Cassie
I haven’t been to Cup O’ Joes since Grayson and I broke up, and sitting here for the first time in almost a year, I remember why.
Everything about this place reminds me of when we dated.
I remember the first time I met him, when he bought my coffee and asked for my number and made me blush with his unapologetic gaze.
I remember watching him play a set, looking around the room at the way the girls visibly swooned with every note he played and every word he sang.
I remember sitting in this very seat, at this very table in the back corner of the room, so I could watch but not be watched.
Of course, Grayson never let me slide under the radar for long. He loved to call attention to me when he was on stage, or as soon as he got off stage, striding back to me and wrapping me in a hug or planting a big kiss on my lips to let everyone in that room know he was taken.
At least, that’s what I’d thought.
My stomach sours when I remember something else — that the entire time I’d trusted him, he’d been lying to me.
Shaking that thought off, I take a sip of my coffee, reveling in the sweet taste of their famous caramel mocha that I haven’t had since Grayson and I broke up. I’ve missed it, and the atmosphere of the shop, with students studying and chatting and listening to Grayson play.
He’s on stage, crooning out a Maroon 5 song and winking at every girl who casts her wide-eyed gaze up at him. I can’t help but chuckle, noting that while he’s changed, some things never will.
It’s Monday evening, the first day back on campus for most students who went away for the Thanksgiving holiday.
With the sun setting earlier now, it’s completely dark in the shop, save for the dim industrial lighting and the candles at each table.
With Grayson singing and strumming his guitar and the Christmas lights already being hung across campus, there’s a feel of the holiday season in the air, and I breathe into it with a smile.
Grayson asked me to come watch him play while we were walking out of lab earlier.
He wanted me to be there when he played his newest song, the one he’d been writing and giving me previews of for the past few weeks.
I agreed, of course, and invited Adam to join me — which I knew he appreciated as much as he hated.
He doesn’t love Grayson and me being friends, but he understands it. He respects it. And that means more to me than he could ever know.
I’m excited for him to see that Grayson and I really are just friends, that anything there was between us is firmly in the past. I hope it will set his mind at ease.
And hey, he can kiss me right here in front of Grayson and everyone else.
I don’t mind him claiming his territory.
Heat flushes my cheeks at the thought of his kiss, the kind that always burns me and leaves a mark, and I check my watch anxiously. He should have been here by now.
Grayson announces he’s going to take a little break, and when he comes back, he’ll play a brand-new song. That earns applause and hoots and hollers from just about every girl in the place, and when I look around, I wonder how many of them are here for Grayson, alone.
His hair is tied at the back of his neck, and he’s dressed in a leather jacket, forest green relaxed-fit t-shirt and dark jeans. His combat boots set off the rock-star look, and he strides toward me with an easy smile, like he doesn’t realize every girl’s neck is breaking to watch him as he passes.
“Great set,” I say when he sits at the table. “Want me to get you a coffee?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, the barista drops off a hot Earl Grey tea and a tall glass of ice water. “The usual, Grayson,” she says, casting me a cautious glance before she smiles at him again. “You were great up there. Can’t wait to hear the new song.”
“I’ll play it just for you, Wendy.”
She bites her lip on a flush, excusing herself without another word.
When Grayson looks at me, he shrugs. “What?”
“Just watching Casanova in action,” I say, chuckling.
“Hey, I’m just being nice.”
“Mm-hmm.” I sip my coffee. “So, your parents know you still play here?”
His eyes darken with the question, and he dunks the bag of tea a few times, watching it steep. “Yeah. Dad says he doesn’t care, as long as I’ve let go of my fantasy and am getting good grades.”
“I’m sorry, Grayson.”
He shrugs. “It’s whatever. As long as I keep working on the plan they think is best for me, I can play my music. And that’s all that matters to me.”
“Do you think you’ll go back to music once you graduate?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know. I want to, of course, but… I mean, maybe it really is a fantasy. Look how many musicians never make a name for themself.”
“Do you have to make a name for yourself?” I ask, sitting up straighter when he looks at me confused. “I mean, what if it was always just like this. You and your guitar, small coffee shops, playing music and making people feel good.”
Grayson nods. “That’d be alright, I think.”
“Then maybe you can have both — the life they want for you, and the life you want, too.”
“I guess I never considered that the two could marry.”
I shrug. “Just a thought.”
“You always were smarter than me.”
I scoff at that, biting my tongue to resist the urge to point out that I wasn’t smart enough to know he was cheating on me all along.
My next sip of coffee is bitter. Why the hell do I still care? Why does that thought still bubble to the surface every time I’m with Grayson, making me feel prickly as a cactus?
I frown.
Will my new friendship with Grayson always be shadowed by that cloud of betrayal?
“What’s on your mind?”
I blink, clearing my throat when I realize Grayson has been watching me. “Nothing.”
“You’ve also always been a terrible liar.”
“I guess I was just thinking. This place brings back a lot of memories.”
Grayson’s face slacks. “Yeah. It does for me, too.”
The way he watches me now is with a longing so fierce, I feel it like a vibration in the air. I swallow, looking away from him and out at the quad where students are dressing the giant Christmas tree they put up there every year.
“I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas. This semester has flown by.”
“Cassie, don’t change the subject.”
I frown, looking back at him. “I didn’t realize we were on a subject.”
“The shop. The memories.” He pauses. “You and me.”
“Uh…”
Grayson scoots his chair closer to mine, his eyes earnest as they watch me intently, and warning bells ring loud and shrill in my ears.
Oh no…
“I invited you tonight because I wanted to see if you felt it, too — the rush of what we used to be. Because every time I walk through those doors, every time I play here… it takes me under like a tidal wave.”
“Grayson,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I just came here to support you. As a friend.”
“You and I have never been friends,” he says, covering my knee with his hand. “And you know it.”
I swat his hand away quickly, scooting back. “Grayson. Stop. Now. I mean it.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t miss me,” he hisses, frowning and shaking his head like I’m in denial. “I see it. I feel it. And whatever is going on between you and Adam, it’s not what we had.”
“You’re right,” I say. “It’s so much more than what you and I could ever have even hoped to have.” I scoff, my chest on fire. “God, I can’t believe I fell for this. I can’t believe I thought you actually, genuinely wanted to be my friend.”
“I do want to be your friend,” he argues, scooting his chair closer again.
Mine is pinned now, and I curse myself for picking that same back corner table I’d always sat at before.
“But I want to be more, too. I want you back. I want to prove to you that I’m the one you should be with — not that asshat. ”
“I love him,” I whisper-yell. “How dare you say these things to me. I stood up for you, you know that? When you didn’t deserve it.
When Adam questioned me. When he told me I was an idiot for thinking you could ever be just my friend.
” My mouth falls open, and I shake my head in disbelief at my own stupidity. “He was right. How did I not see it?”
“He sees what I see. What I know you see, too.” Grayson puts his hand on my knee again, and this time when I try to swat it away, it doesn’t budge.
“We’re meant for each other, Cassie. And I’m not letting up until you realize you never stopped loving me, and I never stopped loving you, and this — you and me — we’re real. We’re inevitable.”
He takes his hand off my knee, but then it moves for my face, sliding back into my hair with his lips on track for mine.
I rip away, panic searing my chest. “Grayson, no!”
Crack.
I don’t register what’s happened, not until I blink several times, taking in the people gasping and screaming around us.
And then I see Grayson on the floor.
And Adam on top of him, fist in the air, ready to plow it back into Grayson’s already bleeding nose.
“Adam, don’t!” I scream, flying out of my chair and down to him. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull, knowing I wouldn’t be able to budge him unless he actually wanted to be budged.
Luckily, he lets me pull him up to stand, but his chest is heaving, glare murderous, his eyes nearly popping out of his head as he stares down at Grayson. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER,” he screams, grabbing him by the shirt. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY GIRL.”
Grayson spits a mouthful of blood to the side before grinning up at Adam. “My girl, first.”
A growl rips through Adam, and he lays another crack to Grayson’s jaw before I can stop him.
I’m screaming and crying and tearing at him to let Grayson go.
When he finally does, it’s to the tune of the manager yelling for us to take it outside or she’d call campus police.
And so, Adam drops his grip, letting Grayson fall back onto the floor.
Then, he storms out without even looking back at me.
I scramble to get my purse where it’s hanging off the back of my chair, plucking a twenty out and leaving it on the table before I fly out after Adam. He’s already halfway across the quad, and I scream his name over and over, jogging to catch up.
It’s not until we’re by the reflection pond that Adam stops and turns, and when the weight of his gaze hits me, I stumble back, eyes blurring as I cover my mouth.
“Adam, it’s not what you think.”
“Oh, it’s not?” he challenges, stepping into my chest as I shrink away. He points a finger back at the shop. “So that wasn’t your so-called friend hitting on you, touching you, trying to kiss you?”
I cringe. “I swear, I didn’t do anything.”
“No, you didn’t. But that motherfucker sure as hell did.”
“I told him not to touch me. I told him to stop.”
Adam roars out a growl that makes the students walking by us glance our direction with wide eyes before they scurry off. He throws his hands up in the air, lacing them over his head as he paces.
“What did I tell you? Huh?” Adam throws his arms out toward me, and I wince at his already swollen and bruised knuckles from where he hit Grayson.
“I told you he didn’t want to just be your friend.
I told you he wanted more, that he had something up his sleeve.
But you didn’t believe me. You picked him over me. ”
“That’s not fair,” I defend. “I didn’t pick anyone.”
“Yes,” he argues, stepping into my space again.
“Yes, you fucking did. You may not have said the words I choose Grayson over you, but that’s exactly what you made clear when you told me you wouldn’t choose me.
When you dug your heels in and proved that being friends with that asshole who cheated on you was more important than making me feel safe and comfortable. ”
“You’re friends with Skyler!” I scream out, desperation flowing through me. I know the argument is weak before I even finish making it. “How is this not the same?”
“SKYLER DOESN’T TRY TO MAKE OUT WITH ME!”
My nose flares, and I look around at the attention we’re calling, reaching out for Adam to calm him.
But he backs away before I can connect.
His chest heaves with the next breath, and he beats on it like an ape.
“I don’t hang out with Skyler after every single fucking class.
Hell, I don’t even hang out with her period — not anymore, not unless we’re in a group setting in the same place.
And if you asked me right now, right here, to not be friends with her because it made you uncomfortable?
” He shakes his head, as if it’s obvious.
“I would never see her again. No questions asked.”
“Adam,” I beg, eyes blurring. “I’m sorry. Okay? I was wrong. I thought…” My voice is strangled, and I shake my head. “I… I really thought…”
“That he wanted to be your fucking friend? That you two would braid each other’s hair and drink coffee and study together and he wouldn’t be using every minute to plan how to get your panties on his bedroom floor?”
My chin quivers. “Okay. You’ve made your point.”
“Have I?” He steps into me, staring down his nose. “What’s my point, Cassie?”
“I didn’t kiss him!” I say loudly, pressing my hands into his chest. “Okay? I didn’t come onto him or ask for any of that back there. I didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t control what he did, but why are you so fucking mad at me?”
Adam watches me for a long time, breathing slowly, eyes dancing between mine. After a while, he shakes his head, looking at me like I disgust him, like I’m an idiot he feels sorry for, like he can’t believe he ever trusted me.
“I’m not mad, Cassie,” he says, his voice soft, resigned. “I’m tired.”
“Of what?” I ask, throwing my hands out, exasperated.
“Of choosing you when you refuse to choose me back.”
I frown, my next breath stuttering out of my chest like the exhaust of a busted old car. His words slice me into ribbons, each piece of me cut so thin and weak that I’m afraid I might blow away in the next breeze.
I hurt him.
I hurt the boy I love.
And all for what?
“Adam, I’m so—” I try, reaching for him, but he just shakes his head, giving me one last hurt look before he turns and walks away.
I cover my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and freeing the tears before I open them again and watch him walk away from me, his hands in his pockets, head hanging between his shoulders.
And I just let him go.
Because I know in that moment that I don’t deserve to ask him to stay.