Seasons

coffee | josephine

"Um, can I help you?" I squinted looked at him through my glasses and examined his features.

"Hey, hi. I was, uh, wondering when you got here? No! I mean, are you new here? I just haven't really seen you around before."

This guy is fairly attractive with his greenish-blue eyes and shaggy hair that suits him well.

"Indeed, I'm new here. My name is Josephine, but you can call me Jo." I gave him a genuinely amused smile all at his sudden outburst in attempt to strike a conversation.

"Oh, I'm Jeremiah. You can call me anything you want, really." He then flashed me a toothy grin that made me chuckle at the sight.

"Well, Jeremy," I paused. "Is it alright if I call you that?" He nods in agreement. "I'm in the middle of revising my English notes. Would you maybe want to grab a coffee on my way out in awhile?"

"I'd like that, Jo, do you need help in your revision? I have a few pages of notes on Maya Angelou's biography if you needed help on English Literature?"

"I'd like that very much, thank you."

• • •

The steam of the coffee is distracting me; disappearing each time Jeremiah blows on his mug of black coffee with two sugars.

I didn't know how to start a conversation, much less try to spark up an interesting one at that.

"So, what do you plan on doing after high school?" I mentally cursed myself for being so awkward and boring.

"I'd like to study psychology," he smiled at me with dimples and all.

"Me too," I replied trying to conjure up the same smile.

This boy, he looks so tired -- a deep within the soul kind of exhaustion. I know that this isn't something that you would be able to see as you take just one look at him, but if you look closely, observe him and his overall aura; I'm sure you'd be able to feel his pain, too.

I honestly only noticed his despondent state because I see it in myself too or I might be wrong.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you? I just have a lot on my mind right now. I didn't mea-" I cut him off and said, "no, please don't apologize. You're not boring at all. In fact, I'm quite interested in you."

"Y-you are?" He stuttered.

"But of course, you sound like a nice man." I just tried to form a compliment within seconds and I don't think it sounded right.

"Ha-ha! Thank you, Jo, how sweet of you." He says, blowing more steam away from his coffee.

I took a sip from my glass of Raspberry Mocha, "you have a little something right there," he pointed for a little over two seconds and then reached over to wipe it with the pad of his thumb.

I stared at his warm hand on my cheek, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I smiled, "thanks for that."

"No problem," he replied.

After our little coffee and chat, he walked me to my bike where I left it on the side of the coffee shop. "Would you like a ride home, perhaps?" He offered with complete sincerity in his voice. I merely blush at the thought of this distant memory.

"I'm all good, thank you for the offer." Is what I recall replying to him.

I know that this sounds all too cliché as if it really is as unorthodox as it sounds, but that's what you get with Jeremiah Ferguson -- idealistic, hopeless romanticism.

I know you all want to know if we end up together (spoiler alert: we do), but that doesn't matter in this story right? I'm only supposed to tell you how we got together and the important memories.

Augustus Waters from the book The Fault In Our Stars by John Green once said: "I'm on a rollercoaster that only goes up, my friend."

I'd like to tell you now before you lose all hope on my relationships with Jeremiah that this love story of ours, it isn't a rollercoaster of emotions that only goes up because we clearly have had our rough patches throughout the ongoing years.

But I really do love him, with all my heart at that.

He is the kindest boy you'll meet and he'll love you with his everything.

Which is exactly why I don't deserve him.