Perfectly Ordinary // Shawn Mendes

fate

shawn

As I read the Starbucks menu, I feel someone slam into my back.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so--"

I turn around and it's her. It's Claudia Brooks.

Her jaw drops when my eyes meet hers. She mumbles something that I cannot hear, and then stumbles backwards.

"Claudia?" I say, my voice so soft that it's a whisper.

Her petite body cowers by the Starbucks entrance, staring at me with her huge blue eyes.

She looks different. But she's still so beautiful.

"Oh my god it's you," she says breathlessly.

There's so many thoughts and feelings pulsing through my body and I feel like laughing and crying at the same time.

She runs towards me and hugs me so tightly. It takes me a minute to process what is happening, and I instantly hug her back. She looks up at me and eyes me up and down, noticing my biceps and my height.

"Oh my God. What happened to you?"

I laugh.

As she watches me, I stare at her. Her face looks the same, just matured. Her cheeks are paler and her face has more depth. I can tell that she has a little makeup on. Her hair is cut short, perfectly waved. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her smile isn't as bright as I remember.

She's changed. But she's still Claudia. My Claudia.

We are getting annoyed looks from the people in front and behind us. It's my turn to order, but the whole room is spinning.

"Come on," I say, tugging her out of line and out the door.

She follows, her eyes still wide with shock.

Once we get outside, I find a bench for us to sit on.

"Is this really happening?" She asks, staring down at her shoes.

"It's really happening," I reply, and she looks up at me. I can't help but smile.

"I'm so happy to know you're okay. Claudia, I've been worried sick about you these past three years, it's insane."

Her face changes. Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head and looks at the ground.

"Why haven't you been answering my calls? Oh gosh, Claudia, are you alright?" I say, my voice filling with concern. I don't notice that my arm slides up around her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. She's crying.

Shit. I made her cry.

"I can't do this. Not now," she says, covering her small face with her hands. Her fingernails are painted black and glisten in the sunlight.

"Talk to me. Please tell me what's wrong," I beg, and she pulls away from me.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she says, and she practically jumps off the bench and begins to walk away quickly.

What have I done?

I run after her, taking her frail hand in mine and spinning her around softly.

"Claudia, I still care about you. I need you to tell me what's wrong," I urge, feeling tears in my own eyes. What the hell am I doing? Crying? I'm not 14 anymore, I'm almost an adult.

"Forget it. Forget it all," she demands, her voice weak.

I let go of her hand. Her eyes are filled with pain.

"What do you--"

"Forget about us. Forget about me," she says.

"Claudia, I can't do that, I...I..." My voice trails off. I force myself not to cry.

"Shawn, you're better off without me. Trust me," she insists, and I realize that the brightness and hope I once saw in her eyes completely faded away.

She needed me now more than anything, but she ran away. She left me on the street with teary eyes and a broken heart.