a different type of high | s.r.

part three

"Uh," I shifted on my feet and looked back at his face, "I just... I don't really drink coffee or anything," I crossed my arms over my chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me. "I guess hot chocolate is okay," I whispered and looked back up at Spencer.

"Hot chocolate, pretty good," he spoke as he shoved his other hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet. We both silently stepped up to the counter.

"Hey there, what can I get you guys?" The barista had a certain chipper-ness to her tone. It was probably from all the caffeine she consumes on a daily basis. Or it was the fact that she's been awake for a million hours and is just tired. Probably the former...

"Large coffee, plain... Room for sugar and cream," Spencer smiled at the barista. I shoved my hands in my pocket, hoping to find a spare bill or two. But when I pulled my hand out and it was empty, I frowned. Of course, I don't have extra money. I'm a 22-year-old drug addict (Recovering... Recovering drug addict), who buys street drugs and can barely pay rent on time. Why would I have extra money shoved into my pocket?

"I don't need anything," I looked up at Spencer and forced a fake smile on my lips. He frowned and looked at the barista, who was watching the two of us with a friendly smile.

"No, no, my treat. Don't worry about it," He gestured to the counter. He removed his arm from my shoulder and pulled money from his wallet. I looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the barista.

"Uh, small hot chocolate... Thanks," I kept my voice low, mostly because my anxiety was going crazy. No one's ever gotten me a drink before, much less anything.

The barista smiled at Spencer and I before taking the money from him. I glanced at him, watching him place the change into the tip jar. He looked down at me with a small smile before guiding me over to where a sign that said "Pick Up Here" sat.

"You didn't have to buy me a drink, Spencer," I whispered as we stayed close to one another. He shrugged as he shoved both hands into his pocket. "No, seriously, it's okay,"

"It isn't okay, because it's cold outside and having a nice hot drink is always nice." Spencer looked down at me and shrugged, "Just accept the kind gesture," he lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder.

"I've never had someone just buy me something before. I mean," I stopped myself from talking because the end of that statement had to do with drugs. "Ya know?" I glanced at him, hoping he'd just know what I meant.

"Well, that'll have to change, won't it," he whispered and smiled softly. I stared at him and shrugged. I shifted my gaze from his face and to the ground between us.

"Here's that hot chocolate and coffee for you two." A different barista smiled at Spencer and I as he placed two paper cups on the counter. Spencer grabbed both cups and handed one over to me. We both turned to leave.

"Listen, Spencer, hot chocolate is one thing. But a coat? That's a whole other thing," I spoke before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I hummed as the warmth spread through my body. He smiled at me before grasping my hand.

"C'mon," Spencer started as he pulled me towards the door of the cafe. I could feel a smile tug on my lips as we walked past a new rush of people.

"Reid?" a woman's voice spoke, stopping Spencer and I in our tracks. He looked away from me and towards the owner of the voice. I followed his gaze and saw a thin brunette. I didn't like the way he pulled his hand away from mine like he didn't want to be caught with someone.

"H-Hi, Emily," Spencer stared at her with wide eyes. The tone and shakiness in his voice definitely told the person and I that he was anxious that this was happening. Which was valid, considering we were just talking about his friends and co-workers and it'd be bad if they found out about NA.