Patrick cocked a skeptical eyebrow. And what a delicious eyebrow it was.
“It’s true! Every day, we battle commuters on the El. You brandish my crutch like King Arthur’s sword. And as for challenging, you’ve come up with a scholarly analysis of fall. What’s this guy ever done? Written a cliched screenplay?”
“God, it was awful. Derivative would be a compliment.”
“Maybe the fall spirit pulled you to Chicago.” Spencer rolled his eyes at what he said, as did Patrick, but a part of him sort of believed it.
Patrick burst out laughing. “Wow.”
“Shut up.” Spencer gave him a playful nudge with his elbow before breaking into laughter, too. He was not one to spout to stupid lines like that.
“I’ve gotten inside your head,” Patrick said.
You have, he realized with a lump in his throat.
The train pulled into State and Lake.
“Hey, have you been to that new falafel place by your office?” Patrick asked. “I was thinking of checking it out for lunch today.”
“I haven’t been yet. I hear it’s good.”
Patrick paused. They both knew the subtext here. One of them just had to say it.
“Do you want to meet up for lunch?” / “Wanna go there for lunch?”
Their words overlapped over each other.
Lunch was a step forward in their friendship. They were taking it outside the train, Spencer thought. But it felt natural. And Spencer really did want to try this place.
“Cool,” Spencer said.
Patrick stood up when the doors opened. He straightened his tie once more. Spencer had a flash of fiction in his brain of grabbing it and pulling Patrick toward him to…
To what?
Spencer shook the thought out of his head.
* * *
Spencer wokeup on Friday morning thinking of Patrick. Gray clouds rolled across the cityscape. Patrick would be thrilled. According to him, cloudy weather was synonymous with fall because they allowed the colors of the fall leaves to really pop.
Sure enough, Patrick had a wide smile stamped on his face when they met up in the hallway outside their apartments. It sent a familiar flutter through Spencer’s chest that occurred each morning when they met up. The cloudy weather also helped his green eyes shine even brighter against his light skin.
“I’m surprised you’re not wearing flannel,” Spencer said.
“It’s still warm. At least it’s cloudy,” Patrick said with a relieved sigh for added emphasis. “I’ll take it.”
“You poor thing.” He handed his crutches to Patrick on instinct as they descended the stairs. They had it down to a science. Spencer knew how hard to hop so he wouldn’t lose his balance.
“What are you doing on your lunch break?” Patrick asked. “Do you want to go to the Yankee Candle?”
“There’s a Yankee Candle in the Loop?”
“Yes,” Patrick said as if it was something every Chicagoan knew. “It’s the last week of July.”
They got through one flight of stairs and wound their way around the banister to the next.
“The countdown to fall is right around the corner.”
