Chapter Three
LA was almost a completely different city than Sam remembered. The streets, the landmarks, they were the same, but the people seemed alien to him.
He’d spent the past few days trying to work out what made this place home, and kept coming back to one conclusion: Ben had made it home, and now he didn’t have the guts to talk to Ben.
It probably wasn’t that LA was any different. It was Sam who was different, changed by his travels, trying to come back to a place that had never really existed. He’d been happy here because of his friends. Because of one friend in particular.
For every hour that passed, he was starting to feel more and more like he’d made a mistake in coming back. Where else would he have gone, though? He’d seen everything he wanted to see. Home had felt like the only place to go.
Except Sam wasn’t so sure he had a home anymore. He’d spent so much time running from the heartbreak he’d felt here that he didn’t really have anywhere to go.
So here he was, wandering aimlessly, trying to find something familiar to cling to in a world he couldn’t help but feel wasn’t his anymore.
A coffee shop that had been in the same spot since before he left beckoned him. That one sliver of the past would have to be enough to sustain him for now.
It wasn’t exactly as he remembered it, but at least the name had stayed the same. That was something. The change had probably been so gradual that a local wouldn’t have noticed it at all.
“You stalking me?”
Sam turned, shocked, and found Ben standing behind him, having practically followed him inside.
“Uh, I think you’ll find I was here first,” he said automatically.
“So you’re saying I’m stalking you?” Ben raised an eyebrow.
Despite his surprise, Sam managed to laugh. It wasn’t a particularly good joke, but it was obviously meant to be one.
At least they were both equally awkward around each other right now.
“I see you’re still listening to Dad Rock,” Ben nodded to Sam’s Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
“People in musical taste glass houses shouldn’t throw stones at the classics. Or are you over your pop-punk phase?”
Ben cleared his throat, which Sam took as a no. “It would be a little too on the nose to sayit’s not a phase, mom, right now, huh?”
“Not for you,” Sam said.
This time, Ben laughed. It seemed just a tiny bit more comfortable.
“I’m sorry I hadn’t gotten in touch yet,” Ben said, as though it had been more than twenty-four hours since they last ran into each other. “Work’s been… work.”
“Big deadline coming up?” Sam asked, remembering the note on the whiteboard in Ben’s office.
“Something like that. But, uh, I’m taking an enforced break right now, so if you’ve got time for a cup of coffee…”
Sam wet his lips. The one second he had to come up with an excuse flew by, and he was left without one.
Maybe he didn’t really want one. The deep sense of homesickness he’d been feeling two minutes ago had already eased with Ben around, even if they were still a little awkward together.
“I’ve got time,” Sam said.
“Great.” Ben smiled at him. It was a bright, earnest smile of the kind that Ben didn’t just hand out to everyone. Only special people got to be on the receiving end of one of Ben’s smiles.
It was a relief to know that he was still included in that group. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they’d seemed, after all.
“If you grab a table, I’ll get coffee. Same as always.”
“Same as always,” Sam agreed. “Some things never change.”
