Coffee with Kat

She goes and puts that red bar thingy across her steering wheel so no one will steal it while I climb into the passenger seat. I wanna kick myself because I’m still crying, but I don’t think my legs would bend that way. She gets into the car and smiles at me as if this is a totally normal thing. I close my eyes against the new waterfall of tears that come from seeing the smile in her eyes…Kat’s eyes… I stare out the window, resolutely never meeting her eyes during the entire ride.

She turns on the radio and “Sweet Child of Mine” is playing, my hand shoots out and practically breaks the off button as I turn off the radio. She shoots a horrified look at me, but I just keep staring out the window, crying because that was our song.

“How do you take your coffee?” She asks when we get there.

“Black.” I say dully and wander off to a table in the corner; she just smiles and goes to order.

“What was her name?” she asks softly when she sits down.

“Kat,” I murmur brokenly. “Her name was Kat.”

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