chapter one: the broken girl in the coffee shop
she was not the type of girl to wait around after school just to watch you walk to your locker.
she would not wait around at the coffee shop after your practice just to watch you order your large strawberry flavoured water and yoghurt parfait cup.
she would not give you the answers to yesterday’s homework no matter how important that game or practice was, ” or was it a party this time?” she’d ask in an almost sarcastic tone.
she was a tough one, there was a certain stubbornness to her that you admired.
her light brown eyes had seen some of the darkest days you are yet to experience, but you loved it, you loved how she managed to get through it all.
she was not dying to get to know you, but god knows you would do anything to get to know her better.
the quiet girl who just transferred from california, was that her name? her name! you don’t even know her name.
you started to stay after school to get a glance of her on her way to her car, backpack half open, hair a mess. it was cute. you thought it was cute.
after your practice at the coffee shop you would glance around hoping some day she would be sitting alone reading her favourite book, then you’d approach her right then and there and get her name.
weeks go by, she seems to have disappeared. you see her occasionally when walking from class to class.
apparently, she has been seeing someone. someone who you know is not any good for her, but as long as she is happy right?
one night in the coffee shop you glance over at the brunette girl with light brown eyes sitting next to someone.
you hear the pain in her words as she opens her mouth, voice trembling, ” we were doing so well”
minutes go by and there she is alone. wiping the tears off of her rosy cheeks.
you grew angry with yourself, why didn’t you comfort her? why didn’t you go and sit by her? ask her if she was okay?
these thoughts attacked your panicked mind until you got up and walked over.
there you were sitting next to the broken girl in the coffee shop.
no words were exchanged, as she placed her head in the warmth of your embrace.
she doesn’t have her car, so you’ll drive her home.
you won’t ever forget that rainy night or the dark pink and purple sky.
she lives close but you don’t mind taking her. you hope she feels better, and not alone.
you got up and out of your chair, let her feel her emotions without having to hide them behind her grey tear stained sweatshirt. drove her home so she’d be safe. you offered to stay in case she didn’t want to be alone.
little do you know she’ll remember this night forever