Milton : A BxB Story

13: Cracks in the Ice

Chapter Thirteen: Cracks in the Ice

"Hey."

Case startled so badly that he actually twitched, and his hand jerked against the bowl of flour, sending it over the edge of the counter. And onto the floor in an avalanche of powder.

But he knew the moment after his body reacted, that he didn't need to be nervous.

"Hi, Reese."

Case knelt down, immediately using his plastic scraper to push the flour back into the bowl. Reese was there in an instant, helping with his hands alone.

"Damn! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. It was so quiet in here, I totally thought you heard me knock on the door."

The door to the back alley opened a crack. Case liked the fresh air. Not that he was hoping for company. Sort of.

"I thought... I know you said you work here in the morning. But like...this is the butt crack of the day, right? I can't believe you get up this early every day! I feel like half my face isn't even attached or whatever. It's like some kind of torture to wake up before six."

The hockey captain took the silver bowl from Case, and held it over the garbage can in the corner, waiting for an okay to dump it. Case nodded quickly, finding the broom and sweeping up the rest of the mess.

"It is really early. I like it. It's quiet. If you don't, then.... why are you here? We see each other at school every day. We have three classes together."

Reese ran his hand through his ruddy brown hair, not realizing he streaked it with flour.

"Oh...well...ummm... so... I thought you.. .might... like some company."

Case approached the taller boy and gestured for him to bend down. Flushing pink, Reese closed his eyes and tilted his head. Licked his lips.

"Ummm..you...I'm just..." Case felt uncomfortable, pushing the other boy back a bit, and dusting the flour out of his hair. "You were just... I wasn't..."

"Oh."

Case winced internally, but didn't let it show on his face. Just tried to ignore the moment, getting out more flour on the long, immaculate counter.

"How did you get here?"

"Oh, well, so...I rode my old bike. It was nice to ride yours the other day. Like, I didn't remember how good it felt, riding a bike. You feel, really free. And...it was like...I felt young again. Like...like all of this shit I've been feeling lately just was gone and I was twelve and riding home from school. Or whatever. Probably sounds dumb, right?"

He came to lean on the counter, but moved a little away as Case bustled around getting out baking trays and lining them with silicone sheets.

"No, no it's not dumb. I love riding my bike too. I don't, well, at least right now, I'm not interested in learning how to drive. I'm sure I'll change my mind at some point. But right now, I'm happy with my bike."

"Cool."

A long stretch of silence, punctuated only by the barely heard twang of a guitar and Johnny Cash's deep, calm baritone voice. Case normally preferred a silent room while he baked, his mind completely at peace, focusing only on the springy feel of the dough, the smell of cinnamon or chocolate, but lately...

"So.... what are you... making today? Can I help?"

He looked so odd standing there. Tall, handsome, but clearly nervous. Wearing a Milton Vipers hoodie, jeans slightly ripped at the knee.