Blizzard Boy ✓

II

"You can't blame gravity
for falling in love."
–Albert Einstein

• • • • • • •

The barista paces the floor. His mouth is set in a taut line, clearly stressed at our situation.

I'm still seated at that little table, uncomfortably sipping my hot chocolate while pretending to be interested in a display of coffee mugs. Really, I'm worrying about his state. He's been silent ever since we realized how isolated we are, and despite us meeting only a couple minutes ago, I feel like I should help him.

I mean, I understand that it's a pain being stuck in a coffee shop with some random girl – especially me – but what's the worse that can happen?

"So..." I begin, trailing off.

"Does your phone work?" Miles turns to me, slightly hopeful. "Maybe you have connection."

Embarrassment creeps up my throat. "Sorry," I say apologetically. "I don't have a phone."

"You don't have a phone?" He stares at me as if I'm an alien. "How do you survive?"

"I don't know," I say, forcing a laugh. Phones are too expensive, and I'm not popular enough to need one in the first place. This has been my first interaction with a human being in weeks; I keep to myself at school and my parents don't bother checking in on me.

We used to be the family-of-the-year. I was the nerd and Mom and Dad were the "cool parents" who spent more time in the Bahamas and Brazil than with us. When I had my first boyfriend, they practically exploded with pride. Not only did Quin prevent my social life from becoming a living hell, but also, he prevented my parents from looking like recluses, too. I think they appreciated the attention more than I did.

Of course, being the jock that he was, Quin did everything to maintain his status. If that meant pushing me away, so be it. Whereas we were at one point inseparable, he grew to appreciate parties, girls, and drinking more than his girlfriend. Eventually I stopped trying to get through to him in public, instead focusing on academics. We were still a couple, but only in secret.

That is, until the party. Until the worst mistake of my life.

"Sucks that we're stuck here," says Miles, a frown on his face, "but now that I think about it, I don't even know your name."

"Astrid," I tell him carefully. Quin's death swept around like a wildfire, so I won't tell him my surname – if he recognizes it, he'll start giving his condolences – or sneers – and that's exactly what I don't want.

"Astrid," he repeats. The corners of his mouth rise a bit. "That's cute. Different."

I blush.

"That's cute, too," he smirks, gesturing toward my cheeks.

I'm about to reply when there's another boom of thunder; this time, it's so magnified that it literally shakes the ceiling. At the same instant, the lights overhead spark before shutting off, submerging us both in complete darkness. Everything is pitch black.

Blindly, I look around, but there are no more light sources. Even the streetlamps outside are no longer discernible.

Panic jolts through my body. What if this storm is really bad – bad enough that we won't escape for several more days? What if we're stuck in here until after Christmas? Without power, we won't have any heat source, which means we could freeze to death... not to mention starve from a lack of food. Who knows how many pastries are in stock? They could've run out earlier today.