Simon was sitting on a park bench, eating a cherry scone and watching a video on his phone. He was laughing, crumbs falling out of his mouth as he chuckled. He was so amused by the video that he barely noticed when another person approached him.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" the boy asked.
Simon wiped his mouth, paused the video and looked up. In front of him was a handsome young man, roughly Simon's age. He was wearing sunglasses so Simon couldn't see his eyes, but he could sense that they were beautiful.
That's a weird thing to sense, Simon thought. He smiled at the boy and nodded. He didn't move.
"Excuse me, can I sit here?" He repeated.
Confused, Simon nodded his head again and stuttered, "Yeah, sure, sure, why not."
"Thank you," the boy said, taking a few steps forward and hesitantly sitting down. It was only then that Simon realized the red and white stick that the boy was holding in his right hand.
"Do you, uh, need any help?" Simon quickly blurted out.
The boy scoffed, carefully leaning the stick against the bench and sitting back. He searches through his backpack before pulling out a brown paper bag. He takes out a bagel from it and takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. Says, "I'm quite alright on my own, thanks."
Simon is a little offended, but tries not to show it. "No problem." He puts his earbuds back in and clicks play on the video, finishing it. With one last laugh he puts his phone away.
"Funny video?"
"Uh, yeah, how'd you-"
"Your volumes turned up pretty high."
Simon makes an uncomfortable face but realizes the man can't see it. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm done watching now."
The boy takes another bite of his bagel. Wipes his mouth cleanly with a napkin.
Simon looks away, embarrassed for staring but thankful the boy couldn't see it. He takes out a book - one for school, a biography he has to read for his literature class - and starts to read. He still has 86 pages left and the report is due in 2 days. Simon's not the best when it comes to time management.
The boy clears his throat, finished with his bagel. "What are you reading?"
"Huh?"
"Your book? What's it called?" The boy smirks, turning his head in a condescending way to face Simon.
Simon wonders how he knew he was reading and opens his mouth in confusion, but the other boy is ahead of him. "The pages. I can hear them flipping."
Oh. Duh. Simon feels like an idiot - a judgemental, ignorant idiot. He starts to apologize but the boy holds a hand up. "Don't apologize. Just tell me the title of the book."
"Well, um, it's uh, a biography by this psychologist-"
"You like psychology?"
"No, not at all," Simon laughs. The idea is preposterous. "But it's required reading for one of my classes."
"Oh, I see," the boy smiles. "So you're a college student, then?"
"Uh, yeah. A senior actually," Simon says shyly. He's confused as to why the boy is so interested in him. "You?" he asks, though he's not sure he cares.
"Im a photographer."
Simon gawks. "Wait what?"
The other boy laughs, his teeth spreading wide, sparkling. "I'm just fucking with you. Now that'd be ridiculous," he smiles. "No, I'm actually a musician."
"Really? What do you play?"
"The violin," he says, raising his eyebrows so that they arch over the rim of his sunglasses. "I work with the city orchestra."
"That's really cool," Simon says, unable to keep himself from laughing a little bit.
"Yeah, laugh now but then cry later when you see my paycheck," he sneers.
"Sorry I didn't mean to laugh. I just wasn't expecting that answer," Simon apologizes, his cheeks red.
"Yeah, well . . ."
The two boys sit in silence for a while, just absorbing the park. Simon watches the boy carefully, studying him. His face. His hair. The way his lips looked.
"What's your name by the way? I'm Simon," he said, holding his hand out, though he wasn't sure if the boy would instinctively hold out his hand as well. "Simon Snow."
"Nice to meet you, Simon," the boy says, smiling. He takes off his sunglasses to review two startling bright eyes. They're glossed over, unfocused, but still beautiful. "You can call me Baz."