Annabel's POV
We didn't speak for a little while as we sat, bundled up in a booth at the burrito shop, happily stuffing our faces and chugging coffees. Pausing once and a while only to rub our hands in an effort to warm numb fingers, I had to marvel at myself; after a life in New York I was feeling the chill of a West Coast winter.
"Why did you sleep on a bench the night of the party?"
I looked up at the question. Billie was considering me curiously, however there still seemed to be an air of caution in his voice, as if he wouldn't want me to begin a topic that was too heavy for breakfast-burrito conversation.
"How did you know about that?" I asked, and we both heard the edge in my tone.
"Mike. He told me about when he saw you in the coffee shop. What happened the night of the party?"
I made the decision to answer. I was so tired of not answering questions. I didn't look at him as I spoke though.
"Well, when I got home Jeremy basically threw a fit. He said I couldn't go out late anymore. Mom... usually she would either be frozen like a statue in the corner or mildly trying to calm him down but that night she was just crying. Crying and crying like I had only seen once before; when Dad died."
Billie shifted, his eyebrows furrowing and his lip pouting as if in thought. Fuck, why was I staring at his lips?
"Anyway, Jeremy, he hugged me then. He fucking hugged me. I thought I was tripping out or some shit. And then he told me about Cassie..."
Something caught in my throat but I refused to cry. I was done with all that.
"...and I ran out, and I sat and looked at the sky and fell asleep in the park."
Hurriedly I took a large bite out of my burrito, hoping that it would perhaps delay further depressing anecdotes spouting out of me.
"I'm...I'm really sorry Annabel."
I looked at him then. His eyes were bright with some silent sentiment, and I felt his hand reach to clasp over mine. It felt nice, in fact it felt too nice, so in the long-awaited The Inept James Bond Part 3: What Is This Strange New Feeling And How Can I Escape From it (which not only prompted scathing reviews but also an inquiry into whether Annabel Winters was literally 9 years old or just a fucking idiot) I removed my hand suddenly, perhaps reacting to how my heart just did something very abnormal and how my brain suddenly lost all capacity to function, and in my haste I knocked over my coffee, spilling the dark liquid onto the table.
I buried my face in my hands, questioning how I continue to be such a fuckwit when I heard Billie laugh. It was a husky, but ultimately distinctly teenage-boy laugh, and man when in the right context those kinda laughs are comforting.
"Shit, you're a bit unpredictable y'know?" I cracked a smile at the sight of his grin, his crooked tooth and vibrant emerald spheres.
"Like to keep them guessing I suppose." I giggled (since when do I giggle?) and began to mop up the mess with some napkins. He joined in my effort, still smiling to himself.
"Just don't have a heart attack every time I touch you..."
I gulped, feeling a bizarre warmth in my face at his words, and I had no idea why. He pretended not to notice but I could feel his smile broadening.
"Seriously, if that's what happens if I touch your hand..."
I must have been illuminating the hue of Rudolph's nose because he chuckled, wiping the excess coffee on his jeans and smirking at me. I scowled, but he was quick to see through it.
