“Oh, well…” Archer ducked his head. “I mean, I dated him for a while, he can’t be a total monster, right?”

Another flash. “If you say so.”

They talked until their cups were drained. “Can I get you another one?” Archer asked, standing. “Cream and a half sugar?”

Mateo nodded. “Sure, thanks.”

When Archer returned, he slid Mateo’s coffee to him and sat down again.

“How do you know my coffee order?” Mateo asked, before he blew on it.

“Uh…” Shit. “The same way I knew you don’t require much sleep.”

“Which is…?”

“This is embarrassing.” Archer slapped a hand over his eyes. “But … I think it was called Crush?” Archer’s face burned. “Some silly teen magazine. You were a ‘heartthrob of the month’ once. They had your answers to all kinds of little questions like that.”

Mateo looked horrified. “Oh God.”

“Yeah, I know. Like I said, silly.” Archer busied himself taking a gulp of the steaming coffee, ignoring how it was slightly too hot to drink.

“And you remember my coffee order?”

“Yup.” No need to tell Mateo how many times he’d read it.

Mateo looked thoughtful. “What else was in there?”

“Let’s see…” Archer shifted and their knees bumped under the table. He wiggled away. “It also said your favorite color is blue, your dream vacation is Paris, and your pet peeve is when people don’t say how they really feel.”

There was a pause, Mateo’s eyebrow climbing. “When people don’t say how they feel?”

Archer shrugged. “Apparently.”

Mateo snorted. “I can guarantee you I never said anything like that. Also, my favorite color is not blue.”

“What is it?”

Mateo’s eyes flicked down to his own shirt, a soft, faded cherry red. “This color.”

“It looks great on you.”

“Thanks. This is my lucky shirt.”

“I see. Trying to get lucky, are you?” Archer instantly regretted his stupid joke, cringing internally. Why, Archer? Why?

Mateo blushed and shifted. Their knees bumped again. Neither of them moved away this time. “Um…”

“Sorry. Ignore me.” Archer shook his head. “That was dumb.”

“It’s fine.” They took a sip in silence. “I would love to go to Paris, though,” Mateo added, with a very kind topic change.

“Oh, same! Pain au chocolat for breakfast every day … er, and the museums, too, of course.”

Mateo laughed. “Of course.”

They chatted a while longer, finishing their second cups, and then Archer left the dining hall smiling, face and heart warm. There was only one thing still weighing him down. He headed straight back to the dorm and found the right room. He knocked.

“Hey, Steve,” he said when the door opened. “Can I talk to Caleb?”

The hulking man peered down at him, frowning. Then his face relaxed into a smile. “That would be great, Archer, thanks. He’s been a mess. I’ll leave you to it.”

Archer poked his head into the dim, silent room. “Caleb?”