Blizzard Boy ✓

IX

"If you tell the truth, you don't
have to remember anything."
–Mark Twain

• • • • • • •

"And how long were you trapped for?" The reporter asks, flashing us a smile with the microphone extended.

"Uh," I exchange glances with Miles. "A couple of days. Only for the endurance of the storm."

"Awesome. And how did you treat each other? What did you do to keep yourselves occupied?"

I look at him again and mouth the word help. He cracks a smile and explains briefly, leaving out all the kissing. "We played with coffee cups, talked, and cleaned. Stuff like that."

"Wonderful!" She beams, scribbling stuff on her notepad. "Lovely. That'll be enough today."

The firefighters managed to pull us out with harnesses, and the amount of attention over such a silly thing is overwhelming. They practically interrogated us before providing blankets and snacks.

Miles halts the reporter before she scurries away. "Hey, can I use you phone? Mine lost connection. It must've lost battery, too."

"Absolutely."

I turn away as Miles makes his call, frustration churning in my stomach. My parents are by no means abusive; they're kind people, but negligence is one of their proclaimed lifestyles. Calling them would only ring up their answering machine. Even if his lifestyle isn't perfect, Miles is lucky.

Three feet of snow and ice block the doors to Sips & Sweets. In the distance, snowplows work on the main road, scooping it from the center and piling it to the sides. The pushed snow forms walls alongside the curb, turning New York into an icy kingdom. It's beautiful, yet my heart pains when I think of stray pets. They've been left to freeze in the cold, just like I would've been if I hadn't found the café.

My shirt is dry, but it remains plastered to my body. I was probably on the local news and my hair is an absolute mess. Not that you care, my conscience reminds me. You don't worry about trivial things, right?

Wrong. My worries are extremely trivial, considering they only dance around one person.

Miles.

I think about the way his lips felt against mine. I think about his hands on my waist. I think about his laugh, and most of all, I think about his secret. What's preventing him from going to college, from leaping into a relationship, from doing anything besides working and surviving?

I'm shaken from my thoughts as Miles begins to run in my direction. He arrives at my side, grabs my shoulders, and kisses me.

There's nothing but absolute shock. I could understand it in the heat of the moment, away from the world's prying eyes, but here, now?

Fortunately, the reporters don't notice anything. That would have been a good story. Two strangers, trapped in a coffee shop during one of New York's worst blizzard, fall in love. It'd surely make the headlines.

When he notices my surprise, Miles breaks away, blushing profusely. His red cheeks infect my own. "Sorry."

My tone is incredulous. "Here? Now?"