I'm smiling. My mother is buying me a sugar cookie and a gingerbread latte. She's complaining about how much my book was, that she wanted for herself anyway. I love it. Because she's only kidding, for once. I turn around for a second. I didn't even feel it coming. But I guess sometimes my psychic powers don't work.

I walk over in a quick slow pace, trying to control the feeling that is in my stomach. That same feeling I got the last time when it happened. I whisper his name, and he turns around, not the least bit surprised. With a weak voice he greets me, and then goes back to his reading. My heart stops. I walk on.

I wonder what happened when he saw me, before I realized he was there. Did his heart stop too? Was my name resounding hauntingly in his head? Did he get flashbacks of forever ago wondering what had changed? What I do now. Who I love now. How I talk now. How different I looked. The makeup I used to wear. How my hair had changed, and my nose piercing. The chest he used to make fun of, how it had gotten bigger. Did he notice? Did he care? I'll never know.

I pretend to read for a bit, getting up a few times, because I was fidgety, and my legs needed to move. All these thoughts overwhelming me. Time passes, I sip my latte when I remember, and try so hard to eat the cookie. I flip through a weird indie mostly asian music magazine. My mother asks if I'm ready to leave. I say yes. I put my books and whatnot away. We are heading out the door and a morose song starts seeping from my iPod. Perfectly in sync with my footsteps and mood. Again, I am the only one to hear the music.