Abby sat there in thought. Her mind curious on the guy at the next table, and not the one sitting across from her.
   Taylor watched her, and sighed softly. She did this to him… all the time; he'd lost count by now.
   "Oh my, God." She whispered just loudly enough for Taylor and the other guy to hear her.
   Taylor quirked an eyebrow, questioning her comment.
   She quickly pointed to the girl walking into the café. Leaning in, she murmured, "I absolutely despise Fila." Her head shook sadly and stared at the innocent girl.
   Her face had turned shades of red, deepening as others turned to stare as well. Taylor felt her humiliation with her. His cheeks flushing darkly with the red stains.
   She had run out in mortification and yet Abby continued on, "Ever since that shirt I had of theirs, it completely destroyed my Hilfiger shirt and jeans when they got washed together. And the washing directions didn't even say the colors would bleed!" She looked absolutely revolted about that incident.
   Sitting quietly, Taylor thought hard about what had drawn him to her in the first place. Was it the short blonde hair of hers, the fact that her eyes were as blue as his, the perfection that radiated from her? She changed so much since they first met.
   It was a friend of a friend's brother's party, and he was not comfortable being there at all. But she had talked to him. Had broken away from her girl-group and started chatting him up as if she'd known him all her life.
   Her eyes lit up with interest when he talked of writing and drawing, she had made the comment of being an amateur poet and interested in clothes designing and absolutely loved drawing out new clothes and different styles. She fascinated him.
   They hung out the rest of the night and he asked for her number. He had called the next day, surprising her. She laughed and joked about how she was thinking about him not calling and he laughed quietly along with her, but made the statement that he was different. She had readily agreed and that filled him with an odd sense of happiness.
   It was great spending time with her, doing a lot; movies, games, shopping, parties, concerts and even a couple of plays. She made the time go by so fast when he was with her, when her hand was encased by his.
   Her smile was always quick and mischievous; her wit was sharp and humorous. He liked her. A lot.
   It was only when he made them official and had spent some of his time away doing his "job" that she started changing. Her attitude, aspirations, and even style altered drastically.
   The smile was always in place always cool and uncaring, her clothes shorter and tighter, and as far as he knew she no longer wrote or drew anything, or if she did she never shared it. What bothered him the most was that he no longer seemed to be a main thing in her life, getting her to come to the café today was nothing short of him bribing her.
   Shaking his head he stood up, she only dragged her eyes away from the other guy when she saw him putting money down for their meals and the tip.
   Her eyes asked the silent question and he shrugged his shoulders, "We aren't what we used to be, Abby."
   She blinked slowly before nodding carefully. "We were good together for a while." Her voice whispered quietly.
   Taylor nodded in agreement, "We were."
   "We almost loved each other." She added.
   He gave a soft laugh, "I did." He laughed again, only it was sharper, sarcastic, "But I didn't get you to love me back."
   "You almost did."
   "Almost doesn't count, Abby. Even you told me that at the beginning; when I almost won that award, when you almost got that scholarship."
   Her eyes snapped up to his, and Taylor caught sight of the Old Abby. His heart ached for her again, but he shook his head. "I'll see you around, Abby."
   She nodded again, weakly. Pain evident in her body language. "See you..."