Look at You

Chapter 8

8

It's despicable, really, how much I'm spending on this stupid Uber Eats coffee situation. I need to stop tipping Zack so much, or I need to get up a little earlier to get to Buzz or Starbucks before work. It's Thursday now, and I've ordered one every day this week. I think I'm down almost 60 bucks. It stings a little every time I open the app.

"Hey," I smile as I push open the door to the vestibule to let Zack into the heated lobby. He nods graciously. "How's the weather out there?"

"Bitter," his voice matches the description. "But I've seen worse."

I laugh. It's almost in the negatives with wind chill. "Where, Siberia?" This comment gets me a lazy half smile and a few shakes of his head.

"Nah, man it's always bad in February. Thank god March is around the corner." It is, quite literally, March on Monday. My birth month, of course. I am already dreaming of the homemade feast my grandma is going to make. She is the only one who can perfect all my Hawaiian favorites because in an effort to assimilate when they moved, she never taught Alice to make any of her traditional dishes.

I ask Zack how he's managing the classes, and we work through a nuance he doesn't understand. It takes longer than I expect, so when I say goodbye and start heading up the staircase for the elevator, the lobby isn't empty like it usually is at this time. I almost run into Cameron who is heading up the stairs as well.

We fall into a synchronized step. "Good morning," I tell him, taking him in. Red Sox hat, long sleeve gray t-shirt, jeans, and work boots, a Ticonderoga tucked behind his left ear.

He has a way of looking at me without moving any more of his body than he has to. It's a side glance that slides to me like he's not sure if I'm actually there, or if he's just imagined me. "Another twenty-dollar coffee this morning?"

So, he has noticed my expensive habit.

"It's an act of civil disobedience," I say. He opens the door at the top of the steps and holds it open for me to go first. "A protest against the lack of coffee in this house of horrors." I'm lucky the place is empty. My voice is deep, and it carries.

I hear a low chuckle from behind me as I hit the up button. I smile to myself and wipe it clean before turning around to look at him. It's the first time I've heard him actually laugh.

"Civil disobedience that literally only affects your wallet. Sounds like a good idea."

I nod, head held high. "Yes Cameron, it is a noble practice thank you for noticing."

He's smiling. Now I can see what has the women gossiping about him over at the water cooler.

"How about you buy some coffee? Make some here?"

"That ruins the protest." The elevator chimes open and we begin to step in. He puts a hand in front of the door to keep it from closing and waits for me to go first. "It's about showing them the injustice. Waving it in their faces."

Cameron snorts, looking down at his shoes shaking his head. When he's finished with his moment, he looks over at me. "Don't know if you noticed Simon, but I think the only person who even sees you get the coffee is me. And the receptionist, maybe, on a good day."

The door suddenly bursts open again and I realize I forgot to press the floor button. I jam 8 just as he says six over my shoulder. I press it and step backward with my arms crossed. We shoot upwards at a speed incredibly concerning for me personally.

"How do you think the Dalai Lama began his protests? It only takes a small few, Cameron. It starts with us."

The elevator dings and the door pops open. He stares at me with a crooked smile of disbelief. He holds my eyes long enough for the door to start closing again. I hit the open button and smirk back at him. "Good day."