Page 79 of Severance

My heart sinks to my stomach.He’s only telling me this now?“Do you want to grab some food?”

There’s a long pause, the purpose of which I don’t understand. Is this his way of telling me we need more time apart? Am I too naive to see that what happened between us was just drunk, mindless sex?

“Not like a date or anything…” I say. My voice drops to a whisper.

“Sure.”

“Do you want to meet at Patty’s?” As soon as I say the words, I almost want to take them back. That’s where Dakota and I went to eat on our first date, and asking Mikah to meet me there feels a lot like cheating.

“That’s fine,” he mutters. “I’ll meet you there at nine.”

“Okay. See you at nine.”

* * *

The tiny part of me that’s still upset at Mikah for not telling me earlier that he was back in Portland expects him to blow off dinner at Patty’s, but he’s already there when I arrive at quarter to nine.

I recognize the lines of his silhouette through the glimmering glass as I make my way toward the entrance. He’s staring at nothing in particular and he seems at ease. Just another guy grabbing some food. You wouldn’t think that three months ago, he was one of the seven hundred people gunned down in a Portland nightclub by a jealous psycho. No, scratch that. A psycho gets to slide on an insanity plea. Joseph Miller isn’t allowed to be mentally ill.

The view of the crowd packing the diner sends shivers down my spine, and I have to stop briefly to calm my stupid heart. Campus has become easier, although I’ve been finding myself tuning out during classes lately, and places I haven’t been to since before the attack still make me nervous.People make me nervous.

Everyone is a potential shooter and there’s no way of knowing otherwise. Any place, any time.

There’s a brilliant idea forming inside my head as I evaluate the faces of the patrons. Maybe installing metal detectors can eliminate the possibility of someone sneaking a gun into Patty’s?

After a few seconds of sifting through my racing thoughts, I walk into the diner and make my way to the far side where Mikah’s sitting, away from the clatter surrounding the checkout area.

“Hey,” he mutters as I slide onto the bench across from him.

“Hey.” My chest expands from the sudden onslaught of emotions. I’m uncomfortable, confused, and a bit scared because I don’t know how to look at Mikah anymore without imagining him naked and doing all sorts of dirty things to me. It might have something to do with the fact that I don’t fully regret it. Guilt plagues me, but I don’t have the need to undo what we’ve done. Truth is, I liked it. Being with Mikah made me feel alive.

Our eyes meet and his penetrating gaze holds mine for what seems like an eternity.

I never really thought of it until right now, but the way you see a man after you have sex with him is always different from how you see him if he’s a friend. This change of perception with Dakota was gradual but effortless because I always knew I wanted more than a platonic relationship with him. After our first time, being with him felt simply like adding a little something to the already existing palette of what he was.

With Mikah, it’s nothing like that. It’s like being on a ship in the middle of the ocean and coming across an iceberg. Only a small fraction of him is on the surface, and seeing the rest is only possible if you jump. Dive into the freezing cold water and die a slow excruciating death while observing all of the beauty that’s hidden away.

That’s what looking at Mikah feels like at the moment, and I’m terrified that eventually this will hurt even more than it’s been hurting since the night we let ourselves loose.

“How was Seattle?” I ask, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser so that I can occupy my hands with something. I wonder if he’s seen the Wikipedia page. Jess told me Blaze and Luke were the ones who made it.

“It was okay.” Mikah shrugs, sticking his fork into the pile of mashed potatoes on his plate. “How’s college?”

“My finals are starting next week.” I shift on the bench restlessly. I can’t keep my eyes off of him, and the bad thing is that they might be looking for some sort of a hint that our sex wasn’t just a drunken incident.I don’t want it to be, and that terrifies me.

Mikah stares right back. His gaze holds mine like a dynamic rope would hold a mountain climber. “Break a leg.”

“Thanks.” I flip the napkin and fold it in half. “I’m going to be working at the bakery again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m actually pretty excited. The owner liked some of my ideas.”

“That’s good.”

Then there’s an awkward pause and I’m grasping at straws, trying to think of anything to keep the conversation afloat.

“Did you readThe Witching Hour?”

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