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Tallulla stepped into the coffee shop, taking in a deep breath of the scent. Coffee beans reminded her of her dad. He always smelled like freshly brewed coffee. That and books, every time her father would have a spare minute, he would be reading a book.
She moved to order, the young barista having a look of boredom on his face when she ordered, "I'll take a white americano, please. Thank you."
She watched as the teenager moved sluggishly to the back to make her drink. Damn kids, she thought. God, being 20 does some shit to you. No longer a teenager, but still young enough to get away with doing stupid shit, right? God, she hoped so.
"I have a white americano for Travis!" The teen shouted even though the coffee bar was almost completely empty, and Tallulla was the only one waiting for a coffee. Maybe there was a reason no one was getting a coffee at this shop.
The ginger gave the teenager an unimpressed look, "Do you mean Tallulla?" She questioned, raising her eyebrows, spotting his name tag. Larry.
"Uhh sure." He handed her the coffee.
"Thank you, Larry." Tallulla took the coffee from the boy's sweaty hand.
"It's Larry."
"I know." Tallulla rolled her eyes, turning to leave the coffee shop before stopping in her tracks. "Jamie?" Her voice wavered out, almost in a whisper.
Seeing his face now reminded her of the last time she had seen the boy. The shouting from the room that had caught her attention, giving him a long look through the pane of glass. Waiting for the boy's father to leave. Comforting him with the long, warm hug. The kiss that wasn't real. The memory came flooding back to her.
Her person was standing two feet away from her.
He hadn't talked to her since the kiss. She hadn't talked to anyone about the kiss, not Ted, not Rebecca, not even Davis. Tallulla didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. The blue-eyed girl just stood there stiffly. The boy, on the other hand, stood looking into the eyes that he had missed so much.
The pools of navy had changed ever so slightly. They looked fiercer, more wild than before, wild waves crashing over each other with each blink of the long lashes. The girl herself looked wilder; her once pin-straight hair was now in a messy, windblown style. The ginger had more freckles on her face now than before too, as if she had been out in the sun constantly since the last time he had seen her.
