Tomorrow's Holding On to Another Day Part III
Masterpost
Previous Part
Sunlight was pouring in through the lace curtains, and there were birds chirping outside, but the peace of the morning was interrupted by a brief burst of static and then crackly music: never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna--
Cook didn't even spare a moment to scowl at the rooster alarm clock this morning. In a movement that had become entirely practiced with repetition, he flung an arm out and landed it exactly on the 'off' switch.
Today was the day.
Today was the day he was going to finally manage to kiss David.
Something had gone wrong every time he'd tried over the past few days, but not today. Because today he had a plan. Today he had an awesome plan. Today he had a perfect, romantic, foolproof plan.
It was so simple, too. Every night, the Ferris wheel froze at 9:34 PM. He'd seen it happen countless times at this point. And what could be more romantic than being on the top of the world, looking down at the lights of the carnival? Nothing, that's what. It was cliché levels of perfect, and Cook was pretty sure that David didn't have a problem with clichés.
***
Cook glanced impatiently at his phone. The server at the restaurant he and David were at was slow. If he hadn't been one hundred percent certain that it would put David off, he might even have snapped at him. Actually, to be fair, it wasn't really the server who was to blame. The restaurant was packed, and seemed short-staffed. And it wasn't his fault that Cook had a very urgent need to get David out of here and back to the fair, like, yesterday.
Knowing these things did nothing to make Cook less antsy. Across from him, David was gesticulating wildly as he talked about how much he loved Christmas, without a care in the world. It was actually really cute, and under normal circumstances, Cook would have been caught up just in watching the animated way he spoke. But tonight he had a mission, one that hinged on them getting out of this restaurant in the next two minutes.
Finally, the server brought back Cook's credit card. Cook didn't even wait to hear his apologies, springing up from his seat.
"Not at all, don't worry about it," he blurted, and tried to get David to put on his jacket faster by sheer force of will.
"Are you okay, Cook?" David laughed breathlessly as Cook speed-walked along the sidewalk, pulling David along by the hand.
"Of course!" Cook said distractedly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, you just seem like you're in a hurry."
Cook forced himself to slow down a little, and he smiled back at David. "I just want to get back to the fair! There's so much we didn't get a chance to do yet!"
David hummed agreeably, and swung their arms a little.
"We have to go on the Ferris wheel first," Cook said as they got nearer. He glanced at his phone. Six minutes. It was going to be tight. "I love Ferris wheels. And now that it's dark, it'll be perfect."
"Whatever you want, Cook."
In the nick of time, they arrived at the Ferris wheel. They'd made it, with a full minute to spare. Cook celebrated inwardly, until he caught sight of the line, and drooped. There was no way they'd make it through a line that long in a minute.
Just as he had that thought, the Ferris wheel groaned to a stop.
"Oh, wow, I think the Ferris wheel is stuck!" David said, giggling. "That's unfortunate! It's a good thing we didn't get here, like two minutes earlier or we’d be up there!"
Cook resisted the urge to bang his head against the halted Ferris wheel.
"Yeah," he said grumpily.
Today, Cook decided, was definitely the day. They'd finished off dinner with plenty of time to spare, and now they were back to wandering around the fairgrounds. The fair was beautiful at night. Cook hadn't really appreciated it before; he'd always been caught up with not wanting to be there, or, as in yesterday's case, worrying about something like orchestrating the perfect top-of-the-Ferris-wheel kiss.
Today, he felt much more relaxed (even though he was definitely still planning on orchestrating the perfect top-of-the-Ferris-wheel kiss). It was a beautiful night, he was with David, and he had a really good feeling about tonight. He bought freshly roasted peanuts for them to share as he waited for the right moment to suggest they get on the Ferris wheel.
In the meantime, he regaled David with stories about he and the guys, and their crazy antics. As he finished telling the story about how Andy and Neal had compiled an EP for him and sent it off to a record company without his knowledge, he decided that now was the perfect time to get in line.
"They sound great," David said, smiling warmly. "Really awesome friends you can depend on."
"They really are," Cook said. "Hey, do you want to go ride the Ferris wheel? I bet the fair looks absolutely gorgeous from up there right now."
David agreed readily enough, and they were soon in line. David was telling him a story now, about how it had been his greatest ambition in high school to get on American Idol.
Cook laughed, because, well, American Idol, but said, "You totally would have won!"
"Oh, no," David started, shaking his head, but Cook insisted.
"Are you kidding? You’ve got a great voice!"
"You’ve never even heard me sing!" David protested.
Oh shit. Cook thought fast. "You were singing to yourself earlier, when we were walking. A Christmas carol. It was pretty quiet, but I could hear."
David did that all the time, so he knew it was totally plausible. Sure enough, David didn’t even bat an eye. "Oh my gosh, why didn’t you stop me?"
"Because I wanted to hear you! Your voice is unreal."
David fumbled with his scarf, and Cook was pretty sure that if it wasn't dark, he would see that David's face was bright red.
"Well, I wouldn't win," David said after a couple moments, his voice suddenly teasing. "You would totally beat me."
"Me on American Idol?" Cook asked with a laugh.
"Hey!" David said, but he was giggling too. "Don't insult America's number one reality TV show!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Cook said solemnly. "But I still think you would beat me."
David gave him what he was pretty sure was an incredulous look. "Yeah, right, I-"
Just then, they both heard a loud shout. "DAAAVE!"
Cook winced as Andy and Kyle materialized out of nowhere.
"Are you riding the Ferris wheel?" Kyle asked excitedly, bouncing on his heels the way he did when he'd been drinking. Andy gave Cook a look that was simultaneously exasperated and fond, which read, You know how he gets.
"I wanna come!" Kyle turned to David. "Hi, David! Ferris wheels are so great!"
David laughed. "They certainly are! Why don't you come with us?"
No.
"Really?" Kyle said. "Ferris wheels are so great!"
David was giggling at him, and under normal circumstances, Cook definitely would have been amused. But seriously? They were minutes from the entrance. Couldn't Kyle and Andy have waited just a tiny bit before deciding to come crash his sort-of-date?
"Can I come, Dave? Can I? I want to ride with you, can I? We can ride together!"
Cook gave Andy a pained look. Andy looked sympathetic, but also amused. He just shrugged helplessly. So although Cook was sorely tempted to say no, he had no choice but to say, "Of course you can, Peekaboo."
Kyle reached out and hugged Cook. "You are so great. Like a Ferris wheel." He turned to David. "This guy is so great, did you know that? Dave is like the best friend ever."
David locked eyes with Cook. "He is pretty great, isn't he?"
Cook was relieved to see that David didn't seem to mind being ditched, or his friend's drunken shenanigans.
They were next in line, so Cook helped Kyle into his seat, and waved at Andy and David.
Well, there was always tomorrow.
Cook didn't want to jinx himself, but today was definitely the day. David was happy and agreeable as always, and their dinner date had gone quite well. They were already in line for the Ferris wheel, and he'd confirmed via text that the rest of the band was still at the bar.
Today, nothing was going to interfere with his plan to kiss David.
As the minutes ticked by, Cook leaned against the railing and listened to David's description of his siblings. He already knew most of what David was telling him, of course, but there was the occasional tidbit of new information. And anyway, it was great just watching David talk, with his excited tone, and variable expressions, and flailing hands. Cook didn't understand how one person could be this adorable.
"Next!"
The ticket conductor called, and David handed over their tickets, holding his breath. Then, before he knew it, they were taking their seats. Success! They were on the Ferris wheel at the right time without any unforeseen circumstances getting in the way.
Their conversation dwindled as the Ferris wheel started to move, and they both became occupied with looking at the view.
"It's like a winter wonderland," Cook said, and right on cue, David started to sing under his breath.
Cook wondered if he'd ever get tired of hearing David sing, or even listening to him talk or looking at his face. Somehow, he didn't think so.
"Oh, gosh, sorry," David said, as he caught himself.
"Don't apologize," Cook admonished. "Your voice is beautiful."
David's cheeks reddened a little. "Thanks."
They were almost at the top now. Cook's heart was thundering in his chest, and his hands were sweating, and since when had he been so nervous about kissing someone?
He wanted to reach out and grab David's hand, but he felt frozen, like his body wasn't even under his control.
Then, they were at the top, and the Ferris wheel was screeching to a stop, and Cook couldn't breathe, he was so nervous.
Next to him, David was as oblivious as ever, leaning forward to get a better view of the fair. "Gosh, it's beautiful! Look at all the lights! Oh, you can see the giant Christmas tree at the hospital from here! Isn't it nice, Cook?"
"Amazing," Cook managed. And it was, but Cook couldn't tear his eyes away from David.
"Hey, why aren't we moving?" David peered over the side of the car.
"Oh my gosh, Cook, I think the Ferris wheel's stuck!" David turned back around to face him, laughing.
Do it, Cook coached himself.
"Cook, are you okay? Oh my heck, you're not afraid of heights, are you?"
Cook shook his head jerkily. "No, I - I just."
David waited, and shifted a little closer, still looking worried. "You just what?"
"I," Cook said faintly. Do it now, what are you waiting for, you idiot?
There were flurries floating in the air around them, and David was gorgeous with his scarf tucked into his coat, and Cook had never liked someone this much.
Kiss him.
Cook shifted forward a little, his stomach clenched. He just had to do it.
But David made him so nervous that he couldn't even move.
And then, there was a little jolt, and they started to move again, and all Cook could think was that he'd missed his chance.
His anxiety disappeared, replaced by annoyance at himself. David was still looking at him worriedly, like he thought Cook was losing it or something, so Cook smiled at him weakly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what happened."
"It's okay," David assured him, looking relieved that Cook had recovered the ability to speak. "Sometimes you don't think something's going to scare you, but then you get in a situation, and suddenly you're too terrified to move."
Which, Cook thought to himself grumpily, was exactly what had happened, only not about heights.
As they walked off the ride, Cook felt like kicking himself. He couldn't believe that he'd had the perfect chance, and had chickened out. This was hopeless.
Still sort of put out from the previous day's failure, Cook hadn't been planning on trying so hard with David today. But as it turned out, he didn't really want to do anything but spend the day with David. Without a set goal in mind, he was more relaxed than he'd been in a while, just enjoying David's company.
When the Ferris wheel stopped, they were on the opposite side of the fair, over by the giant bonfire, roasting marshmallows and drinking hot apple cider (really, there were only so many days in a row that you could drink hot chocolate before you got a little sick of it). David had just finished telling Cook about singing in school talent shows and at church.
"C'mon," Cook wheedled. "Sing me something."
"Oh, no, I couldn't," David said, laughing.
"Sure you can!"
"I'm not very good!" David insisted.
Cook gave him a look, before remembering that David didn't know that he knew better. "I'm sure you are. C'mon, please?"
David huffed, but closed his eyes and sang, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, and folks dressed up like eskimos."
Cook watched, a little bit mesmerized, as David kept singing. God, he was amazing.
When David finally trailed off and opened his eyes, his cheeks were already pink. "You're incredible," Cook said quietly, and before he could even think about it, he leaned in close and brushed his lips against David's.
He pulled back after only a second or two, his pulse thrumming in his ears. David just sat there, looking shocked. Cook was about to panic, but before he could, David curled his hand around Cook's and moved forward to kiss him back. He tasted like spiced apple cider, and his nose was cold, and Cook wanted nothing more than to kiss him forever.
It seemed that Murray did have at least one fine dining restaurant. Or at least a restaurant nice enough to take a date that wasn’t crowded out by families with screaming kids and had cloth napkins on the table. He’d had a very successful day with David, and so when the show (which had been amazing) was over and he came off stage to a beaming David, he immediately asked him if he wanted to go to dinner. Though the latter seemed a bit surprised (Cook sometimes had to be reminded that David had only known him for one day), he kindly accepted and was happy to suggest a place.
After ordering drinks, David began to gush about how wonderful the show had been.
"It was so good," David said, sipping the glass of water he’d been brought. "I mean, I’m familiar with your music, I think I told you before? But yesterday I got the feeling you were not in a very good mood, so..."
Cook held his tongue a second before saying, "I was a jerk yesterday. I’m sure you thought you’d made a horrible mistake booking us. I’m really sorry about that."
David smiled and said, "Well, I’m glad now that I did. The audience was going bananas the entire time. Great job."
Cook had to admit that felt good to hear, even though he’d heard various versions of it before.
"Well, thank you, I really -"
The loud noise of his ringing phone beside him cut him off and startled him at the same time. Picking it up, he saw that Andy was trying to call. He knew the guys had been talking about going to get a drink somewhere after the show, and he’d basically deserted them. But he’d told them he was going to dinner with David (albeit very quickly and in like five words), so he pushed the ‘ignore’ button and set it back down on the table.
"Sorry about that," he apologized.
"You can answer it if you want," David offered. "I won’t be offended if it’s important."
"Nah," Cook replied, taking a drink from his water glass as well. "Man, I’m starving, I hope that waiter comes back soon because I might just eat this napkin soon."
The rest of dinner went swimmingly, and David even make Cook laugh uncontrollably a few times, which only made Cook’s feelings grow more intensely than ever before. They shared a few stories, and both their meals went cold over a lengthy discussion about classic rock versus modern bands.
As David poked at his pasta and continued on a tangent about female singer-songwriter pianists he liked, Cook gazed across the table at him, seriously contemplating his next move. He’d exhausted the catalog of his so-far gathered knowledge and although this was when he’d usually just ask David a blunt, possibly embarrassing question to get to the next necessary factoid, he found himself holding back a moment. This night had gone by astonishingly well. Like so well that it didn’t feel like some kind of game to conquer anymore, but more like… well, to be honest he didn’t know what like. He’d never actually had feelings like these before.
"What’re you thinking about?" David asked, bringing Cook out of his thoughts. He brought his straw to his mouth and chewed on it a little. Damn, he somehow managed to make that sexy.
"Nothing," Cook answered automatically. "I was just… nothing."
"You seemed awfully concentrated on nothing then," David remarked, letting the straw fall back into his glass. "You know, your eyebrows angle in when you’re thinking. It’s cute."
Cook didn’t know what he should say to that. People didn’t usually make comments about how cute he was. Like maybe some girls had screamed he had a sexy ass or something from time to time, but he couldn’t recall any comments about his adorableness ever being mentioned.
"Oh, I… thanks?"
His phone rang obnoxiously yet again, and this time he nearly threw it down on the table in annoyance. Again Andy Skib scrolled across the screen and for the first time in living memory Cook felt really agitated with his best friend. Of all the nights that had ever existed, Andy chose this night - this perfect, lovely night - to become the neediest friend on the planet. He punched the ‘ignore’ button and then flipped the ringer switch on the side.
"I’m turning it off for real this time," Cook said, shoving the phone back into his pocket. "Sorry about that."
"It’s okay," David replied, genuinely forgiving. He would be, of course. "People are calling me all the time too, especially now that we’ve finally arrived at the festival date. Geez, I think my phone battery gives out by nine in the morning anymore."
Cook laughed and leaned back in his seat just as two short vibrations tickled his thigh. Luckily, ignoring voicemail was one of his super powers.
For the next forty-five minutes, David offered up stories about his family and friends without Cook even asking. The usual tactic of pressing for information had left Cook’s thoughts as he happily watched David tell a story about his brother, grinning and gesturing unnecessarily the entire time. The tale got lost on Cook about halfway through as he gazed at David’s face, but the latter didn’t seem to notice. The waiter returned to refill their water glasses and offer the dessert menu.
"Oh gosh," David breathed, sinking in his chair a little. "I don’t know if I could eat another bite of anything."
Cook eyed the dessert menu and chewed his bottom lip. "Come on," he said. "Share some crème brulée with me." He flashed a smile that David seemed to not be able to refuse.
"Oh, okay," he relented. "But if I explode or can’t fit into my jeans tomorrow, it’s all on you."
"I take full responsibility," Cook chuckled, and handed the menu back to the waiter. "One crème brulée and two spoons, please."
The waiter whisked away and a moment later David took the opportunity to excuse himself to the men’s room. Cook gazed at him as he walked across the entire restaurant, thinking about how maybe this was his Beauty and the Beast moment. He’d taken to considering his ordeal as something of a classic fairy tale lately, and that maybe this was the kind of thing where if he just did everything exactly right and made his true love fall for him or whatever that the spell would be broken. He could wake up to a real tomorrow and maybe even have David as well. Yes, this had to be the night that would actually end, where everything that happened would carry on to tomorrow and never be erased.
For about the millionth time, Cook’s buzzing phone distracted him from his fantasies, and because David had now left his sight, he went ahead and grabbed it out of his pocket, ready to tell Andy off once and for all.
Kyle Peek flashed up at him instead, urgent and bright.
"Hey, Peekaboo," Cook answered, using the silly nickname the band had given its drummer. He might have been a bit annoyed with Andy not getting the picture that he was busy, but it was always difficult to be sour with Kyle, no matter how crazy the kid could be sometimes.
"Dave, where have you been?"
Cook’s face instantly fell. Kyle did not sound like his usually cheerful self, and in fact had a grave, anxious tone. Cook sat up straighter in his seat, trying to ignore the noisy restaurant in order to hear his friend.
"I’m... I’m at dinner with David," Cook explained. "What’s wrong?"
"After you left we all went out for drinks," Kyle replied, his voice wavering slightly. "And I don’t exactly remember, honestly, how we all got split up. Like Monty and Neal went off to talk to some girls and I had gone back to the hotel because I was tired... I guess Andy opted to stay at the bar, you know? And like... oh, God, Dave..."
Kyle trailed, and Cook felt his heart jump into his throat. "Kyle, what happened?"
"The bartender offered to call him a cab, Dave, he swears it, but..."
"Jesus, Kyle, get to the fucking point already!" Cook snapped unfairly. He did not do well with this sort of anticipation at all.
Cook could hear Kyle make a strange, throaty noise before he continued. "We think he realized he was drunk, and tried to call us. His phone had a few calls to each of us, but I’d gone to sleep and turned my phone off - Monty and Neal were still somewhere in the bar but it was so noisy they couldn’t hear... There were like a dozen calls to you after that... He wandered out into the street then, and the bartender was calling him a cab, but it didn’t come soon enough. A guy who saw the whole thing says Andy stumbled into the street, and he crossed against a red light. The car coming through the intersection couldn’t stop fast enough on the icy road and..."
Cook didn’t hear the rest of Kyle’s story, but he could pretty much put the pieces together from there. His phone slid in his palm as he gazed unblinkingly in front of him.
"Everything okay?"
Cook almost jumped out of his skin at the touch on his shoulder. David had returned and was peering down at him, eyes filled with worry.
"I have to go," he explained quietly. "Andy’s been in an accident."
***
Cook slumped down in the single chair provided in Andy’s room. Hospitals really freaked him out, and this one was no different. The stark coldness of plain white sheets and sanitized machinery only added to the chill that hadn’t left his bones ever since he’d set foot in this godforsaken state. Sighing, he glanced up at Andy, whose eyes were still gently closed. It sucked seeing his best friend like this. Totally sucked.
He’d been gazing at Andy and thinking about how this had been entirely his fault when his phone buzzed in his clutched hand. David Archuleta flashed on the screen followed by the symbol denoting a text message.
How’s your friend? it read.
Stable Cook tapped out.
I’m so sorry. came the response.
It’s not your fault. Cook reasoned.
I’m saying a prayer for him.
Thanks.
Cook closed the message folder, only to be reminded in angry red numbers that he had a dozen voice messages to listen to. Hovering his thumb over the alert, he contemplated just deleting them all at once. Instead he opened the folder to find Andy’s name filling up the list. He punched the first one and braced himself.
Hey, Dave, I don’t know where you are right now, but you should come join us at the Huddle Sports Bar… It’s like… Neal, where are we? Well, no kidding, dumbass, I mean what street? You’re useless, man. Dave, just look it up on your phone, it’s not far from the park… Come find us.
Sighing, Cook deleted the message, which then prompted the next message to start playing.
…Okay, you’re not gonna believe it, but this place has like 300 beers on tap, dude. I’m not even lying. Like imports from every place you can even imagine. Tiemann’s up to Germany, so I think you’d better get here before he tries to invade Hungary…
… Dave, it’s 8:30. Seriously, where are you? I know you can’t be at any other bar, we’ve found the only one...
… Hey, Dave, it’s Andy. I, uh… Kyle went to bed ages ago and Monty and Neal have disappeared on me so… so if you get this I might need a ride home soon because, yeah, I’ve been drinking like a champ… Um, call me, bro…
… Dave. Daaaavid Coooook. Heh, your name sounds funny when you say it like that, don’t you think? Try it. Cooooook. Anyway, I’ve looked for the guys but I think they’re gone. I looked outside. I mean, I’m outside now. And like, it’s snowing. It’s snowing! Snooooow. It feels funny on my face. But I forgot which way it is to the hotel place and uh… can you help me? I mean, I can probably find it - whoa, the sidewalk is slippery, Dave, be careful when you get here… It’s a little icy…
Cook threw his phone down onto the edge of Andy’s bed and sunk his face into his palms. Feeling like he could vomit at any moment, he reminded himself of what a horrible friend he’d been. A selfish, goddamned horrible friend. Andy had needed him, had even done the most responsible thing and admitted his inability to find his way home safely, had decided to call on his best friend to come help him out. And Cook had just ignored it. Ignored it just so he could look at David Archuleta’s face for two more seconds. What a jerk he’d been. Because what part of a friend calling repeatedly didn’t send up the red flag that something might be wrong? Why had he been annoyed rather than concerned? Maybe this whole thing was starting to get way out of hand, skewing his priorities even further into left field than they’d ever been before.
Rubbing his forehead, Cook glanced up at the clock, which now read 10:45. At least he’d only have to endure this agony for another hour or so. That is unless this was it. He didn’t always think about it, but now and again the realization that he might suddenly be thrust back out of this time loop at any given moment crossed his mind. Thrust out and stuck with whatever consequences he’d managed in the last twenty-four hours. He looked at Andy, lying there as still as stone and then back at his own hands.
He decided it probably wouldn’t hurt to send up a prayer of his own.
Sunlight was pouring in through the lace curtains, and there were birds chirping outside, but the peace of the morning was interrupted by a brief burst of static and then crackly music: never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna--
Cook smacked the off button efficiently, letting his arm drop limply across his chest. He didn’t get up right away, but rather stared at the ceiling a couple minutes. The day before had been almost too heavy to handle, and he considered not getting out of bed ever again. In the end, however, he sighed, knowing that David would be downstairs waiting for him again, fresh and oblivious and wearing that blue and gray sweater vest that brought out his eyes.
Though as he got up and reluctantly put on clothes and washed his face, his thoughts were really more with the band. The motley crew half made up of old friends and half made up of new curiosities that fit in perfectly. And Andy, this man who he’d known the longest, jammed with the most, written the most songs with, and who sat patiently by on the piano while Cook took all the glory for songs that really only worked because Andy had injected them with his quiet, revolutionary talent. If he was completely honest with himself, Cook owed everything he had to Andy Skib.
Because he’d opted out of the shower that always made him a half an hour late, Cook arrived downstairs in the dining area the earliest he’d ever been to date. Coming around the last corner from the stairwell, he let out an enormous sigh of relief as he saw the band only just sitting down at the table David had held for them. Andy was joking with Neal, smiling, and had no visible scrapes or bruises. Thank God. David himself looked up to Cook as he approached and flashed his thousand watt smile.
"Good morning, Cook, I hope you slept well?"
Cook tried to feign a return smile, then said, "Yeah, everything’s great. Can you excuse me for a second?"
David didn’t bat an eye. "Of course. I’ll go check with Mrs. Baker about breakfast. Be right back."
David fluttered off like always, and Cook turned his attention to his friends.
"Holy shit, Dave, you actually made it." Neal’s eyes were wide with surprise. "We were just taking down bets about when and if you’d make it before noon."
"Well, you all lose," Cook replied, a little bit gruffly. He was not in the mood for joking whatsoever. "Andy, could I talk to you a second?"
Andy looked rightly confused, but got up anyway, letting the cloth napkin in his hand drop across his place setting. "Sure thing," he said. "What’s up?"
A few feet away from everyone, Cook looked at his best friend, quiet a moment save for placing his hands lightly on Andy’s shoulders. Andy, for his part, was a trooper like always, but definitely had the expression of someone who suspected something was up.
"I just wanted to say..." Cook began, but then stopped because he didn’t actually know what he wanted to say. Andy patiently waited. Cook sighed. "Look, I know I’ve been a total dick the last few days-"
"Try since junior year of college," Andy tried to kid, and Cook did let the corner of a grin slip out.
"So I wanted to say sorry," Cook finished. "You’re my best friend and I’m sorry for not treating you like it all the time."
"It’s cool, dude," Andy replied easily. "I get you."
This Cook appreciated, and suddenly something compelled him to grip Andy’s shoulders tightly, then tug him into a nearly suffocating hug that lasted way too long, even for best friends.
"I love you, man," Cook said into Andy’s ear. "I just appreciate your friendship so much. I’d be nowhere without you."
"Oookay," Andy replied, putting up with the unexpected embrace longer than any other sane human would have. He finally pushed at Cook’s shoulders a little, breaking the hug. "What’s gotten into you? Are you drunk right now? Feverish?"
"Actually, I’m seeing things more clearly than I have in my entire life," Cook replied.
Andy still looked skeptical. "Okay. Well, can we go see some bacon and eggs a little more clearly right now? Because I’m starving."
Cook finally smiled brightly, clapped Andy on the shoulder and replied, "Of course. There’s nothing else I’d like more than to do that with you."
David's cheeks were red with the cold, and the white-blue snow everywhere matched the scarf wound around his neck. His hand was warm in Cook's.
"What?" David said, licking his lips a little.
Cook grinned. "What what?"
"You - keep looking at me," David said, glancing away shyly.
"I just really like you," Cook said honestly.
There was a streetlight nearby, and it cast a shadow on David's face, making it hard to see. When David looked down at the ground, Cook was a little concerned that he'd been too forward, but then he caught the hint of a smile on David’s face.
There were a couple flurries in his hair, so Cook lifted his free hand and brushed them away. David raised his eyes back to Cook's, and Cook's knuckles brushed his cheek. For a moment, they were frozen, and then Cook started to lean in closer.
They both jumped violently when Cook's phone went off, the sound jarringly loud in the muted winter around them.
"Sorry, sorry," Cook apologized as he fumbled in his pocket, trying to turn it off. He pulled it out. Andy.
He hesitated for a crucial second, but then raised the phone reluctantly. "I'm really sorry, I know this is awful, but I have to take this."
David nodded his assent, and Cook answered the phone right before it went to voicemail, turning away a fraction to give himself some privacy.
"Hello?"
"Dave!" Andy's voice boomed out over the speakers. "Are you with the others? I can't find them."
He was definitely slurring. "Where are you?" Cook asked. "The guys aren't with you?"
"Well, we were all here, and then I don't know what happened, I blinked or something, and now they're gone! Except you. You weren't even here before. Are you with Daaaavid?"
"Andy, where are you?"
"First tell me if you're with David!"
"Yeah, I am."
Andy made some sort of hooting sound on the other end of the line. "It's like that song!" he crowed. "The one with the tree! David and David - whoa, did you know you guys have the same name?"
Cook glanced at David, but he didn't seem like he could hear the conversation, thankfully. "Yeah. Anyway, Andy, where are you?"
"Um, I think it's called Snuggle. No! Cuddle! It's a sports bar!"
Cook snorted. "Huddle Sports Bar?"
"Yeah! That's it!"
"Okay, I'm going to come get you. Stay there, understand?"
"You got it, dude."
"Cool, see you soon."
Cook hung up and turned to David regretfully and gauged his expression. He didn't look mad, but he also didn't look thrilled.
"I'm really, really sorry about this, but I have to go. Andy needs me. Seems he's had a little bit too much to drink."
David nodded, his expression immediately softening. He was so understanding. "Of course! At Huddle?"
"Yeah, do you know the best way to get there from here?"
One would have thought that after this long, Cook would have known Murray backwards and forwards, but apparently not. They were in an area he'd only seen once or twice before, and his sense of direction wasn’t the greatest anyway.
"How about I drive you?"
"You don't have to do that."
"I don't mind at all," David said firmly. "Besides, it'll be easier to get him back in a car than walking, even if it's not too far."
As they made their way toward David's car, Cook said, "Sounds like you have experience."
David laughed. "Well, just because I don't drink, doesn't mean I don't have friends who do."
***
Andy was waiting for them in a booth by the door, much to Cook's relief. Just like he'd said, the rest of the band was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, Andy was in a happy, agreeable mood, and they got him into the car without a problem.
Getting him to wear his seatbelt was a little more of a challenge, mostly because he kept squirming and sliding around, and finally Cook climbed in the back with him to hold him steady.
"David!" Andy said once David had started the car. "Thanks for driving us!"
"No problem," David said easily.
"It's really nice of you! I can see why Dave likes you!"
"Andy," Cook hissed.
David glanced at him in the rear view mirror, a shy smile playing on his lips.
"No, seriously, he would not shut up about you earlier, it was kind of - mmph!"
Cook smiled weakly at David, his hand firmly covering Andy's mouth. "I'm just gonna... leave my hand here."
Oblivious to Cook's embarrassment, David kept grinning the whole drive back.
***
After they'd managed to get Andy tucked into bed (not without difficulties - it was a good thing Kyle was capable of sleeping through a hurricane), David and Cook crept out into the hallway.
"Thanks for helping me," Cook said. "You really didn't have to, and it was much appreciated."
"It's great that you're there for your friends like that," David said. "It's really... sweet."
"That's what friends are-" Cook started, but he fell silent, because suddenly David had his hand on Cook's chest, thumb brushing his clavicle through his shirt, and he was coming up into Cook's space, and then he was kissing Cook.
Cook felt like he was in a daydream. He wrapped his arms around David and kissed him back, bringing his hand up to brush against David's cheek. They kissed for several minutes before they broke apart, breathing hard.
"Do you want to come up to my room?" Cook asked when he'd caught his breath.
David looked startled for a moment, and then his expression immediately closed down.
Before Cook had time to even register that something was wrong, he shoved Cook's hand away. "Excuse me? You - I am not having sex with you, Cook. I'm not one of your freaking groupies."
"What?"
David shook his head, glaring. "I should have known this was too good to be true."
Cook stared open-mouthed as David turned and stormed off. David was almost out the door before Cook came to his senses and hurried after him. "Wait! I didn't mean-"
David's car door slammed, and then he was driving off.
"That is not what I meant!" Cook shouted after his car, but it was too late. He kicked the fence post. Was it too much to ask for just one day where nothing went terribly wrong?
"Is this another park? How many parks does Murray have anyway?"
"Well, there’s a couple small ones, I guess. This is really a playground."
"Oh. Let’s cut through it."
"Ha ha, what? It’ll take way longer to trudge through the built up snow than to just go around the block here."
"I know, that’s why I want to do it."
David stopped walking and stared up at Cook, who beamed back down at his companion. Cook had requested a nighttime walking tour of Murray, which confused David a little bit because there’d be nicer sights during the day and it was absolutely freezing outside. But Cook had become accustomed to David’s confused face, and found it so adorable that he’d started making strange requests just to see it more often.
"All right, you’re the guest, I suppose," David relented, turning to the snow covered path that led into the playground. "But I don’t understand you at all."
Cook grinned as he followed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just want to spend more time with you is all," he explained.
David paused and looked back at him, cheeks flushed from the cold air. "I think I saw a movie once where some guy lured a girl into a park at night and kidnapped her or something. Is that what’s happening here?"
Cook laughed. "First of all, you’ve never watched a scary movie in your entire life. Second, no. But maybe."
A curious smile arched David’s mouth, and he joined Cook as he passed. "How do you know that?" he asked.
"Know what?" Cook replied, concentrating on the thick snow in front of him.
"That I’ve never even seen a scary movie."
"Good guess, I suppose," Cook answered. "You don’t seem like someone who’d be a fan."
Cook could see from the corner of his eye the suspicious look David gave him, so he changed the subject. "Let’s build a snowman."
The expression on David’s face instantly went from suspicion to surprise. He chuckled a little and said, "What?"
"A snowman! You know I’ve never built a snowman before?" It was a little bit of a lie because Cook had relatives in the Midwest that he’d visited during Christmas as a kid.
"Really?" David asked, almost sounding sad about it. "How is that possible?"
Cook shrugged and kicked a clump of snow in front of him. "I grew up in California."
"That’s horrible!" David exclaimed, which made Cook burst out laughing. This kid, seriously. "I mean… not that California is… I just meant…"
"I know what you meant," Cook reassured. "So are you gonna teach me or what?"
"Of course!" David said enthusiastically. "Come on, first you have to help me roll up a big ball of snow for the first part of his body."
So the lesson began, and David filled Cook in on all the tricks and techniques of building the perfect snowman. It was amusing to hear this grown man talk about carrot noses and finding the right sticks for the arms, but Cook enjoyed every second of it.
At one point David had wandered across the playground toward the slides because he knew there’d be bark dust hidden beneath the snow there that they could use for eyes, and Cook stopped in the middle of forming the head as another idea sprouted in his brain. Setting down the (admittedly lumpy) ball, he scooped up another handful of lightly packed snow and waited for the perfect moment to send the snowball flying to hit David square in the back.
Pieces of bark dust tumbled out of David’s hands as he whipped around, and Cook couldn’t help laughing. Without a word, David scooped up some snow of his own, quickly hurling it at his companion. It missed him entirely.
"Wow, Archuleta, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you were never on the baseball team at school. You missed me by a mile."
As soon as the words made it out of Cook’s mouth though, a second sphere of soft snow whizzed by, clipping him just across his right ear.
"Oh! I see, this is like some sort of hustle," Cook called to him as he brushed snow off his shoulder. "Make me think you’re bad and then attack when I’m not ready. I see how it is." He bent down to collect another ball before darting across the playground.
It turned out that David was just as good at snowball warfare as he was at designing snowmen, and Cook got pretty winded trying to chase him around the park. David had smacked him several times in the back and shoulder, while managing to avoid the majority of Cook’s return assaults.
"This isn’t fair!" Cook called at one point as he dodged behind a thick tree. "You’ve got home court advantage! You’re used to running around in this snow!"
"Hey, I didn’t start it!" David replied from somewhere beyond the tree. "You should’ve thought of that ahead of time!"
"You’ll find I’m not very good at thinking ahead," Cook admitted, resting his head against the tree truck. Two seconds later, David appeared at his left and lobbed one last snowball, hitting him square across the shoulder.
"Okay, okay!" Cook said. "I surrender, okay? You win."
David grinned widely and grabbed Cook’s hand. "Come on, let’s finish the snowman."
Letting out a huge gasp of air, Cook followed, very much aware that David had taken his hand without thinking about it. He dragged his feet through the disturbed snow, but halfway back to the snowman, he purposefully collapsed to the ground, taking David straight down with him.
"What the heck?" David yelped as he fell next to Cook, though both of them laughed. "Come on, get up. You’re not dying."
"I can’t go any further," Cook said, splaying himself fully out on his back. "Go on without me, I’ll just die here alone. Save yourself."
David grinned, shaking his head. "No, I’ll never let go."
"What is this, Titanic?" Cook laughed. "If I remember correctly, Rose still lets go and Jack freezes to death in the ocean."
David’s brow rose slightly, then he said, "Well, I’m not her. I’m staying here with you." As he said it he laid out alongside Cook too, tucking his gloved hands behind his head.
They lay like that for a long moment, just looking up into the clear winter sky together. Cook tried to remember the names of at least a couple constellations, but none came to mind. He made a mental note to go by the Murray Public Library and study up on them later.
"You know," David said at length, breathing heavily into the cold night air. "Today has to be the most incredible day of my life. Everything’s gone so quickly, I can hardly get my mind around it.
Cook continued to stare into the clear, star-speckled sky and nodded. It didn’t escape him that trying to win over a stranger in one day not only wouldn’t be easy, but bordered on creepy for the other person. But he couldn’t help it anymore. He’d grown so attached to David now that even though he had to start over every single day it didn’t matter. He’d do this until the stars faded from the sky if he had to. Because one day - he just knew that one day he’d wake up and it’d be a new morning, and everything he’d accomplished in this frozen moment with David would matter.
"It’s pretty incredible," Cook said at length, and David leaned his head a little closer.
"I mean, I’ve never gone zero to a hundred with someone in a single day before," David added. "It’s just so… weird and exciting at the same time."
A shooting star that Cook had never seen before jetted across the sky, and he watched it until the tail faded into the inky black night.
"Sometimes you meet someone," he said quietly, choosing his words carefully. "And it’s like you’ve known them for ages."
"I never thought that could really be true," David replied, shivering a little. "It seems a little crazy."
"I’ve believed it more and more lately," Cook said thoughtfully. He dared to draw his arm around David’s shoulders to keep him from shivering more, which David allowed willingly. "What time is it?" he asked.
David’s winter coat shuffled as he drew up his arm and peered at his watch.
"Oh gosh, it’s 11:45. I had no idea we’d been out here so long. We should get back."
"Let’s stay until the clocks run out," Cook said mysteriously, and even he wasn’t quite sure where that’d come from or what it meant exactly.
"Pardon?" David asked.
"Fifteen more minutes," Cook said, closing his eyes against the crisp breeze picking up around them. "Just fifteen more minutes of this."
Next Part
Previous Part
Sunlight was pouring in through the lace curtains, and there were birds chirping outside, but the peace of the morning was interrupted by a brief burst of static and then crackly music: never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna--
Cook didn't even spare a moment to scowl at the rooster alarm clock this morning. In a movement that had become entirely practiced with repetition, he flung an arm out and landed it exactly on the 'off' switch.
Today was the day.
Today was the day he was going to finally manage to kiss David.
Something had gone wrong every time he'd tried over the past few days, but not today. Because today he had a plan. Today he had an awesome plan. Today he had a perfect, romantic, foolproof plan.
It was so simple, too. Every night, the Ferris wheel froze at 9:34 PM. He'd seen it happen countless times at this point. And what could be more romantic than being on the top of the world, looking down at the lights of the carnival? Nothing, that's what. It was cliché levels of perfect, and Cook was pretty sure that David didn't have a problem with clichés.
***
Cook glanced impatiently at his phone. The server at the restaurant he and David were at was slow. If he hadn't been one hundred percent certain that it would put David off, he might even have snapped at him. Actually, to be fair, it wasn't really the server who was to blame. The restaurant was packed, and seemed short-staffed. And it wasn't his fault that Cook had a very urgent need to get David out of here and back to the fair, like, yesterday.
Knowing these things did nothing to make Cook less antsy. Across from him, David was gesticulating wildly as he talked about how much he loved Christmas, without a care in the world. It was actually really cute, and under normal circumstances, Cook would have been caught up just in watching the animated way he spoke. But tonight he had a mission, one that hinged on them getting out of this restaurant in the next two minutes.
Finally, the server brought back Cook's credit card. Cook didn't even wait to hear his apologies, springing up from his seat.
"Not at all, don't worry about it," he blurted, and tried to get David to put on his jacket faster by sheer force of will.
"Are you okay, Cook?" David laughed breathlessly as Cook speed-walked along the sidewalk, pulling David along by the hand.
"Of course!" Cook said distractedly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, you just seem like you're in a hurry."
Cook forced himself to slow down a little, and he smiled back at David. "I just want to get back to the fair! There's so much we didn't get a chance to do yet!"
David hummed agreeably, and swung their arms a little.
"We have to go on the Ferris wheel first," Cook said as they got nearer. He glanced at his phone. Six minutes. It was going to be tight. "I love Ferris wheels. And now that it's dark, it'll be perfect."
"Whatever you want, Cook."
In the nick of time, they arrived at the Ferris wheel. They'd made it, with a full minute to spare. Cook celebrated inwardly, until he caught sight of the line, and drooped. There was no way they'd make it through a line that long in a minute.
Just as he had that thought, the Ferris wheel groaned to a stop.
"Oh, wow, I think the Ferris wheel is stuck!" David said, giggling. "That's unfortunate! It's a good thing we didn't get here, like two minutes earlier or we’d be up there!"
Cook resisted the urge to bang his head against the halted Ferris wheel.
"Yeah," he said grumpily.
Today, Cook decided, was definitely the day. They'd finished off dinner with plenty of time to spare, and now they were back to wandering around the fairgrounds. The fair was beautiful at night. Cook hadn't really appreciated it before; he'd always been caught up with not wanting to be there, or, as in yesterday's case, worrying about something like orchestrating the perfect top-of-the-Ferris-wheel kiss.
Today, he felt much more relaxed (even though he was definitely still planning on orchestrating the perfect top-of-the-Ferris-wheel kiss). It was a beautiful night, he was with David, and he had a really good feeling about tonight. He bought freshly roasted peanuts for them to share as he waited for the right moment to suggest they get on the Ferris wheel.
In the meantime, he regaled David with stories about he and the guys, and their crazy antics. As he finished telling the story about how Andy and Neal had compiled an EP for him and sent it off to a record company without his knowledge, he decided that now was the perfect time to get in line.
"They sound great," David said, smiling warmly. "Really awesome friends you can depend on."
"They really are," Cook said. "Hey, do you want to go ride the Ferris wheel? I bet the fair looks absolutely gorgeous from up there right now."
David agreed readily enough, and they were soon in line. David was telling him a story now, about how it had been his greatest ambition in high school to get on American Idol.
Cook laughed, because, well, American Idol, but said, "You totally would have won!"
"Oh, no," David started, shaking his head, but Cook insisted.
"Are you kidding? You’ve got a great voice!"
"You’ve never even heard me sing!" David protested.
Oh shit. Cook thought fast. "You were singing to yourself earlier, when we were walking. A Christmas carol. It was pretty quiet, but I could hear."
David did that all the time, so he knew it was totally plausible. Sure enough, David didn’t even bat an eye. "Oh my gosh, why didn’t you stop me?"
"Because I wanted to hear you! Your voice is unreal."
David fumbled with his scarf, and Cook was pretty sure that if it wasn't dark, he would see that David's face was bright red.
"Well, I wouldn't win," David said after a couple moments, his voice suddenly teasing. "You would totally beat me."
"Me on American Idol?" Cook asked with a laugh.
"Hey!" David said, but he was giggling too. "Don't insult America's number one reality TV show!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Cook said solemnly. "But I still think you would beat me."
David gave him what he was pretty sure was an incredulous look. "Yeah, right, I-"
Just then, they both heard a loud shout. "DAAAVE!"
Cook winced as Andy and Kyle materialized out of nowhere.
"Are you riding the Ferris wheel?" Kyle asked excitedly, bouncing on his heels the way he did when he'd been drinking. Andy gave Cook a look that was simultaneously exasperated and fond, which read, You know how he gets.
"I wanna come!" Kyle turned to David. "Hi, David! Ferris wheels are so great!"
David laughed. "They certainly are! Why don't you come with us?"
No.
"Really?" Kyle said. "Ferris wheels are so great!"
David was giggling at him, and under normal circumstances, Cook definitely would have been amused. But seriously? They were minutes from the entrance. Couldn't Kyle and Andy have waited just a tiny bit before deciding to come crash his sort-of-date?
"Can I come, Dave? Can I? I want to ride with you, can I? We can ride together!"
Cook gave Andy a pained look. Andy looked sympathetic, but also amused. He just shrugged helplessly. So although Cook was sorely tempted to say no, he had no choice but to say, "Of course you can, Peekaboo."
Kyle reached out and hugged Cook. "You are so great. Like a Ferris wheel." He turned to David. "This guy is so great, did you know that? Dave is like the best friend ever."
David locked eyes with Cook. "He is pretty great, isn't he?"
Cook was relieved to see that David didn't seem to mind being ditched, or his friend's drunken shenanigans.
They were next in line, so Cook helped Kyle into his seat, and waved at Andy and David.
Well, there was always tomorrow.
Cook didn't want to jinx himself, but today was definitely the day. David was happy and agreeable as always, and their dinner date had gone quite well. They were already in line for the Ferris wheel, and he'd confirmed via text that the rest of the band was still at the bar.
Today, nothing was going to interfere with his plan to kiss David.
As the minutes ticked by, Cook leaned against the railing and listened to David's description of his siblings. He already knew most of what David was telling him, of course, but there was the occasional tidbit of new information. And anyway, it was great just watching David talk, with his excited tone, and variable expressions, and flailing hands. Cook didn't understand how one person could be this adorable.
"Next!"
The ticket conductor called, and David handed over their tickets, holding his breath. Then, before he knew it, they were taking their seats. Success! They were on the Ferris wheel at the right time without any unforeseen circumstances getting in the way.
Their conversation dwindled as the Ferris wheel started to move, and they both became occupied with looking at the view.
"It's like a winter wonderland," Cook said, and right on cue, David started to sing under his breath.
Cook wondered if he'd ever get tired of hearing David sing, or even listening to him talk or looking at his face. Somehow, he didn't think so.
"Oh, gosh, sorry," David said, as he caught himself.
"Don't apologize," Cook admonished. "Your voice is beautiful."
David's cheeks reddened a little. "Thanks."
They were almost at the top now. Cook's heart was thundering in his chest, and his hands were sweating, and since when had he been so nervous about kissing someone?
He wanted to reach out and grab David's hand, but he felt frozen, like his body wasn't even under his control.
Then, they were at the top, and the Ferris wheel was screeching to a stop, and Cook couldn't breathe, he was so nervous.
Next to him, David was as oblivious as ever, leaning forward to get a better view of the fair. "Gosh, it's beautiful! Look at all the lights! Oh, you can see the giant Christmas tree at the hospital from here! Isn't it nice, Cook?"
"Amazing," Cook managed. And it was, but Cook couldn't tear his eyes away from David.
"Hey, why aren't we moving?" David peered over the side of the car.
"Oh my gosh, Cook, I think the Ferris wheel's stuck!" David turned back around to face him, laughing.
Do it, Cook coached himself.
"Cook, are you okay? Oh my heck, you're not afraid of heights, are you?"
Cook shook his head jerkily. "No, I - I just."
David waited, and shifted a little closer, still looking worried. "You just what?"
"I," Cook said faintly. Do it now, what are you waiting for, you idiot?
There were flurries floating in the air around them, and David was gorgeous with his scarf tucked into his coat, and Cook had never liked someone this much.
Kiss him.
Cook shifted forward a little, his stomach clenched. He just had to do it.
But David made him so nervous that he couldn't even move.
And then, there was a little jolt, and they started to move again, and all Cook could think was that he'd missed his chance.
His anxiety disappeared, replaced by annoyance at himself. David was still looking at him worriedly, like he thought Cook was losing it or something, so Cook smiled at him weakly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what happened."
"It's okay," David assured him, looking relieved that Cook had recovered the ability to speak. "Sometimes you don't think something's going to scare you, but then you get in a situation, and suddenly you're too terrified to move."
Which, Cook thought to himself grumpily, was exactly what had happened, only not about heights.
As they walked off the ride, Cook felt like kicking himself. He couldn't believe that he'd had the perfect chance, and had chickened out. This was hopeless.
Still sort of put out from the previous day's failure, Cook hadn't been planning on trying so hard with David today. But as it turned out, he didn't really want to do anything but spend the day with David. Without a set goal in mind, he was more relaxed than he'd been in a while, just enjoying David's company.
When the Ferris wheel stopped, they were on the opposite side of the fair, over by the giant bonfire, roasting marshmallows and drinking hot apple cider (really, there were only so many days in a row that you could drink hot chocolate before you got a little sick of it). David had just finished telling Cook about singing in school talent shows and at church.
"C'mon," Cook wheedled. "Sing me something."
"Oh, no, I couldn't," David said, laughing.
"Sure you can!"
"I'm not very good!" David insisted.
Cook gave him a look, before remembering that David didn't know that he knew better. "I'm sure you are. C'mon, please?"
David huffed, but closed his eyes and sang, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, and folks dressed up like eskimos."
Cook watched, a little bit mesmerized, as David kept singing. God, he was amazing.
When David finally trailed off and opened his eyes, his cheeks were already pink. "You're incredible," Cook said quietly, and before he could even think about it, he leaned in close and brushed his lips against David's.
He pulled back after only a second or two, his pulse thrumming in his ears. David just sat there, looking shocked. Cook was about to panic, but before he could, David curled his hand around Cook's and moved forward to kiss him back. He tasted like spiced apple cider, and his nose was cold, and Cook wanted nothing more than to kiss him forever.
It seemed that Murray did have at least one fine dining restaurant. Or at least a restaurant nice enough to take a date that wasn’t crowded out by families with screaming kids and had cloth napkins on the table. He’d had a very successful day with David, and so when the show (which had been amazing) was over and he came off stage to a beaming David, he immediately asked him if he wanted to go to dinner. Though the latter seemed a bit surprised (Cook sometimes had to be reminded that David had only known him for one day), he kindly accepted and was happy to suggest a place.
After ordering drinks, David began to gush about how wonderful the show had been.
"It was so good," David said, sipping the glass of water he’d been brought. "I mean, I’m familiar with your music, I think I told you before? But yesterday I got the feeling you were not in a very good mood, so..."
Cook held his tongue a second before saying, "I was a jerk yesterday. I’m sure you thought you’d made a horrible mistake booking us. I’m really sorry about that."
David smiled and said, "Well, I’m glad now that I did. The audience was going bananas the entire time. Great job."
Cook had to admit that felt good to hear, even though he’d heard various versions of it before.
"Well, thank you, I really -"
The loud noise of his ringing phone beside him cut him off and startled him at the same time. Picking it up, he saw that Andy was trying to call. He knew the guys had been talking about going to get a drink somewhere after the show, and he’d basically deserted them. But he’d told them he was going to dinner with David (albeit very quickly and in like five words), so he pushed the ‘ignore’ button and set it back down on the table.
"Sorry about that," he apologized.
"You can answer it if you want," David offered. "I won’t be offended if it’s important."
"Nah," Cook replied, taking a drink from his water glass as well. "Man, I’m starving, I hope that waiter comes back soon because I might just eat this napkin soon."
The rest of dinner went swimmingly, and David even make Cook laugh uncontrollably a few times, which only made Cook’s feelings grow more intensely than ever before. They shared a few stories, and both their meals went cold over a lengthy discussion about classic rock versus modern bands.
As David poked at his pasta and continued on a tangent about female singer-songwriter pianists he liked, Cook gazed across the table at him, seriously contemplating his next move. He’d exhausted the catalog of his so-far gathered knowledge and although this was when he’d usually just ask David a blunt, possibly embarrassing question to get to the next necessary factoid, he found himself holding back a moment. This night had gone by astonishingly well. Like so well that it didn’t feel like some kind of game to conquer anymore, but more like… well, to be honest he didn’t know what like. He’d never actually had feelings like these before.
"What’re you thinking about?" David asked, bringing Cook out of his thoughts. He brought his straw to his mouth and chewed on it a little. Damn, he somehow managed to make that sexy.
"Nothing," Cook answered automatically. "I was just… nothing."
"You seemed awfully concentrated on nothing then," David remarked, letting the straw fall back into his glass. "You know, your eyebrows angle in when you’re thinking. It’s cute."
Cook didn’t know what he should say to that. People didn’t usually make comments about how cute he was. Like maybe some girls had screamed he had a sexy ass or something from time to time, but he couldn’t recall any comments about his adorableness ever being mentioned.
"Oh, I… thanks?"
His phone rang obnoxiously yet again, and this time he nearly threw it down on the table in annoyance. Again Andy Skib scrolled across the screen and for the first time in living memory Cook felt really agitated with his best friend. Of all the nights that had ever existed, Andy chose this night - this perfect, lovely night - to become the neediest friend on the planet. He punched the ‘ignore’ button and then flipped the ringer switch on the side.
"I’m turning it off for real this time," Cook said, shoving the phone back into his pocket. "Sorry about that."
"It’s okay," David replied, genuinely forgiving. He would be, of course. "People are calling me all the time too, especially now that we’ve finally arrived at the festival date. Geez, I think my phone battery gives out by nine in the morning anymore."
Cook laughed and leaned back in his seat just as two short vibrations tickled his thigh. Luckily, ignoring voicemail was one of his super powers.
For the next forty-five minutes, David offered up stories about his family and friends without Cook even asking. The usual tactic of pressing for information had left Cook’s thoughts as he happily watched David tell a story about his brother, grinning and gesturing unnecessarily the entire time. The tale got lost on Cook about halfway through as he gazed at David’s face, but the latter didn’t seem to notice. The waiter returned to refill their water glasses and offer the dessert menu.
"Oh gosh," David breathed, sinking in his chair a little. "I don’t know if I could eat another bite of anything."
Cook eyed the dessert menu and chewed his bottom lip. "Come on," he said. "Share some crème brulée with me." He flashed a smile that David seemed to not be able to refuse.
"Oh, okay," he relented. "But if I explode or can’t fit into my jeans tomorrow, it’s all on you."
"I take full responsibility," Cook chuckled, and handed the menu back to the waiter. "One crème brulée and two spoons, please."
The waiter whisked away and a moment later David took the opportunity to excuse himself to the men’s room. Cook gazed at him as he walked across the entire restaurant, thinking about how maybe this was his Beauty and the Beast moment. He’d taken to considering his ordeal as something of a classic fairy tale lately, and that maybe this was the kind of thing where if he just did everything exactly right and made his true love fall for him or whatever that the spell would be broken. He could wake up to a real tomorrow and maybe even have David as well. Yes, this had to be the night that would actually end, where everything that happened would carry on to tomorrow and never be erased.
For about the millionth time, Cook’s buzzing phone distracted him from his fantasies, and because David had now left his sight, he went ahead and grabbed it out of his pocket, ready to tell Andy off once and for all.
Kyle Peek flashed up at him instead, urgent and bright.
"Hey, Peekaboo," Cook answered, using the silly nickname the band had given its drummer. He might have been a bit annoyed with Andy not getting the picture that he was busy, but it was always difficult to be sour with Kyle, no matter how crazy the kid could be sometimes.
"Dave, where have you been?"
Cook’s face instantly fell. Kyle did not sound like his usually cheerful self, and in fact had a grave, anxious tone. Cook sat up straighter in his seat, trying to ignore the noisy restaurant in order to hear his friend.
"I’m... I’m at dinner with David," Cook explained. "What’s wrong?"
"After you left we all went out for drinks," Kyle replied, his voice wavering slightly. "And I don’t exactly remember, honestly, how we all got split up. Like Monty and Neal went off to talk to some girls and I had gone back to the hotel because I was tired... I guess Andy opted to stay at the bar, you know? And like... oh, God, Dave..."
Kyle trailed, and Cook felt his heart jump into his throat. "Kyle, what happened?"
"The bartender offered to call him a cab, Dave, he swears it, but..."
"Jesus, Kyle, get to the fucking point already!" Cook snapped unfairly. He did not do well with this sort of anticipation at all.
Cook could hear Kyle make a strange, throaty noise before he continued. "We think he realized he was drunk, and tried to call us. His phone had a few calls to each of us, but I’d gone to sleep and turned my phone off - Monty and Neal were still somewhere in the bar but it was so noisy they couldn’t hear... There were like a dozen calls to you after that... He wandered out into the street then, and the bartender was calling him a cab, but it didn’t come soon enough. A guy who saw the whole thing says Andy stumbled into the street, and he crossed against a red light. The car coming through the intersection couldn’t stop fast enough on the icy road and..."
Cook didn’t hear the rest of Kyle’s story, but he could pretty much put the pieces together from there. His phone slid in his palm as he gazed unblinkingly in front of him.
"Everything okay?"
Cook almost jumped out of his skin at the touch on his shoulder. David had returned and was peering down at him, eyes filled with worry.
"I have to go," he explained quietly. "Andy’s been in an accident."
***
Cook slumped down in the single chair provided in Andy’s room. Hospitals really freaked him out, and this one was no different. The stark coldness of plain white sheets and sanitized machinery only added to the chill that hadn’t left his bones ever since he’d set foot in this godforsaken state. Sighing, he glanced up at Andy, whose eyes were still gently closed. It sucked seeing his best friend like this. Totally sucked.
He’d been gazing at Andy and thinking about how this had been entirely his fault when his phone buzzed in his clutched hand. David Archuleta flashed on the screen followed by the symbol denoting a text message.
How’s your friend? it read.
Stable Cook tapped out.
I’m so sorry. came the response.
It’s not your fault. Cook reasoned.
I’m saying a prayer for him.
Thanks.
Cook closed the message folder, only to be reminded in angry red numbers that he had a dozen voice messages to listen to. Hovering his thumb over the alert, he contemplated just deleting them all at once. Instead he opened the folder to find Andy’s name filling up the list. He punched the first one and braced himself.
Hey, Dave, I don’t know where you are right now, but you should come join us at the Huddle Sports Bar… It’s like… Neal, where are we? Well, no kidding, dumbass, I mean what street? You’re useless, man. Dave, just look it up on your phone, it’s not far from the park… Come find us.
Sighing, Cook deleted the message, which then prompted the next message to start playing.
…Okay, you’re not gonna believe it, but this place has like 300 beers on tap, dude. I’m not even lying. Like imports from every place you can even imagine. Tiemann’s up to Germany, so I think you’d better get here before he tries to invade Hungary…
… Dave, it’s 8:30. Seriously, where are you? I know you can’t be at any other bar, we’ve found the only one...
… Hey, Dave, it’s Andy. I, uh… Kyle went to bed ages ago and Monty and Neal have disappeared on me so… so if you get this I might need a ride home soon because, yeah, I’ve been drinking like a champ… Um, call me, bro…
… Dave. Daaaavid Coooook. Heh, your name sounds funny when you say it like that, don’t you think? Try it. Cooooook. Anyway, I’ve looked for the guys but I think they’re gone. I looked outside. I mean, I’m outside now. And like, it’s snowing. It’s snowing! Snooooow. It feels funny on my face. But I forgot which way it is to the hotel place and uh… can you help me? I mean, I can probably find it - whoa, the sidewalk is slippery, Dave, be careful when you get here… It’s a little icy…
Cook threw his phone down onto the edge of Andy’s bed and sunk his face into his palms. Feeling like he could vomit at any moment, he reminded himself of what a horrible friend he’d been. A selfish, goddamned horrible friend. Andy had needed him, had even done the most responsible thing and admitted his inability to find his way home safely, had decided to call on his best friend to come help him out. And Cook had just ignored it. Ignored it just so he could look at David Archuleta’s face for two more seconds. What a jerk he’d been. Because what part of a friend calling repeatedly didn’t send up the red flag that something might be wrong? Why had he been annoyed rather than concerned? Maybe this whole thing was starting to get way out of hand, skewing his priorities even further into left field than they’d ever been before.
Rubbing his forehead, Cook glanced up at the clock, which now read 10:45. At least he’d only have to endure this agony for another hour or so. That is unless this was it. He didn’t always think about it, but now and again the realization that he might suddenly be thrust back out of this time loop at any given moment crossed his mind. Thrust out and stuck with whatever consequences he’d managed in the last twenty-four hours. He looked at Andy, lying there as still as stone and then back at his own hands.
He decided it probably wouldn’t hurt to send up a prayer of his own.
Sunlight was pouring in through the lace curtains, and there were birds chirping outside, but the peace of the morning was interrupted by a brief burst of static and then crackly music: never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna--
Cook smacked the off button efficiently, letting his arm drop limply across his chest. He didn’t get up right away, but rather stared at the ceiling a couple minutes. The day before had been almost too heavy to handle, and he considered not getting out of bed ever again. In the end, however, he sighed, knowing that David would be downstairs waiting for him again, fresh and oblivious and wearing that blue and gray sweater vest that brought out his eyes.
Though as he got up and reluctantly put on clothes and washed his face, his thoughts were really more with the band. The motley crew half made up of old friends and half made up of new curiosities that fit in perfectly. And Andy, this man who he’d known the longest, jammed with the most, written the most songs with, and who sat patiently by on the piano while Cook took all the glory for songs that really only worked because Andy had injected them with his quiet, revolutionary talent. If he was completely honest with himself, Cook owed everything he had to Andy Skib.
Because he’d opted out of the shower that always made him a half an hour late, Cook arrived downstairs in the dining area the earliest he’d ever been to date. Coming around the last corner from the stairwell, he let out an enormous sigh of relief as he saw the band only just sitting down at the table David had held for them. Andy was joking with Neal, smiling, and had no visible scrapes or bruises. Thank God. David himself looked up to Cook as he approached and flashed his thousand watt smile.
"Good morning, Cook, I hope you slept well?"
Cook tried to feign a return smile, then said, "Yeah, everything’s great. Can you excuse me for a second?"
David didn’t bat an eye. "Of course. I’ll go check with Mrs. Baker about breakfast. Be right back."
David fluttered off like always, and Cook turned his attention to his friends.
"Holy shit, Dave, you actually made it." Neal’s eyes were wide with surprise. "We were just taking down bets about when and if you’d make it before noon."
"Well, you all lose," Cook replied, a little bit gruffly. He was not in the mood for joking whatsoever. "Andy, could I talk to you a second?"
Andy looked rightly confused, but got up anyway, letting the cloth napkin in his hand drop across his place setting. "Sure thing," he said. "What’s up?"
A few feet away from everyone, Cook looked at his best friend, quiet a moment save for placing his hands lightly on Andy’s shoulders. Andy, for his part, was a trooper like always, but definitely had the expression of someone who suspected something was up.
"I just wanted to say..." Cook began, but then stopped because he didn’t actually know what he wanted to say. Andy patiently waited. Cook sighed. "Look, I know I’ve been a total dick the last few days-"
"Try since junior year of college," Andy tried to kid, and Cook did let the corner of a grin slip out.
"So I wanted to say sorry," Cook finished. "You’re my best friend and I’m sorry for not treating you like it all the time."
"It’s cool, dude," Andy replied easily. "I get you."
This Cook appreciated, and suddenly something compelled him to grip Andy’s shoulders tightly, then tug him into a nearly suffocating hug that lasted way too long, even for best friends.
"I love you, man," Cook said into Andy’s ear. "I just appreciate your friendship so much. I’d be nowhere without you."
"Oookay," Andy replied, putting up with the unexpected embrace longer than any other sane human would have. He finally pushed at Cook’s shoulders a little, breaking the hug. "What’s gotten into you? Are you drunk right now? Feverish?"
"Actually, I’m seeing things more clearly than I have in my entire life," Cook replied.
Andy still looked skeptical. "Okay. Well, can we go see some bacon and eggs a little more clearly right now? Because I’m starving."
Cook finally smiled brightly, clapped Andy on the shoulder and replied, "Of course. There’s nothing else I’d like more than to do that with you."
David's cheeks were red with the cold, and the white-blue snow everywhere matched the scarf wound around his neck. His hand was warm in Cook's.
"What?" David said, licking his lips a little.
Cook grinned. "What what?"
"You - keep looking at me," David said, glancing away shyly.
"I just really like you," Cook said honestly.
There was a streetlight nearby, and it cast a shadow on David's face, making it hard to see. When David looked down at the ground, Cook was a little concerned that he'd been too forward, but then he caught the hint of a smile on David’s face.
There were a couple flurries in his hair, so Cook lifted his free hand and brushed them away. David raised his eyes back to Cook's, and Cook's knuckles brushed his cheek. For a moment, they were frozen, and then Cook started to lean in closer.
They both jumped violently when Cook's phone went off, the sound jarringly loud in the muted winter around them.
"Sorry, sorry," Cook apologized as he fumbled in his pocket, trying to turn it off. He pulled it out. Andy.
He hesitated for a crucial second, but then raised the phone reluctantly. "I'm really sorry, I know this is awful, but I have to take this."
David nodded his assent, and Cook answered the phone right before it went to voicemail, turning away a fraction to give himself some privacy.
"Hello?"
"Dave!" Andy's voice boomed out over the speakers. "Are you with the others? I can't find them."
He was definitely slurring. "Where are you?" Cook asked. "The guys aren't with you?"
"Well, we were all here, and then I don't know what happened, I blinked or something, and now they're gone! Except you. You weren't even here before. Are you with Daaaavid?"
"Andy, where are you?"
"First tell me if you're with David!"
"Yeah, I am."
Andy made some sort of hooting sound on the other end of the line. "It's like that song!" he crowed. "The one with the tree! David and David - whoa, did you know you guys have the same name?"
Cook glanced at David, but he didn't seem like he could hear the conversation, thankfully. "Yeah. Anyway, Andy, where are you?"
"Um, I think it's called Snuggle. No! Cuddle! It's a sports bar!"
Cook snorted. "Huddle Sports Bar?"
"Yeah! That's it!"
"Okay, I'm going to come get you. Stay there, understand?"
"You got it, dude."
"Cool, see you soon."
Cook hung up and turned to David regretfully and gauged his expression. He didn't look mad, but he also didn't look thrilled.
"I'm really, really sorry about this, but I have to go. Andy needs me. Seems he's had a little bit too much to drink."
David nodded, his expression immediately softening. He was so understanding. "Of course! At Huddle?"
"Yeah, do you know the best way to get there from here?"
One would have thought that after this long, Cook would have known Murray backwards and forwards, but apparently not. They were in an area he'd only seen once or twice before, and his sense of direction wasn’t the greatest anyway.
"How about I drive you?"
"You don't have to do that."
"I don't mind at all," David said firmly. "Besides, it'll be easier to get him back in a car than walking, even if it's not too far."
As they made their way toward David's car, Cook said, "Sounds like you have experience."
David laughed. "Well, just because I don't drink, doesn't mean I don't have friends who do."
***
Andy was waiting for them in a booth by the door, much to Cook's relief. Just like he'd said, the rest of the band was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, Andy was in a happy, agreeable mood, and they got him into the car without a problem.
Getting him to wear his seatbelt was a little more of a challenge, mostly because he kept squirming and sliding around, and finally Cook climbed in the back with him to hold him steady.
"David!" Andy said once David had started the car. "Thanks for driving us!"
"No problem," David said easily.
"It's really nice of you! I can see why Dave likes you!"
"Andy," Cook hissed.
David glanced at him in the rear view mirror, a shy smile playing on his lips.
"No, seriously, he would not shut up about you earlier, it was kind of - mmph!"
Cook smiled weakly at David, his hand firmly covering Andy's mouth. "I'm just gonna... leave my hand here."
Oblivious to Cook's embarrassment, David kept grinning the whole drive back.
***
After they'd managed to get Andy tucked into bed (not without difficulties - it was a good thing Kyle was capable of sleeping through a hurricane), David and Cook crept out into the hallway.
"Thanks for helping me," Cook said. "You really didn't have to, and it was much appreciated."
"It's great that you're there for your friends like that," David said. "It's really... sweet."
"That's what friends are-" Cook started, but he fell silent, because suddenly David had his hand on Cook's chest, thumb brushing his clavicle through his shirt, and he was coming up into Cook's space, and then he was kissing Cook.
Cook felt like he was in a daydream. He wrapped his arms around David and kissed him back, bringing his hand up to brush against David's cheek. They kissed for several minutes before they broke apart, breathing hard.
"Do you want to come up to my room?" Cook asked when he'd caught his breath.
David looked startled for a moment, and then his expression immediately closed down.
Before Cook had time to even register that something was wrong, he shoved Cook's hand away. "Excuse me? You - I am not having sex with you, Cook. I'm not one of your freaking groupies."
"What?"
David shook his head, glaring. "I should have known this was too good to be true."
Cook stared open-mouthed as David turned and stormed off. David was almost out the door before Cook came to his senses and hurried after him. "Wait! I didn't mean-"
David's car door slammed, and then he was driving off.
"That is not what I meant!" Cook shouted after his car, but it was too late. He kicked the fence post. Was it too much to ask for just one day where nothing went terribly wrong?
"Is this another park? How many parks does Murray have anyway?"
"Well, there’s a couple small ones, I guess. This is really a playground."
"Oh. Let’s cut through it."
"Ha ha, what? It’ll take way longer to trudge through the built up snow than to just go around the block here."
"I know, that’s why I want to do it."
David stopped walking and stared up at Cook, who beamed back down at his companion. Cook had requested a nighttime walking tour of Murray, which confused David a little bit because there’d be nicer sights during the day and it was absolutely freezing outside. But Cook had become accustomed to David’s confused face, and found it so adorable that he’d started making strange requests just to see it more often.
"All right, you’re the guest, I suppose," David relented, turning to the snow covered path that led into the playground. "But I don’t understand you at all."
Cook grinned as he followed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just want to spend more time with you is all," he explained.
David paused and looked back at him, cheeks flushed from the cold air. "I think I saw a movie once where some guy lured a girl into a park at night and kidnapped her or something. Is that what’s happening here?"
Cook laughed. "First of all, you’ve never watched a scary movie in your entire life. Second, no. But maybe."
A curious smile arched David’s mouth, and he joined Cook as he passed. "How do you know that?" he asked.
"Know what?" Cook replied, concentrating on the thick snow in front of him.
"That I’ve never even seen a scary movie."
"Good guess, I suppose," Cook answered. "You don’t seem like someone who’d be a fan."
Cook could see from the corner of his eye the suspicious look David gave him, so he changed the subject. "Let’s build a snowman."
The expression on David’s face instantly went from suspicion to surprise. He chuckled a little and said, "What?"
"A snowman! You know I’ve never built a snowman before?" It was a little bit of a lie because Cook had relatives in the Midwest that he’d visited during Christmas as a kid.
"Really?" David asked, almost sounding sad about it. "How is that possible?"
Cook shrugged and kicked a clump of snow in front of him. "I grew up in California."
"That’s horrible!" David exclaimed, which made Cook burst out laughing. This kid, seriously. "I mean… not that California is… I just meant…"
"I know what you meant," Cook reassured. "So are you gonna teach me or what?"
"Of course!" David said enthusiastically. "Come on, first you have to help me roll up a big ball of snow for the first part of his body."
So the lesson began, and David filled Cook in on all the tricks and techniques of building the perfect snowman. It was amusing to hear this grown man talk about carrot noses and finding the right sticks for the arms, but Cook enjoyed every second of it.
At one point David had wandered across the playground toward the slides because he knew there’d be bark dust hidden beneath the snow there that they could use for eyes, and Cook stopped in the middle of forming the head as another idea sprouted in his brain. Setting down the (admittedly lumpy) ball, he scooped up another handful of lightly packed snow and waited for the perfect moment to send the snowball flying to hit David square in the back.
Pieces of bark dust tumbled out of David’s hands as he whipped around, and Cook couldn’t help laughing. Without a word, David scooped up some snow of his own, quickly hurling it at his companion. It missed him entirely.
"Wow, Archuleta, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you were never on the baseball team at school. You missed me by a mile."
As soon as the words made it out of Cook’s mouth though, a second sphere of soft snow whizzed by, clipping him just across his right ear.
"Oh! I see, this is like some sort of hustle," Cook called to him as he brushed snow off his shoulder. "Make me think you’re bad and then attack when I’m not ready. I see how it is." He bent down to collect another ball before darting across the playground.
It turned out that David was just as good at snowball warfare as he was at designing snowmen, and Cook got pretty winded trying to chase him around the park. David had smacked him several times in the back and shoulder, while managing to avoid the majority of Cook’s return assaults.
"This isn’t fair!" Cook called at one point as he dodged behind a thick tree. "You’ve got home court advantage! You’re used to running around in this snow!"
"Hey, I didn’t start it!" David replied from somewhere beyond the tree. "You should’ve thought of that ahead of time!"
"You’ll find I’m not very good at thinking ahead," Cook admitted, resting his head against the tree truck. Two seconds later, David appeared at his left and lobbed one last snowball, hitting him square across the shoulder.
"Okay, okay!" Cook said. "I surrender, okay? You win."
David grinned widely and grabbed Cook’s hand. "Come on, let’s finish the snowman."
Letting out a huge gasp of air, Cook followed, very much aware that David had taken his hand without thinking about it. He dragged his feet through the disturbed snow, but halfway back to the snowman, he purposefully collapsed to the ground, taking David straight down with him.
"What the heck?" David yelped as he fell next to Cook, though both of them laughed. "Come on, get up. You’re not dying."
"I can’t go any further," Cook said, splaying himself fully out on his back. "Go on without me, I’ll just die here alone. Save yourself."
David grinned, shaking his head. "No, I’ll never let go."
"What is this, Titanic?" Cook laughed. "If I remember correctly, Rose still lets go and Jack freezes to death in the ocean."
David’s brow rose slightly, then he said, "Well, I’m not her. I’m staying here with you." As he said it he laid out alongside Cook too, tucking his gloved hands behind his head.
They lay like that for a long moment, just looking up into the clear winter sky together. Cook tried to remember the names of at least a couple constellations, but none came to mind. He made a mental note to go by the Murray Public Library and study up on them later.
"You know," David said at length, breathing heavily into the cold night air. "Today has to be the most incredible day of my life. Everything’s gone so quickly, I can hardly get my mind around it.
Cook continued to stare into the clear, star-speckled sky and nodded. It didn’t escape him that trying to win over a stranger in one day not only wouldn’t be easy, but bordered on creepy for the other person. But he couldn’t help it anymore. He’d grown so attached to David now that even though he had to start over every single day it didn’t matter. He’d do this until the stars faded from the sky if he had to. Because one day - he just knew that one day he’d wake up and it’d be a new morning, and everything he’d accomplished in this frozen moment with David would matter.
"It’s pretty incredible," Cook said at length, and David leaned his head a little closer.
"I mean, I’ve never gone zero to a hundred with someone in a single day before," David added. "It’s just so… weird and exciting at the same time."
A shooting star that Cook had never seen before jetted across the sky, and he watched it until the tail faded into the inky black night.
"Sometimes you meet someone," he said quietly, choosing his words carefully. "And it’s like you’ve known them for ages."
"I never thought that could really be true," David replied, shivering a little. "It seems a little crazy."
"I’ve believed it more and more lately," Cook said thoughtfully. He dared to draw his arm around David’s shoulders to keep him from shivering more, which David allowed willingly. "What time is it?" he asked.
David’s winter coat shuffled as he drew up his arm and peered at his watch.
"Oh gosh, it’s 11:45. I had no idea we’d been out here so long. We should get back."
"Let’s stay until the clocks run out," Cook said mysteriously, and even he wasn’t quite sure where that’d come from or what it meant exactly.
"Pardon?" David asked.
"Fifteen more minutes," Cook said, closing his eyes against the crisp breeze picking up around them. "Just fifteen more minutes of this."
Next Part