Dusk was approaching, and the weather was pleasant. Brooke was just outside the city limits, heading toward a local cafe that she went to occasionally. Though not technically in Jennings, it was owned by a local couple, and a majority of the customers lived in the town as well.
Having walked there in complete silence, the low conversation inside the small coffee shop was a relief as Brooke went inside the building. The warmth engulfed her, and the smell of steaming fresh beverages was a soothing fragrance. Looking around as she walked toward the counter, she recognized a few people from her classes. She ignored them, as she was almost positive that they did not recognize her. It was nothing new; she had never been well known amongst her peers. It did not bother her, and slipped from her mind in an instant, as she stepped up to tell the young woman what she was ordering.
The door opened, letting in a small draft, and ringing the bell that was tied to the handle. Brooke turned casually to see who it was, and was immediately transfixed by the man she saw enter.
"For here or to go?" asked the young woman taking orders. "Ma'am?"
"Oh, sorry," said Brooke, flushing red from her obvious staring. "For here, thank you."
The woman nodded, and went to make her drink. Not wanting to have to speak to the man, Brooke quickly took a seat in a red leather armchair, awaiting for her order to be ready. Feeling uneasy, she could not help but glance at him. His dark hair was parted down the middle, falling in managed curtains, and hiding part of his face. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, and he wore a simple dark pair of jeans, with a loosely fitting white button-down shirt.
They made eye contact, and Brooke quickly grabbed a magazine that was resting on the table next to her. She stared at the page; holding it too close to her face to actually be able to read it. She looked down, and saw a pair of brown cowboy boots right in front of her. Slowly, she moved the magazine from its obstructing view of her face, and came closer than she pleasured to Andrew Kline.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, leaning down to look at her; his long falling in his eyes.
Internally screaming "no!" Brooke nodded timidly, and put the copy of Seventeen a more natural distance in front of her, as she continued "reading."
"I have your coffee," said Andrew, causing Brooke to jump at his sudden speaking. She closed the magazine, and put it back on the table next to her.
"Thanks," she said, smiling awkwardly, and accepting the drink he handed to her. He kept strong eye contact with her, even after she looked away. It was hard to sit there, knowing that someone was staring at her. Unsure of what else to do, she uncomfortably sipped her coffee, and looked anywhere but at him.
"Listen, I was uh wondering," said Andrew, looking as uncomfortable as Brooke felt, "did your - did your brother mention anything about me before he left? I think he left because of me."
"No, we didn't speak about it, or anything to be honest," said Brooke, staring down at her coffee. "And don't worry, it wasn't you that ran him off, but if it was, I thank you."
"You and your brother-"
"I'd rather not touch the subject," said Brooke, getting angry. "Besides, wouldn't you already know about this stuff? I thought you guys were friends."
"Well, we kind of are," said Andrew, fiddling with his hands. "But I don't know the whole story, no."
As he stared down, he began looking slightly upset. Brooke almost pitied him, as it dawned on her just how many people Bradley had hurt.
"You do realize he was using you, right?" said Brooke flatly. Andrew looked up at her in mild surprise.
"Care to elaborate?" he asked in a slightly quieter voice; his eyebrows raised expressing his curiosity.
"How long had it been since you heard from him, before he showed up on your door just last week?" Brooke inquired, feeling like a detective. It was not a good feeling, but she felt that she needed to provide this man with the truth.
"I don't know," said Andrew, sighing as he tried to remember. "Four, five years? But what does that matter; he moved to a different state, I didn't expect him to be back every weekend."
"Mmm," said Brooke, her voice complimenting her aggravated emotions, "you wouldn't expect something like that, would you? But five years. my my my. You would think there would be a postcard; a letter; an email; something in those five years."
"Look, I know you're mad at him and all, but you don't have to try to get me to turn on him," said Andrew quite calmly, but on the inside he was fuming.
Brooke shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm not trying to get anyone to turn on anyone. Believe it or not, I'm not that kind of person. What I am trying to do is present you with the truth, because I believe that the truth is generally preferable to lies."
Andrew smirked; covering up a laugh. "Nice Dumbledore reference. Harry Potter fan, are we?"
"Since I was kid," said Brooke, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and awkwardly looking down at her lap.
"I never knew that," said Andrew, smiling delicately, as he looked away from Brooke. "Aside from that quite off topic topic," he continued, finally setting normal eye contact on her, "thank you. Thank you for...caring, in your own sort of way."
"No problem," said Brooke quietly, taking a sip of her coffee - which had gone cold - as she felt her nerves disappear.
Andrew nodded. "Also, if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know. If you like need to talk to someone, or just - anything, don't hesitate."
"Oh, well...thank you," said Brooke, not sure how to respond to an offer such as that one.
"And, uh, you seemed kind of tense when I watched you sitting here," said Andrew. His eyes bulged immediately, and his tan cheeks were flushed. "I wasn't watching you! That sounded so creepy. I mean, I was looking in your direction, and now...you're laughing. Why- why are you laughing?"
"I'm so sorry," said Brooke, burying her face in her hands to subdue her laughter. "That was just hilarious. Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, I just...can't stop laughing now."
Andrew joined in on Brooke's hysterical laughing - though he still did not see what was so funny - and soon they had the attention of the entire shop.
Shortly after, Andrew stopped laughing, for he noticed that Brooke was not laughing anymore, but crying.
"Wh- what's wrong?" he asked quietly, leaning forward, trying not to draw attention. "Did I do something? Are you okay?"
"No!" said Brooke through her heavy sobbing, "I'm just a wreck. I've been doing this so often, just randomly breaking into fits of sobbing. I can't control it, and- I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry, maybe I can help?" asked Andrew, hating the fact that she was crying. He felt that it was his fault, even if Brooke did tell him otherwise. He hated seeing anyone crying, and it was especially hard to handle in a public place.
"Thank you, but, I think I'll be okay," said Brooke, after taking a deep breath. She wiped the tears roughly off of her face, and exhaled, trying to regain her sanity. "I really should be going anyway; my coffee's gone cold."
"Oh, mine too," said Andrew, sniffing his drink as if to prove his sincerity. "So much for the three bucks, huh?"
"Yeah..." said Brooke, standing up and straightening her sweater. She began to walk toward the trash can, when he caught her arm gently.
"This is awkward, but I think this whole conversation has been: Could I walk you home? I mean, since we live in the same building, it'll be awkward walking back but pretending like we aren't walking at the same time. Does that make any sense?"
"Not really, but I think I understood the first part," said Brooke, removing herself from his gentle grip, and tossing her half drunken coffee in the trash can. "I'm already high on this crap cup of coffee, so sure, why not?"
Andrew rolled his eyes good-naturedly, as he walked out of the shop with Brooke next to him, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself. Brooke had no idea what made her agree to such a thing. An hour ago, had she not despised the man? And then she was agreeing to walk home with him? If asked, she could not have put her reason into words. The only thing she decided she should do, was to wait and see what happened.
It was dark outside then, and the streets were empty as usual. "Typical Jennings" Andrew commented, as the two began walking down the sidewalk. They were silent for a while as they walked, but it did not bother either of them. It was definitely better than walking alone, they both thought to themselves.
"I think I'm going to go back to school in the beginning of the year," said Andrew, as he strolled with his hands in his pockets. "I never finished college, and it's come back to bite me."
"That's a good idea," said Brooke, satisfied with the topic he had chosen to discuss. "It's hard to find a decent job around here with a college degree; much less without one."
"That's why I want to move," said Andrew, nodding in agreement at her statement.
"Just wondering, why move?" asked Brooke, staring up at the starry sky. It was a change to have someone new to talk to. It opened a whole new door, and she was enjoying herself.
"I've been here my whole life," said Andrew. "It's a fine town, but I'm sick of it. There's nothing here. Absolutely nothing. I want to get out of here, see the world. Do something with my life. I've screwed up everything, and I really want to start changing everything."
Brooke smiled. "That all sounds nice when you say it, but I just don't think like that. And may I ask what made you decide to change?"
Andrew sighed; his exhaled breath creating a fog amidst the cold night weather. "Well," he said, "Bradley."
Brooke raised her eyebrows and snorted involuntarily. "Let me guess," she said, "you saw how screwed up he turned out to be, and you decided you wanted to end up better than that."
Still awaiting a reply, they walked up the steps of the apartment building. They stopped in front of the door to Brooke's apartment, and she looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
"Actually, no," he said, with smiling eyes. "He stepped over the line of fear, and he made something of himself. The damage he inflicted when he stepped over the line? Well, I know your family. This is not the end."
He casually saluted her, and turned to head toward his own apartment. He left Brooke breathless, and beguiled by his words; the last sentence ringing in her ears.