Spierfeld Week

Alternative Meeting

SIMON

I don't know how I got myself talked into this. One minute, I was quietly enjoying graduation, the next, I was at Nick's house, completely lost, obnoxious music thumping in my ears and a cup of suspicious-smelling punch in my hand.

Leah's here, and Abby, but she and Nick are making out on a couch, so Leah and I are awkwardly standing in a corner, leaning against the wall.

"I'm pretty sure this punch is spiked," I tell Leah.

She fiddles with her cup, then set it on the end table next to me. I follow suit, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

" 'Sup, loserssssssssssssssssss," A loud voice slurs, and I close my eyes.

"Hello, Martin," Leah says politely.

"Whatcha doing in a corner, guys? Come join the party!" Martin exclaims.

"Oh, no, I don't think so..." Leah looks back at me helplessly as Martin grabs her wrist and pulls her into the fray. I manage to give a one-shouldered shrug before they vanish out of sight.

"Looks like you've hit the jackpot," a voice says to my left. I glance over and see someone I don't recognize. His hair is neatly fluffy on the top of his head and he has smooth brown skin. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all." I shift a little so he can squeeze into my quiet corner. He holds a red solo cup in one hand. "Careful, I think that's spiked," I warn him, and he chuckles quietly and nods.
"Seeing as I saw someone dump almost an entire bottle of tequila in the punch bowl earlier, I would agree," He says, setting his cup by Leah and I's.

"I'm Simon," I say.
The man smiles. "My name's Bram."

...

BRAM

Oh my god, he's amazing. I can't believe I'm actually talking to Simon Spier.

I haven't really spoken to him- I've seen him around Nick before, being totally adorable- aaaand he just did this awkward thing with his hands where he tried to finger-gun. He doesn't do it very well, but it's the most adorable thing I think I've ever seen. He's wearing his denim Sherpa jacket and a hoodie underneath that, and all I can think is: does he wear that all the time?

"Aren't you warm in that?" I ask. God, why did I ask that, obviously if he was he wouldn't be wearing it.

"Um, kind of?" He shoulders the Sherpa off and sets it next to our red solo cups filled with punch.

"I've been talking to you for barely a minute and I'm already making you strip," I joke, voicing my thoughts.

He blinks at me, looking both flustered and confused. What is wrong with me? I mentally scream.

"Hey, guys," Nick says, wrestling his way into Simon and I's little corner, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that had been steadily growing. 

"Nick. I see you finally managed to stop sucking Abby's face off," Simon says. I snort, and Simon looks at me appreciatively.

"Brought you oreos, Simon, I know you love them," Nick says, thrusting a package of oreos into Simon's hands. He stumbles back into the party without waiting for Simon's response. Simon peels open the package to reveal only a few oreos remaining.

I smile. Drunk Nick may not make much sense, but he means well. "At least I'll have some," Simon says, voice laced with amusement. He looks up at me suddenly. "Do you want any?" He suggests.

"Um, of course. Oreos are only the best thing to grace this planet," I say awkwardly, discreetly wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans.

"Really?" Simon says, but he doesn't sound dubious- he snaps his head up excitedly, so fast a few oreo crumbs fly out of his mouth.
"Yeah," I scoff. He grins.

"I totally agree," He declares, passing me an oreo. "They're the best candy."

"Especially the halloween ones," I add. He looks at me blankly, and I shrug. "For some reason, orange just makes them taste better."

He smiles, sending shocks through my nerves and straight through my fingertips. "I'll have to test that theory."