The End

I find a lot of happiness in dark skies. I think it's because they remind me of summers back home. No matter how bright the sun shined, you could always expect a storm in the middle of the day. The midafternoon showers frustrated most people in Florida, but I always appreciated them. I think it was the consistency, but also the smell after it was over. It smelled like a new beginning before the moon even arrived.

That day, in Tennessee, I felt at home. I pulled into the parking lot of Charm, making sure to park my car facing away from the building to get a more direct view of the sky. I turned the car off and listened to the sound of the storm rumbling from a distance. When I saw lightning strike, I decided that I better head inside before the rain arrived. I opened the door, grabbed my bag and walked quickly toward the front entrance.

Charm was a busy coffee shop because of where it was located—directly across from the university campus—but also because no one else made coffee nearly as good. When I stepped inside the door, a bell jingled, warning the owner a new customer had just arrived. No one looked up from the counter. I scanned the room and saw a blonde, shaggy haired boy sitting in a small booth in the corner. I walked over and placed my bag in the seat across from him. “Hey,” I say, still standing.

“Hey,” he said. His smile was wide, but his pale blue eyes looked anxious, as if he knew what was coming. I said nothing. He continued to speak. “This was the only place that I could remember going when I came to visit you last, so I figured you would know what I was talking about when I texted you,” he finishes. He was wearing a powder blue Vinyard Vines T-shirt with a backwards Buccaneer's football hat that had stains from the time he dropped it in the lake at summer camp.

“Charlie, why did you come back,” I asked, noticing the iced coffee sitting in front of the seat that was presumably mine. It was my usual order. Of course, he knew. I plopped down into the booth, causing my dress to fly up and my legs to touch the cold, plush leather. I took my jean jacket off as he started to explain himself.

“I was in Ohio visiting my dad, and Kassidy told me that you were still here. I was gonna drive down to Mississippi anyway to visit Jake before going back to school, so I thought I would stop by. I thought maybe we could talk about everything,” he says. I sigh, but he continues. “And I know you. I know what you’re about to say, Audrey. I know, but I think maybe you’re not considering the possibly that maybe we were wrong to end things so suddenly.” I stay silent. I look at his face. His blue eyes. His big nose. His pale skin. I used to love that face. I used to think I would do anything just to see his goofy smile light up that face. But not anymore. His face was starting to fall with my prolonged silence.

What I really wanted to do was to grab my stuff and walk right back through the door. I wanted to get in my car and never come back. I was tired. Tired of having this conversation and tired of dealing with the pain it created every time. I knew I could never be completely honest. If I told him that I still thought about him from time to time when I was lonely, then he would have hope. I couldn’t give him hope. I was also angry. Angry that he couldn’t just leave me alone after he broke up with me. I was angry he couldn’t stick to his decision, and even angrier that he made such a rash decision in the first place. Suddenly, I realized how my momentary silence had turned into a complete stoppage of the conversation, and that, the faster I decided to speak, the faster I could get out of there.

“You can’t keep doing this to me,” I blurted out. He looked as if he was about to cry. Part of me wished he did. He deserved it. The other part of me was praying he held it in, just so we could make the subject of our discussion a little less obvious to the other costumers sitting amongst us. “You made your decision, and now you have to stick with it. It’s unfair to me. And I don’t understand why you think I’ll change my mind. I've made it clear that I'm okay without you, and I’m not coming back.” I knew I sounded harsh, but enough was enough.

“You don’t understand how sorry I am,” he starts.

“No, I do understand,” I cut him off. “Because you should be. You hurt me, and now I’m doing okay and you’re here trying to do it all over again. But not this time, Charlie. Not anymore. I’m not doing this anymore. So, thank you for the coffee. I want you to do well, and I hope you find what you’re looking for. But this isn’t it, not me.” I grabbed my bag and my jacket. I slid out of the booth and picked up the coffee. I have one goal in mind, and it is to make it out of the door before he can conjure up any type of response.

“It is you,” he says, but I’m already halfway out the door. I’m halfway across the parking lot when I realize it’s storming. I start jogging towards my car, coffee spilling over my hand. I open the car door and sit my stuff down on the passenger seat next to me. My hair was soaking wet and my clothes were sticking to my skin. I put my hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead of me. The sky is darker than it was when I arrived. The gray rain clouds had now started to blend in with the sky, making it look like someone had painted my windshield gray. The skyline was blurry from the rain. I felt weird. I felt like I should have been sad, crying even, but, instead, I smiled.