Cabin Fever (BXB)

fate decides we're being stupid

"And – and his voice," I said, helping Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds unpack groceries. The sun was shining, but the world seemed so cold compared to the night before. I could barely sleep, etching his face into my mind out of anxiety that I'd never see him again. Trying to find him on Facebook, on anything. Daydreaming of our perfect, perfect life together. "Oh my God. His voice. It was – it was like lemongrass, mixed with chocolate, and they didn't conflict and smelled amazing – "

"Oh dear," Mr. Reynolds snorted.

" – and his hand." I pressed my face against a bundle of bananas. I didn't know why unpacking groceries was so therapeutic for me. Something about it felt right, rhythmic. "How do you describe a hand like that? Did I mention he has freckles?"

"Yes," Mrs. Reynolds sighed, grabbing 2 cans of soup. "There's more to life than freckles, Micah."

"But they were so cute!"

"Now dimples. Those are cute."

Mr. Reynolds hummed. "No, I have to side with Micah. Freckles can be quite cute."

"Thank you."

He raised a brow at me. "Have you ever been this fired up over something?"

"Not since he was a teenager," Mrs. Reynolds sighed. "All your countless causes, Micah. 'Meat is Murder'. 'Animals Feel Pain, Too'. 'Build Bridges, Not Walls'."

"I get it," I said.

"No, there's one more. Something about the environment or water...or something."

"I still support all of those," I said.

Mrs. Reynolds sighs. "God, all your black, too. I can't remember so many black clothes in one place."

"I was going through a phase!"

"Micah, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but being a teenager isn't a 'phase'."

"Have you ever been this fired up over a person? That's the real question."

"No."

"I don't think he was even this enthusiastic for Marie when they were dating."

"I was enthusiastic," I insisted, "and I was fine with the distance. Need I remind you that she broke up with me because she's at the University of Miami, and didn't want to do long distance?"

"Good God, Micah," Mr. Reynolds sighed. "I hope Simon knows how unrelenting you are."

"If he doesn't, that's dangerous," Mrs. Reynolds said.

I grabbed the loaf of bread and bagels, swinging them around. "You don't understand, though. Haven't you ever met someone where you felt like you had an instant connection with someone?"

"Most people have to know each other for that to happen."

"Most people are dumb."

"Well, that isn't wholly true," Mr. Reynolds said, swinging around a bag of oranges. "I remember meeting John from the office for the first time, and immediately not liking him." He put them on the counter before turning to me. "I was right. He was an asshole. Glad he got fired. I get it, Micah."

"Do not, David," Mrs. Reynolds warned.

"I was right, though," he grinned.

"My point stands." I frowned. "I don't want to wait. I want to kiss his cute, freckled face."

"I see where Simon's coming from," Mrs. Reynolds said, rolling her eyes. "Micah Cohen, impatient as ever."

"I just – I don't want this to pass by me because everyone else doesn't believe in this kind of stuff."