Ooouuchh!
Today was just not your day. You woke up 30 minutes late and had to rush to get ready in half the time you normally do. Then you discovered your roommate and best friend ate the last of your breakfast bars and neglected to tell you, leaving you not only in a rush now but super hungry. And now, to top it all off, your ankle got caught in the closing doors of a north bound R train as you desperately reached out your leg to stop from being left.
You shook it off and got the last seat available on the train, sitting careful not to invade anyone’s personal space and keeping your eyes to yourself. This is New York City, after all. People here are about their business and don’t want you in it. It’s pretty chill here, though. You can focus on yourself and not worry about any strangers being in your personal life, unlike in your hometown.
An alarm on your phone reminds you that you have 20 minutes to get to class or your professor will be marking down your grade. It wasn’t really your fault that you were sometimes late. Okay, always late. Living in Brooklyn and having to commute to Manhattan for classes was sometimes difficult since city trains can be so unpredictable. With the swipe of your finger, you silenced the alarm and continued your commute, taking in the beautiful quiet of the city morning.
“Ugh,” you scoff barely audible to yourself. You reached into your bag and pulled out a pilot script, one you were critiquing for a classmate. The writer, a television writing major, was in one of your gen ed classes and was in desperate need of a second opinion. You promised to return it back to them two days before the due date, which meant you needed to have it done today. Your fingers flipped through the 60 pages swiftly, assessing what you needed to complete. 10 more pages. Okay, this shouldn’t take too long, you think as you grab your red pen and get to work.
This is Whitehall St. South Perry.
A person sitting on the bench opposite yours got up and walked out. A tall, lanky fellow dressed in a flannel, sunglasses, and backwards baseball cap replaced her. His short, scruffy blonde cut obviously missed a grooming today. You couldn’t really tell because of his dark shades, but it seemed like he was staring at you… Whatever. He’s probably just some creep.
“What book are you reading?”
It took you a moment to realize the voice questioning was questioning you. You looked up at his now smiling face with your lips pursed in a line. He has such a nice smile, wow, you think
“Um, actually it’s a script,” you said shortly. You looked back to your work and kept writing.
“A script? Are you a writer?” he asked.
“No, it’s for a friend. And I have to get it done soon, so…” you state without looking up, hoping he gets the message.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”
You flash him a tight smile and busy yourself once again. The boy sits still with his hands clasped for a moment but then begins to fidget a bit. He then leans forward and looks right at you, eyes still hidden by his sunglass.
“I don’t know how many stops we have left together so I’ve got to tell you right this second: You are absolutely beautiful and I would love to take you out sometime,” he says surely and stares at you, waiting for your answer.
You begin putting your things away and look up at him, a bit apologetically.
“No, sorry. Thanks, though.”
“It would be a super fun night, I promise. I know a lot of chill spots around the city and—”
“Really, I’m okay. Thanks”
“I’m very good at small talk, plus—”
“I am declining your offer. This is me declining.”
“I sing and even play guitar a bit.”
You paused and pursed your lips at him.
“Uh-huh. Your flannel and shades gave that away.”
The woman sitting next to you scoffs. The blond boy snaps his fingers exaggeratedly.
“Drat,” he smiles wide at you. “There goes the element of surprise I was going for. I could give you a sample right now, if you’re not convinced.”
“ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, I’M GONNA FIND YA, I’M GONNA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA! ONE WAY, OR ANOTHER I’M GONNA WIN YA, I’M GONNA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA”
You cover your face in utter embarrassment as the train car is flooded with the mystery boy’s terribly, nasally singing. He begins trying to harmonize with himself in a way that makes you want to cut your own ears off. The noise is soon accompanied by many a “shut up” and various strings of expletives by the other passengers. Oh, New York.
“Oh my God, just give him a wrong number and make him shut up already! I’m going into a twelve hour shift, lady!” one man yells at you, undoubtedly frustrated as everyone else was as the boy was getting louder.
You stuff the script back into your bag and walk over to the obnoxious boy.
“Ugh, thank you,” the man says while throwing his hands up in the air dramatically.
“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” you ask as you ink the skin of his right forearm with your name and number. He seemed to be flexing a little bit as veins showed in his arm and made your heart flutter.
He frowned a bit at your words and you immediately felt bad.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” you begin but he holds up his free hand to quiet you.
“It’s quite alright, love. I didn’t see any other way of such a gorgeous girl giving her number to a complete stranger on a New York subway,” he grins.
The stark contrast of your complexions was oddly nice to see. Cute, even, and you smiled at it.
“Yeah, well you just better be less obnoxious on the date.”
“I plan to be. Promise,” he pulls his shades down just enough for you to see his green eyes give you a sweet wink. Wow, those eyes are so beautiful. His dimples were deep as ever now as he was grinning at you from ear to ear.
You roll your eyes and ask with a cute little attitude, “Do I even get a name?”
He smiles sweetly at you and replies, “Edward.”
You nod and give him a grin. The subway doors open and you leave the mysterious Edward with your number clad on his muscular arm. And his skin was warm and soft, which put an end to your vampire theories. After all, his name is Edward.
What a morning. Wait… did you actually just give your actual number to an actual stranger? On the subway? What in the natural world would ever possess you to do something like that?
That smile. It was definitely that bright smile.
Well, at least your ankle isn’t bothering you anymore.
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