• Staring out the window as people hurry from the rain. All shapeless blurs, you don't care to look at their faces to closely, as much as you deny it you know you're only looking for one person.
    "Another coffee miss?" You are pulled away from your search and look up at the woman standing next to your table. What had she said? Another....something. Slowly coming back into your surroundings you get the gist, A forced smile and small nod, handing her the money and your little card, 2 more coffees and you get a free one, this whole time glancing back out the window. The woman goes back to the counter while you go back to the window.
    What if you missed him while you were talking to her? You scan the street as far down as you can see, no sign of him. Not that you're looking for him, just watching to world go by! Stop lying to yourself.
    The woman is back with your coffee, she hands you your card "Are you just trying to get to the free coffee?" She asks. A joke you presume, not a very good one. Just give a small chuckle and maybe she'll leave. It worked.
    Back to the search.
    "Are you waiting for someone?" A deeper voice this time, male. Why couldn't people just let you be? It's a good question though. Are you waiting for someone? No lies this time, honestly. Yes you are waiting for someone. Don't ask who, you already know who. But that leads me onto another question. Why are you here? You skipped a day of school, knowing if you're caught again your mother will ground you for eternity. You sat for an hour on a feezing, smelly bus. You've had about four hundred coffees (Ok 6) just hoping he might come by. And why? You know full well he won't care any more. Just because hes back in town doesn't mean he's back for you.
    Someone clears their throat loudly, distracting you. Why are they so loud? Can't they see you are busy!? Oh yeah someone asked you a question. You look up. Memories come flooding back. Those brown eyes, looking into yours while you kiss behind the old supermarket. That dark hair, brushing against your cheek when he held you tight in the dark cinema. Those soft lips, whispering in your ear that they'll never leave. Those smooth hands, wiping away your tears when your mother has kicked you out again. Those warm arms, protecting you from the cold, winter chill.
    Again "Are you waiting for someone?" You smile, real this time.
    "Not anymore"