Snow in August

Chapter Three

"Hey, how are ya?" Simon grinned at the couple walking past him.
He entered the cafe, taking in the comforting smell of coffee. The buzz of the lonely people and the quiet tv near the register were wonderfully familiar.
He wasn't ready when Baz came. He didn't ever expect to see him again, but there he was.
"Oh, um, hey. Can I have a large iced mocha?" Simon didn't move. He stared at Baz, confused and flustered. "Hello? Snow."
"I-I just- how could you just say that?" He could feel the heat radiating off his face. "You just walk in here and do that."
"I ordered a coffee, what's the problem?" Baz glanced around at the turning heads.
"There's no problem." Simon started making the mocha. "There's no problem."
"Snow, are you okay?" Baz leaned over the register to look at him.
"It was supposed to be one night," Simon muttered to himself.
"What?"
"It should have been one night. And then I'd never see you again and I'd forget about you. You'd forget about me and it would have been fine." Simon realized how upset he seemed and unfurrowed his eyebrows. "Here's your drink, that'll be 3.56."
"Expensive..."
"Just give me two dollars."
Fuck this boy. Fuck the way he put a knot right in the center of Simon's stomach. And the way his eyes looked straight into him, like he could read his mind. And the way he'd somehow made Simon blush every time they talked.
"Thanks, Snow. You're a disaster, you know."
"My name is Simon."
"Simon Snow, right?" Baz smirked as he walked away.
"Fuck," Simon grumbled, quickly going into the office to wait for his face to cool off.

He thought about him for hours, for days. He could barely remember that night but something about this guy made his heart fast and his head all fuzzy. He wanted to see him again and he worked ten extra shifts at the cafe just to see if he'd show up.
Simon had just stopped hoping when he finally did. He lifted his head off the counter and there he was. Baz was standing right outside the door, staring at the handle. He blinked a few times, licked his bottom lip, shifted his weight to the other leg. Then he looked up. Simon decided the best course of action was to duck down under the counter and hide.
"You absolute buffoon," Simon mumbled to himself, covering his face with his hands. He considered his options: stand up and make an absolute fool of himself, pretend to have had a stroke. Baz had traveled over to the register, looking around, searching. Simon stood way too suddenly, and Baz watched him grab a mug from a shelf under the counter.
"Yup, there it is. Hey, what do you want?" He scratched his neck, placing the mug down.
"Um, hi. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to-I mean if you could-fuck. Fuck it, I want to buy you dinner. And breakfast. Tomorrow night-not at the same time, I-I... I tried to be smooth and it didn't work-"
"Yeah, sure, Baz." Baz smiled, he smiled. "One large iced mocha coming up, on me." He turned around just before the grin broke out on his face. When he'd finished making the drink, he turned to see Baz watching him, smiling. "Go sit down, you idiot." So he did.

All Simon could talk about was Baz. How cute and awkward he was, how incredible it felt to make him smile.
"I'm so happy for you, Simon," Penny said over the phone.
"I hate having my hopes up when we haven't even been on a date. But it's so hard when he's so pretty," Simon laughed.
"Well, I felt the same way you did when I met Micah, and now... We're engaged! He proposed at dinner tonight!"
"What?! Why did you wait so long to tell me?" He grinned, picking at the skin on his thumb.
"'Cause you wouldn't shut up, gushing about Baz," Penny mocked.
"Holy shit, I'm so happy for you," Simon stated, ignoring Penny's joking. He pulled at the loose skin much too hard and his nose scrunched up in silent pain.
"I mean fuck, Simon, a wedding!" He took the phone away from his ear as Penny started yelling the wedding plans at him.
He could imagine her looking great with bright red hair (it was the first time since she was a teenager that she'd decided to dye her hair) popping against her dark skin, a silky dress flowing gracefully around her, and a huge smile on her face. He could see the entire wedding, and when he finally said goodbye and hung up, he realized he'd made himself the maid (man?) of honor and the head wedding planner.
He texted her immediately: Hey Pen, I love you so much and so to conclude that's why I can't plan your wedding
And she responded quite fast: I know, it was just funny to hear you say the word commitment
"Haha," Simon said aloud sarcastically.
Haha, he typed.
He suddenly realized how long it'd been since he had a drink. Life had just been going so well for once, it slipped his mind.

The liquor store was a couple blocks away from Simon's flat. (He really lucked out with this flat.) (Too bad he had to spend the first two years there living with Agatha.)
"Good day, Philip." Simon tossed his ID onto the counter and went to wander the store.
Philip was a decent guy, the sex wasn't incredible or anything, reminded him of two other Philips he'd been with. Simon had a theory that all Philips were actually the same person. (One day he didn't call Nightclub Philip back and Liquor Store Philip was acting quite moody.)
No matter. Simon placed a bottle of vodka and a pack of gum on the counter, gave Philip a bit of eye contact so he'd get flustered enough to shut up, and slapped some cash down on the counter. He picked up his ID, gave the idiot a smile, and left straight to his apartment.
Simon laid across his couch, open bottle on the floor, phone in his hand.
I'm hungry Send. Ok, now to wait.
I no longer work at the pizza place Baz replied in under a minute. Simon tried not to smile.
So sorry about that, how about I make it up to you? Come over He took a sip of vodka.
Fine, I'm making you dinner Hot.
Fine