Cabin Fever (BXB)

the first time i had a conversation with simon

"Thanks," he whispered, taking the newly-made hot chocolate from me as I sat down on the bench next to him. He took a sip and looked at me. "Sorry. H-how's your elbow...? I – aren't you cold?"

I flushed red, and I didn't understand how this guy already made me putty in his hands and he didn't even do anything yet. "My elbow's fine," I beam, raising my rolled-up sleeve at him. "No harm, no foul. Again, I was the one who took your drink."

"But aren't you cold? It's, like 30-something degrees right now."

I shook my head. "Kind of? Not really." I patted my chest. "I'm very warm-blooded." I glanced out at the street and up to the stars above us. The air still, somehow, smelled like seaweed and fried foods, ocean air and cotton candy, and the waves on the beach only really added to it all. "And a cold night means the sky is clear." That's one of the things I liked about Harley. The quiet enthusiasm for the cosmos that he welcomed anyone in on. I took a sip of my cappuccino. "Pretty, isn't it?" I side-eyed him.

Simon blinked, then breathlessly grunted. "I...sorry, I forgot your name."

I sat up a little straighter. "Oh, God, I thought you – never mind. I'm Micah."

Simon smirked, and it's so freaking cute it made me want to lean into him. "I think, technically, I took your drink first."

I sighed and looked down at my caramel cappuccino, now cold and settling in the cup. It's the best drink I've ever had in my entire life. "What brought you out here tonight?"

His lips pursed, Simon cleared his throat. "I finished a project. It was delivered late, and it was my fault, but I thought..." He hummed, waving his hand through the cold air. He took a sip and let out a slow breath. "You?"

I shook my head. "No real reason. Everyone I went to school with liked this place, and they're all in college now, but I just...felt like coming out for coffee. To remember, I guess." I grinned at him. "I got to meet you, so...does that count?"

Simon glanced away. He took another sip of his hot chocolate.

Oh, God, if he was religious and there I was, accidentally dropping G*d's name like a freaking rapper, I would have absolutely started crying. Or apologizing. Apologizing while crying was also an option.

"You're cheesy, huh?"

"...yeah. Sorry if it's gross."

"Not gross. Just...I don't know. Different."

"Hm."

"...haven't seen you around here before." Simon looked at me. "I, generally, know the people around here. Are you...did you just move here?"

I shook my head. "No. I've lived on Washington Street for the past 8 years with my foster parents."

"Oh." It was soft, with this sad, aching realization. "Sorry."

"Nononono, it's okay." I looked away and took a sip of cappuccino. "It happened so long ago that it doesn't really matter now. I mean, it does, but...less so." I leaned back against the bench outside the cafe. "Where would you expect to see me?"

Simon shrugged. "I don't know. The usual hangouts?"

"Usual hangouts?"

"Yeah. The Bugle. That bar on 22nd Street. The Warehouse, down by Jefferson's. The...some of us go down to The Rainbow Room in Morris River sometimes."

I cocked my head to the side. "I've heard of the Rainbow Room, but it never really occurred to me to go to it." I looked at my drink. "Like, I'm not..." I didn't want to say it.