The Ways We Say Goodbye Chapter one Jamie flipped the page of her book, the rough edge grazing her finger softly. “Here,” her neck snapped up, smiling as the waitress placed the cup of coffee in front of Jamie with a low thud. “Thank you,” she spoke softly, rubbing her hands around the warmth of the mug. Steam graced her face, contrasting the cool, autumn air blowing through swaying trees outside. The forest-green booth seat was plush and velvety, and felt nice as she propped her feet up on it, legs drawn to her chest. Her attention drifted back to the pages, deep, chocolate brown eyes scanning over the words; line by line. Jamie soaked books up like a sponge. “Hey.” He barked, chuckling when she jumped. She recognized him immediately: the way his messy blonde hair hung below his hazel-green eyes in a soft curl, and the way the dimple on his chin was tattooed like a fingerprint in clay when he smiled, or the way his skin stretched over his sharp, defined jawline when he laughed. Dean. “God,” she groaned, carefully slotting the bookmark in between the pages. “Haha. You jumped.” Dean slid into the seat opposite her, his displeased frown smoothening out to a wicked grin. “Why are you here?” “To scare you.” He shrugged. “You’re here just to scare me?” Jamie clarified. “Why not?” He asked, pulling her steamy coffee over to him. Dean’s lips skimmed the glass as he tilted it, light brown coffee rolling into his mouth. “Mmm, that’s good,” he confirmed. “Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I bought it.” Jamie spoke flatly, fighting back a smile. That would just feed into his ego. “You should buy this.” He ignored her previous sentence. “I did,” she scoffed. “Riiight.” Dean clicked his tongue, raising the mug up to his mouth again. Half of the coffee was gone–might as well order another. She frowned. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Aria Crews, Dean’s popular girlfriend. Dean wasn’t popular, but he wasn’t unpopular. He was just… Dean. Jamie’s friend. Jamie’s best-friend. “Oh,” he began, “Ari’s in Montreal. Visiting her grandmother.” He nodded. “Ohh.” Jamie added for effect. “Got it.” “Yup.” Dean took another gulp of her coffee, sticking out his bottom lip to pout when he realized it was empty. He pounded the bottom of the mug with the palm of his hand to squeeze out every last drop of bitter goodness. His eyes glimmered with hints of emerald as they shone underneath the warm, cafe lighting. “Do you need anything?” The waitress appeared back at their table, grinning happily. Her jet-black hair was messy, strands hanging loose in the front while the rest was tied up into a curly, thick bun at the top of her head. “Yes,” Jamie said. “One more coffee please.” The waitress shot her a sympathetic smile as Dean hammered the last mouthwatering drops of coffee into his dry mouth. “Don’t worry about it,” she snickered, disappearing behind the corner. “Just to clarify,” Dean began, “I don’t feel any remorse for drinking your coffee.” His expression was just that–deadpan. “Yeah, I can tell.” Jamie groaned, flipping her book open. Fireworks exploded in her stomach, and she couldn’t tell them to shut up. Dean made her feel things, things she didn’t want to feel. And couldn’t feel. Because Dean had a girlfriend, and he belonged to her. Not Jamie. And she never would.
