THE SPILL

Finn Parker stood outside The Daily Grind, his laptop bag weighing heavy on his shoulder, and wondered, not for the first time that morning, if this was a mistake.

The café was new, barely three weeks old, and already it had become the most popular spot on Harrison College's campus. Through the wide glass windows, Finn could see every table occupied, students huddled over textbooks and laptops, the low hum of conversation mixing with the hiss of the espresso machine. It looked warm. Inviting. Terrifying.

His therapist's voice echoed in his head: Small steps, Finn. Push yourself, but gently. This was supposed to be a small step. Just coffee. Just trying something new instead of hiding in his dorm room or the computer lab like he had for the past year and a half. He'd been back at Harrison for three weeks now after his medical leave, and so far he'd successfully avoided anywhere too crowded, too loud, too... much.

But Dr. Chen had been right he couldn't keep living like a ghost. Finn pulled the door open before he could change his mind. The warmth hit him first, along with the rich smell of coffee and something sweet cinnamon rolls, maybe. The café was even more packed than it had looked from outside, every seat taken, groups of students clustered around tables, and a line of at least eight people waiting to order.

His chest tightened. You can do this. It's just coffee. Finn joined the line, keeping his eyes down, focusing on his breathing like Dr. Chen had taught him. In for four, hold for four, out for four. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his laptop bag. Around him, conversations overlapped something about a calculus exam, weekend plans, someone's terrible Tinder date. The line moved slowly. By the time Finn reached the counter, his palms were sweating. "What can I get you? The barista a girl with purple hair and a nose ring smiled at him. Um, just a medium coffee. Black. His voice came out quieter than he'd intended. You got it. Name? Finn. She scribbled on a cup and handed it to her coworker at the espresso machine.

That'll be three fifty. Finn paid, then stepped aside to wait, pressing himself against the wall near the pickup counter. More people filtered in behind him. The café felt even more crowded now, the air thick with body heat and noise. His heart rate picked up. Breathe. You're fine. You're safe.

Medium black coffee for Finn! He grabbed his cup quickly, grateful to have a reason to leave. Finn turned toward the door, weaving between tables and chairs, his eyes fixed on the exit. He didn't see the person stepping backward from the condiment station.

The collision happened fast Finn's shoulder hit something solid, his hand jerked, and suddenly hot coffee was everywhere. On his hand. On his shirt. On the guy he'd just crashed into. Shit!" Finn gasped, stumbling back. Time seemed to slow down. The guy tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a Harrison Football hoodie looked down at the coffee spreading across his chest. Finn's brain catalogued details in rapid succession: 6'2" at least, dark hair, strong jaw, the kind of build that came from serious time in the gym.

A jock. Of course it was a jock. Finn's throat closed up. His hands started shaking, coffee cup still clutched in one hand even though it was half-empty now. He knew what came next. He'd learned this lesson before. Guys like this, guys who were bigger and stronger and angry I'm sorry, Finn blurted out, already backing away. "I'm so sorry, I didn't I wasn't looking, I, But the guy wasn't yelling. He wasn't even frowning. Instead, he held up both hands in a calming gesture, his expression startlingly gentle. "Hey, whoa. It's okay. Really. Finn blinked. His brain struggled to process the disconnect between what he'd expected and what was actually happening.

I shouldn't have been backing up without looking," the guy continued, his voice low and easy. He glanced down at his hoodie with a rueful smile. "This thing's been through worse, trust me. Football practice gets messy.

Finn just stared at him, still frozen in fight-or-flight mode. The guy's expression shifted something flickered across his face, concern maybe and he took a small step back, giving Finn more space. "Are you okay? Did you burn yourself? The question surprised Finn so much that he actually looked down at his own hand. His skin was red but not blistering. I. no. I'm fine. You sure? The guy's eyes hazel, Finn noticed distantly were fixed on him with unexpected intensity. Not angry. Worried. Yeah. Finn's voice was barely above a whisper. He was suddenly, acutely aware that several people were watching them now. His face burned. I should I'm sorry about your. Don't worry about it.

The guy waved it off. Seriously. These hoodies are basically indestructible. He smiled then, and it transformed his entire face. Made him look younger, less intimidating. Almost kind. Finn didn't know what to do with that. I'm Scott, by the way. The guy Scott extended his hand, then seemed to think better of it and lowered it again. Scott Montgomery.

Finn. It came out automatically. Finn Parker. Nice to meet you, Finn. Even if the circumstances are a little Scott gestured at his coffee-stained hoodie with a laugh. Caffeinated. Was he making a joke? About this? Finn's hands were still shaking. He realized he was still holding the nearly-empty coffee cup and looked around desperately for a trash can.

Here. Scott took the cup from him gently carefully, like Finn was something fragile and tossed it in a nearby bin. "Let me buy you another one. To replace the one that's now decorating my hoodie. No, you don't have to, I want to. Scott's voice was firm but not pushy. Besides, I was about to grab coffee anyway. What were you drinking? Finn's brain felt like it was moving through molasses. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. People didn't just be nice. Not to him. Not when he messed up.

Just black coffee, he heard himself say. Hardcore. I respect that. Scott grinned and gestured toward the line. Come on. My treat. And somehow somehow Finn found himself following Scott Montgomery back to the counter, his heart still racing but for entirely different reasons now. Maybe Dr. Chen had been right about small steps. Maybe this café hadn't been a mistake after all.