From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) by S. L. Scott Page A

today is about change. I’ll try new things, so I order a frou-frou coffee just to see if I like it any better these days. When I taste it, I quickly decide it’s not my favorite. It’s overly sweet and doesn’t seem to give me the same kick that my usual black coffee does.
    I sit and drink it anyway over the next fifteen minutes, watching customers come and go. Then I see Dylan—and he sees me.
    Awkward.
    Uncomfortable.
    I should leave but that would seem rude. Whoa! Since when did I start caring how I seem to him?
    The debate warring in his head is obvious by the way he shifts as he glances between me and the coffee counter. Surprisingly, I win this round, but I wonder by how much.
    “Hi,” Dylan says tentatively, no smile, testing the waters.
    “Hi.” I look down and he walks away.
    The barista flirts with him. That brings back so many memories, so many naïve dreams of us that I once held onto so tightly. I’m free of such frivolous notions now. Wiser .
    Completely distracted by him, I watch his exchange with the barista. He’s friendly to her, smiling. I wonder if he’s flirting? We didn’t flirt much, we didn’t have to. We were a couple the minute we met. I don’t tell the story that way because it felt like it evolved over those first few months, but it didn’t. There was no other—just me, just him, us, a couple.
    I determine he’s not flirting, just being polite, not overly, but appropriately so. When he turns back to me, his expression is more controlled and he slowly walks over. He sits down at a table near mine, but we don’t talk.
    As he plays on his phone, I can hear the Words with Friends bubbly sounds projected, his move accepted. Makes me wonder who his friends are these days. Do I know them?
    Turning to the window, I notice how empty the street is. Empty—a lot like the feeling between us now. I steal a glimpse back at him and then look down at the untouched scone in front of me. I thought I wanted it, but I don’t.
    “Do you play?” he asks, drawing my attention.
    I glance at his phone displaying the game on the screen, then up to his eyes. “Are you trying to make casual conversation, Dylan?”
    Leaning forward, he puts his elbows down on the table and scrubs his hands over his face, frustrated. “How about I’m trying, period?” He snaps.
    “If it’s for my benefit, you don’t need to.”
    “Why not?”
    I don’t face him, not feeling strong enough to do that just yet. I sip my coffee, hoping to find some strength in the weak brew, but reply, “Because we’re both here at the same time doesn’t mean we need to talk.”
    “What if I want to talk to you?”
    “I don’t owe you anything.” I stand up, taking the scone and my mug with me. I put the mug in the dish bin and toss the scone in the trash on my way out the door.
    “Jules?”
    Here we go again. “You don’t take a hint, do you?”
    He laughs, catching up and walking beside me like he has the right to do so. “Hints aren’t needed. You’ve been more than obvious about how you feel about me. But I have things that I want to say.”
    I stop, crossing my arms and look at him. “You have some nerve showing up here. You think because we ran into each other at a restaurant that suddenly what? We need to be best friends? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? What are you doing? Why are you here? Did you come to the coffee shop because you knew I would be here? I don’t understand this sudden interest in me? What are you doing, Dylan?”
    He looks deep into my eyes, exactly where I’ve tried so hard to keep him from going. No one is allowed to that place inside me anymore, especially not him. I instantly drop my gaze to his shoes. They’re casual sneakers, but nice.
    “Jules, I’ve said before. I don’t know why I’m here. I just want to be near you. You’re on my mind, fucking with me.”
    “I’m fucking with you?” I walk away too annoyed to stay and listen to any of this bullshit.
    “Jules.”
    “No. Don’t!”