Coffee & Apple Pie.

She was broken-hearted again. Nick didn't know what it was about the girl, but she always seemed to be on the bad end of a relationship. She hadn't had a relationship last more than four months since their freshman year of high school, and even that had ended horribly. It simply seemed like his best friend couldn’t catch a break.

He watched her from where he sat in the booth across from her, a sad smile on her face as she looked down into the murky depths of her cup filled with black coffee. Her knuckles were white due to the tight grip she held on the ceramic material, and he knew she was trying her best not to cry. She had wasted too many tears on him, if anyone knew that, it was Nick. He knew that girl better than anyone.

“I honestly don’t know what I did wrong this time,” she muttered, the defeated undertone unmistakable even in the soft words. He hated that, hated that she always sounded so lost, hated that she sounded so alone. She was never alone, not when Nick was there. She dated the worst guys, guys with drug problems that used her for her money, guys that cheated on her constantly, guys that simply just didn't care. Nick always cared, though. Nick was always there to pick up the broken pieces of his best friend’s heart, no matter the time of day or night.

They always met at the same place, the 24-hour diner on 97th street that she used to work at. The people knew them by name and often weren’t surprised when they showed up at roughly one o’clock in the morning, always preparing their orders (two cups of coffee and a piece of apple pie for Nick that Jennifer almost always ended up eating half of anyways) as soon as they saw them walk through the glass doors, the bell above signaling their arrival. They sat in the same booth every time, the one in the back on the right, across from the bathrooms. It was secluded and close enough to the restrooms that if during their time there Jennifer managed to mess up her makeup, she was able to fix it inconspicuously. The leather seats always squeaked as they slid into them and the blinds on the window next to them had been missing for a while, but it was familiar.

Nick rolled his eyes as he looked away from his friend, casting his eyes instead to the crumbling piece of pie in front of him. It was falling apart, just like his friend, and he didn't know what he could do. He had told her countless times that she was good enough, that she couldn’t please everyone and should start focusing on pleasing herself instead. She was unhappy, anyone could see it, but Nick saw it up close. Nick saw the bags under her eyes and the creases in her forehead due to the fact that her brow was always furrowed. He saw the reality behind her fake smile, and every time, he wished he didn't. He wished that she was still the same, carefree girl she was before high school, before guys started noticing her, started using her. He wished they were fourteen again, when the hardest part of their lives was the algebra packet Mrs. Stanza found necessary to hand out every Friday afternoon. But now Nick was gone all the time and Jennifer was holed up in her apartment, studying for a test or writing a paper. The only times they really saw each other were the times when she called him at midnight, asking him to meet her at the diner in an hour, leaving just enough time in between to clean herself up and wash away the evidence that she’d been crying for hours, even though he always knew. He knew everything about her, even the things she thought she could hide, even the things she tried to hide from herself.

“I mean, I try so hard, ya know? I did whatever he wanted; I gave him whatever he wanted. I skipped classes for him, and what did I get in return?” Nick looked up at the sound of her voice, a sigh on the tip of his tongue as he waited for her to continue. “I get a lousy note on my bedside table telling me that he “can’t do this anymore.” What does that even mean? I was the one doing everything.” She shook her head, her dirty blonde hair falling in her eyes before she lifted a manicured hand to push it back. No matter what her position, she always managed to look her best. It was snowing buckets outside, and even in something as plain as a black pea coat, a scarf that Nick had bought her wrapped tight around her neck, and a pair of skinny jeans on her petite frame, she managed to brighten the dark diner with her beauty.

Nick let out his sigh, trying not to let the irritation show as he spoke:

“Well what do you expect, Jenny? You let these guys walk all over you and then act surprised when they walk right out the door. You're just a game to them, can’t you see that?”

She visibly cringed at his words, tears building in her eyes as the truth hit her for the first time. Nick had never spoken to her like that, he had always sugar-coated his actual opinions about her love life because he didn't want to hurt her further, not when she was already hurt so badly. But he couldn’t keep denying the fact that it was her fault, at least a little, maybe even his fault for not setting her straight.

“Not every guy you meet is going to be Mr. Right, especially not the guys you pick up. I know you want them to be, and I know you try so hard, but don’t you think it’s time for a change? Wait until you finish school, until you move out of that crappy apartment. I don’t care how long you wait, but I'm sick of getting these phone calls, Jenny. I’m sick of seeing you cry over some guy who barely even knows you, or some guy who takes you for granted. You have to know deep down that you deserve better.” It might not have been the nicest approach, but Nick knew that it was the only way to get through to her, even if it made her angry, even if it made her cry.

Jennifer took a deep breath as she looked back down at the table, gripping her cup even tighter. She felt like she had been through every guy in Massachusetts, or at least every guy in Braintree. Maybe there was no hope for her.

“Don’t you think I know that, Nick? Don’t you think I know that I'm not a good judge of character, after all of this? I keep hoping that, even if he seems like Mr. Wrong when we first meet, he’ll turn into Mr. Right somewhere along the line. There’s a little bit of good in everyone, isn’t there?” Jenifer had always lived her life like that, trying to fix people, make them better, trying to help them with their problems. She was too caring for her own good, too easily manipulated. She was the perfect girl to take advantage of, and it’s like sometimes she didn't even realize it. She didn't even realize how special she was, how much she deserved. She thought of herself like everyone else, but to Nick, she was so much more than that.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. It was damp from the snow outside, and he was terribly dreading the drive home. He shook his head of these thoughts as he looked at Jenny, a deep frown consuming his lips.

“You can’t just hope that some guy will be the right one for you, babe. He either is or he isn’t. If he doesn’t tell you you’re beautiful every day, he's not right for you. If he can’t tell when you're happy or sad or angry, he's not right for you. If he doesn’t remember your birthday or anniversaries, he’s not right for you. And if he doesn’t realize that you're not willing to put him before your schoolwork, he’s not right for you.

“If he doesn’t know that your favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip or that your favorite color is yellow or that your favorite store is Forever 21, he shouldn’t even be near you. And if he doesn’t know that he's the luckiest guy just because he's with you, then he’s not even worth it.”

A blush flooded her cheeks as she looked up at Nick from under her thick lashes, her hair falling in her face once more. She could feel the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corner of her lips, a smile that only Nick Santino had ever been able to produce.

“If only there was someone out there who could possibly know me half as well as you do,” she said, a small laugh escaping her mouth. His eyes brightened a bit at the sound, a triumphant smile coming to his own lips as he locked eyes with her.

“It must suck knowing that I might be the person you’re stuck with for the rest of your life,” he joked. Jennifer shook her head, reaching across the table to grab his plate of pie and picking up the fork from next to her. She brought a forkful to her mouth, a groan of satisfaction leaving her lips at the taste. There wasn't a place in Braintree that could make a better apple pie.

She shrugged her shoulders, a full smile consuming her rosy lips as she turned toward the window, watching as the snow fell in big, white chunks toward the asphalt. She could feel Nick’s eyes on her, and she couldn’t help but let her smile widen at the feeling.

“It might not be that bad, “she said, looking back toward Nick with a playful gleam in her eyes. He hadn't seen that in a while, and he hadn't realized how much he’d missed it before then. “Ya know, as long as I can continue to get pieces of apple pie out of it.”

Nick chuckled, reaching across the table to take one of her hands in his. He liked the feeling of her smaller hand in his, he realized, as he squeezed it tight and laced their fingers together.

“I could arrange that.”