Look at You

Chapter 60

60

I'm kissing the side of his face where tears are still coming down. "Si," I use my thumb to swipe the rest. "It's okay."

He shakes his head where it rests between my palms. "I know it's just," he squeezes his eyes shut and lets the last of the unshed tears in his eyes fall. "You're holding me."

My heart clenches and I pull him into my chest.

The sounds of his tears and sniffing die a few minutes later, and I pull away. "So. Home? Back to the concert?"

I don't want to go back to the concert. I want to go straight up the 19 stairs to his apartment and never think about anything else but him and that bed again. But his fingers are twitching in mine and his eyes are darting in the direction of O'Malley's.

"Home," he says. "Home, of course." More conviction the second time around.

I raise my eyebrows. "You sure?" Because if I know Simon, and fuck do I, he wants to go right back to O'Malley's and parade his little success around for everyone in the bar to see. Normally, I'd hate that. But it's Simon. And it's less about us than it is about his dying wish to be the most successful thing that comes out of this town.

"Of course," he puts on a very fake resolute face. "Back to the concert—why, why would I—I could never—"

"Let's go," I pull myself off him and start dragging him back toward the bar. "Let's let you show off."

"It's not that at all," he says, but he's in step with me—arguably walking faster. "It's not that, I promise. It's just—my mom has seen me in various stages of pure misery this month, my friends stayed over for 5 hours today to help me practice, Callie in particular she's a god damn hero—and Finn, well he'll obviously want to know how it went and—"

"Okay," I squeeze his hand. As an afterthought I add, "And I wouldn't mind a little two step."

O'Malley's is more crowded than it was before, but as soon as we get around the massive crowd at the actual bar, we see the space in front of Finn's stage is shockingly bare. Simon pauses just as we reach a clearing that opens up a view to our table. And it's not just our friends there anymore.

His parents, his pregnant sister still sipping on that Coke, Craig, Libby, and Emily are all gathered around it in various stages of laughter and conversation. Almost as soon as we see them, they see us.

I'm not holding Simon's hand anymore, so the wide eyes and the anticipation over everyone's faces—especially Libby's—are expected. I look down at Simon, his gaze locked on Callie's. He gives a very quick, very subtle thumbs up that has Callie's lips breaking out in the most genuine smile I've seen.

"Are you kidding?" I say to Simon, smiling. He looks over at me.

"What?"

"A thumbs up?"

"I'm trying to be subtle!"

I cross my arms over my chest. "Lame." I take a step toward him. "We didn't come back here for just a thumbs up."

He blinks rapidly. "Well, obviously we came back for the two-step and—"

He's cut off by my hand on his cheek and my lips on his and a steady grip on his waist that helps me tip him back ever so slightly.

I only register that the wolf-whistling and cheering is for us when I pull away from him and every one of our friends (and Simon's family) has a smile on. Even Libby.

"Fuck," Simon mutters, straightening his t-shirt. He looks me dead in the eye, the most serious he's looked all night. "I fucking love you." And then he takes off toward the table, instantly wrapping Callie in a celebratory hug.