"I already know what I'm getting you."

Jean looked over at Anthony from the passenger seat, waiting for him to continue. He didn't though; he didn't even give her the satisfaction of looking at her. He kept his eyes on the road, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a smile.

She sighed. He was constantly teasing her. However, it was hard not to get excited as she anticipated what he was hinting at. "And that is?"

Anthony glanced over just long enough to wink at her before turning his eyes back to the road. Jean tried her best to suppress her own smile as she shook her head in blissful frustration. One of her favorite things about him was he had always talked about their future together like it was already written. He knew what she wanted, and right now, it seemed like things were finally working out where she just might get it.

She was the first person he called when he found out he got the job. Jean had run out to the parking lot at her work so she could scream with him over the phone. Graduation was in just a few weeks, and he would start his sports marketing job in the new year. He had talked about this job since she met him, and he was motivated enough to actually reach his dreams.

Christmas was just over a month away, and while he apparently knew what he was getting her, she was at a loss. How would anything she got him compare to the MLB giving him his dream job?

When she saw he wasn't going to give in and tell her, she smirked out her window. "You're the absolute worst, you know that?"

Anthony shrugged. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I'm getting you."

"Would you just tell me?" she laughed, exhausted as she pressed the side of her face into her headrest as she faced him. She knew he wouldn't, and she didn't want him to; it was supposed to be a surprise.

"No, I want you to guess."

Jean sighed deeply, giving into his games. "A pack of bobby pins. A sweater. Perhaps a candle, if I'm lucky." She spoke in a dull monotone, not able to stay in character when she made him laugh.

He punched his steering wheel in mock aggravation, the smile that still continued to melt her heart spread across his face. "Dang, that obvious?"

She shrugged, putting up her hands. "You're always complaining I leave my bobby pins at your house. I'm always in need of more. Seemed like the obvious gift choice."

He pulled into the parking lot and reached over to shift the car in park. He leaned back against the seat and his eyes searched hers. Her stomach flipped at the way he was looking at her.

"I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you always have enough bobby pins."

"This is what I'm talking about!" Jean yelled. He already had his arms up in defense as she playfully smacked his arm. "You're the worst, and you know it."

He was grinning when he caught her hand midair and brought it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

She relaxed, trying to imagine the joy she'd feel if he asked her to spend his life with her. She couldn't fathom it. It was hard enough to get over the joy he made her feel in moments like this. She wished he could drive her to work everyday; maybe starting her shift on a good note would make the job more bearable.

She took off her seatbelt, but hesitated as she looked through the windshield at the old coffee shop. As long as she'd worked here, it'd been a while since she really took notice of what the building looked like from the outside.

"I don't wanna work," she whispered, staring at the fence that boxed in the patio.

"Quit."

"And do what?"

"Stay home, watch TV."

She rose her eyebrows. "Get evicted, become homeless."

Anthony chuckled at her response. "Don't worry, I'll be making tons of money soon."

She pressed on. "What's that have to do with me?"

When he still refused to say anything, but instead flashed that smile that made her thank the heavens he was hers, she had had enough. Smiling, she opened the car door to leave. Having one foot out the door, Anthony grabbed her hand and pulled her back in. He cupped the side of her face and pulled her in to press his lips to hers.

"I love you," he said when he pulled back, kissing her quickly on the cheek. "Now go. Managers shouldn't be late."

After all this time he still made her head spin. She felt like she was walking on air as she walked into the shop, knowing Anthony was watching her leave.

***

The bliss was short-lived.

Jean tried to hide her face as much as possible when Laney VanOrden walked into the cafe to order something. She knew she couldn't hide forever; she was the only person working and no matter how much she avoided eye contact, she would know who she was. She often had this problem around the holidays; everyone was back in town with their family. It had been six years since she graduated high school, but she could still feel the tension as her former classmate made her way to the counter.

Laney pretended like Jean was a stranger she had never met, and Jean did the same. She did this often with people from her past who were no longer relevant in her life. It's not like they were ever friends, and she probably didn't say more than two sentences to her in their entire school career, but she knew her name. And she knew that Laney knew hers, but for now it was just easier just to pretend.

Jean gave her her coffee and wished her a good day. She walked away and sat with a group of other girls who Jean didn't recognize. Maybe she had met them at college or work.

She wondered what Laney was doing with her life. She was probably another success story, getting a job as a nurse or teacher. Every six months, she saw the online posts of everyone in their black robes, holding their college diplomas, talking about how it was the first day of the rest of their lives. For Jean, not much of it had changed.

She tried not to stare at Laney too much, but her back was turned and she couldn't help but note how perfect her hair was. She was surrounded by friends, laughing as she sipped her mocha. Jean sometimes worked with a couple girls who were, on average, around seven years younger than her, the oldest of which being a college freshman. Jean was the oldest besides the owner, Terry. How long would she be here?

Unfortunately for her, she didn't see a change anytime in the near future.

She wondered if Laney was thinking about her. Pitying her, thinking Wow, you're STILL here? Did she think she was deadbeat? She saw the diamond ring sparkling on Laney's left hand when she picked up her coffee cup. Of course she's engaged. Jean looked down at own barren hand, saw the whipped cream on the back of it, and wiped it on a nearby towel.

No. Laney wasn't thinking any of that. Jean knew it for a fact; she wasn't thinking about Jean at all. It wouldn't be surprising if she truly just didn't remember her. She wasn't really someone that was memorable, especially in high school. Too thin, pale hair. Too afraid to talk to anyone she wasn't already friends with. Jean remembered Laney because she was outgoing, exuberant. Her long dark hair went halfway down her back and suited her tan skin and giant brown eyes. It wasn't surprising someone was so quick to put a ring on her finger. She was someone you could remember.

Jean pulled herself away from her thoughts and focused on cleaning. For once she wished more people would come through the door so she could stop focusing on Laney VanOrden.

She scrubbed the sticky counter as hard as she could. Typically if no one was ordering, she would walk around and talk to a couple of the people who were there. The owner, Terry, formerly known as Mrs. Benters before she retired from the high school, encouraged homeliness and encouraged making connections with the guests. Jean was happy Terry wasn't there today. She would never understand why Jean wasn't in the mood to make small talk with her old classmate. Right now, she would rather scrub layers of sticky residue off of the counters and behind coffee pots.

The bell on the door rang and Jean glanced up to see Jasmine bounding through the door. Jean heaved a sigh of relief as she came and sat directly at the bar in front of her. It wasn't surprising she had come to visit --she came nearly everyday for free coffee--but Jean needed her more in this moment than she'd ever needed her before.

"What can I get you, cheapskate," Jean said, cracking a smile as she continued to scrub the counters. She wanted so badly to tell Jasmine what Anthony was hinting at before her shift,  but didn't want to be wrong or jinx it by saying it out loud.

"I don't know," Jasmine whined, twisting back and forth on the barstool as her eyes read the menu above Jean's head. "What haven't I tried yet?"

"I'm pretty sure you've had everything on the menu at least three times."

"Probably. I'll have the usual then."

Jean started getting her drink together and glanced up at Laney, who didn't seem to hear anything they had said. Jasmine followed Jean's eyes and twisted in her chair before turning back to Jean with wide, surprised eyes.

"Is that Laney?" she mouthed. Jean gave a faint nod. She smiled as she pressed the drink.

"That's why I'm happy you showed up," Jean said quietly.

Jasmine watched Jean's hands as she prepared her drink and topped it with whipped cream. She rested her head in her hand and reached over and take a swab of whipped cream on her finger. "Jean, you have to work here forever. You can never leave."

"Thanks, it's looking that way."

Jean didn't know why Laney's presence was bothering her so much. She wished she would just leave. She had never done anything to Jean, and she was probably a decent person, but Jean just didn't know her. She was probably just jealous, but regardless, she tried not to think too much about it.

"Are you going to Anthony's family's house for Thanksgiving?" Jasmine asked.

"What else would I be doing?" Jean laughed.    

Jasmine just shrugged, but didn't say anything else.

Jean knee what Jasmine was thinking. She didn't like to talk about it, and Jasmine had learned not to press the issue. Her family was complicated, and it was easier to just avoid the topic altogether.

Her parents never asked what her plans were. Of course, Jean never reached out to them either, but she didn't feel like it should be her job to ask. Wasn't it the parents job to reach out to their only daughter? The whole thing would be strange anyways. They were all strangers. They always had been. She would rather be alone than spend one day in either of their presence.

It only took one look at Jean's fallen expression for Jasmine to intercede. "Anyways, if you need somewhere, my house is always open. My parents love you."

Jean smirked. "That's good to know." She looked up to meet her eyes. "Thank you, Jasmine. It means a lot."

She glanced up to see Laney and her entourage gathering their things and heading towards the door. Jean called out for her to have a good night, and Laney gave a weak thanks in response without looking. When the door closed, Jean widened her eyes at Jasmine, who was already shaking her head.

"We hate her," Jasmine said, looking to Jean to confirm.

"I guess."

"Why, though?"

Jean froze and looked through the window as Laney laughed with her friends as she got into the car. Jean didn't have an answer.

"They're probably talking about us. That's why they're laughing," Jasmine said, only half serious, her eyes narrowing as she watched the car door slam.

"Right," Jean said, picking up the towel and continuing her cleaning where she left off. "Kinda like what we're doing right now."

She knew she didn't hate Laney. She hated the fact that she was still working here even though they both started out in the same place. They were the same age, walked the same stage for high school graduation. The only difference was Laney's parents were probably in the crowd that day.

Jean knew she could have done more. She could have made it work between school and her job, but she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. So instead, she gave up. She assumed college would always be an option, but the longer time went on, the more she realized how hard it was to leave what was familiar. She was already working full-time, living paycheck to paycheck; how was she supposed to make it work? 

She thought about the ring on Laney's finger and looked at her own hand again. Hopefully soon, she would at least have that.

People always seemed to think more of you when you were in a relationship.