge.”
AJ’s stomach grumbled at the sound of food, “Oh, look. It’s talking to me. It’s saying ‘yes, please Quint.’”
“C’mon,” Quint got up from his bed and hooked his arms under AJ’s armpits, hoisting him up with a grunt, “Let’s get you fed and then take you home.”
In the short walk from Quint’s bedroom to his kitchen, AJ poked his own stomach, giggling about how it was apparently talking to him. Quint rolled his eyes, but a faint smirk remained on his face as they made their way to the fridge. The sound of Quint’s dad snoring on the couch and a faint Brazilian novela in the background would usually make Quint tense, but combined with the marijuana and the fact that AJ was there, he was surprisingly relaxed.
He opened the fridge and grabbed the buffalo wings, which were tucked into the corner in a small bowl. There only seemed to be a few left, which made Quint frown. As he reached for the microwave to reheat them, AJ’s hand landed on his arm.
“Quint,” he whispered, eyes wide, “Your buffalo wings look weird.”
Confused, Quint looked down at the bowl in his hand. He squinted his eyes, and as they focused, in the bowl was something he’d never seen inside of his fridge before.
AJ, with glistening eyes, breathed, “It’s a bell pepper.”
Before Quint could ever register what was happening, AJ snatched the orange bell pepper out of the bowl and bit into it. He hummed, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss at the taste.
“I don’t want those wings anymore,” AJ declared, mouth full of the bell pepper.
Quint had to blink multiple times to realize he wasn’t imagining this, “What the fuck is happening?”
AJ shrugged before hopping onto Quint’s kitchen counter, kicking his legs happily. Quint, deciding he needed another joint and probably another after that, shook his head. He pulled out his phone to document what was happening so he could laugh at AJ about it later, but not before realizing the time.
“…Holy shit, AJ,” Quint gasped, turning his phone so AJ could see the time. “It’s almost 2:00! In the morning!”
AJ’s mouth fell open, but then he slowly shook his head, “Can’t be. I got here like 10 minutes ago.”
Quint stared at AJ, “Fuck, your curfew, it’s—”
“I left my house at 5:00! You wanna tell me I’ve been here for… for, uh…” He paused for far too long to do the mental math. “7 hours?”
“Literally yes!” Quint’s voice was rising.
AJ scoffed, “Bullshit. I know I haven’t been here that long.”
“Look!” Quint shoved the phone in AJ’s face again, but this time, AJ’s eyebrows rose at the sight of the screen.
“Quint…”
“What?”
AJ grabbed the phone out of Quint’s hand and put it facedown on the kitchen counter, hopping down from where he was perched, “Your phone. It’s possessed.”
“Huh?” Was all Quint could respond with. He was definetly going to need another joint after this.
AJ started pushing Quint back towards his bedroom, hands shaky, but Quint used his strength to his advantage, gently taking AJ’s hands off of his shoulders and grabbing his phone. The screen lit up.
3:02 A.M.
AJ wasn’t lying.
Quint slammed his phone back on the counter, and practically yanked AJ all the way into his bedroom again. AJ yelped at the tug, but allowed himself to be dragged until Quint dropped him into his bed. Quint started pacing his room,
“How is that possible? How can the time do that so quickly? Why did—“
“Dude,” AJ interjected, voice trembling, whether from the high or genuine fear, neither of them knew, “My phone too…”
As if in sync, they both glanced at Quint’s alarm clock. Luckily, it still read 2:05 A.M.
“Okay, so something’s still normal,” Quint nodded his head, like that fixed everything. He sat down on the bed, giving a reasonable distance between himself and AJ.
AJ sat up and scooted closer towards Quint. Quint unconsciously did the same to AJ, until their shoulders and thighs were brushing. Then, AJ wrapped his arms around Quint’s shoulders. Quint’s arms instinctively went around AJ’s waist.
“We’re gonna die,” AJ sobbed into Quint’s shoulder, “Our phones are possessed and they’re going to murder us. I’m going to die in this fuckass house, and I didn’t even get to finish my bell pepper!”
Quint’s voice cracked, “No. My alarm clock. It’s going to protect us or something. I know it will.”
“It wakes you up every morning, how will it save us?” AJ wailed.
Quint had no response to that, because AJ was right. How can something that wakes him up every day save them from their phones, which were possessed enough to change the time like that?
“it was the bell pepper,” AJ mumbled against Quint’s shirt. “That corner of your fridge is cursed. We got food poisoning from the takeout we reheated that came from that corner.”
Quint leaned his head atop AJ’s, tears welling up again, “I wanted wings…”
AJ’s stomach grumbled once again, “Quint, is my stomach possessed now too?”
The thought alone made AJ break down again, full-body sobs that genuinely made Quint sober up because of how raw and real they were.
Quint quietly rocked the two of them, shushing AJ as his sobs turned quieter, and eventually, into little sniffles. They didn’t say much until AJ’s phone dinged, implying he received a text.
AJ, very reluctantly so, reached for his phone. He wiped his eyes with one hand as he slowly turned the screen of his phone, revealing a text from his brother, Pitch.
pitch🤢 (3:08 A.M.): don't forget abt daylight savings dude. dad already changed your clock forward for u earlier tdy
They stared at the message in silence.
AJ sniffed. Quint blinked.
Collectively, sober enough to process what they both just read, AJ and Quint groaned loudly before bursting into bright, uncut laugher.