x. status -> closed for @hvneymelons (juno) x. location -> blue harbor train station
Theo supposes riding a train is not unlike riding the subway. Though, much to her own embarrassment, it’s not like she’d ridden the subway very often in New York. No — when your family has the means, public transportation even in a city as large as New York was hardly ever necessary. Maybe that’s why she finds the novelty far more exciting than she thinks any human being should; and, if she’s being completely honest with herself, it’s probably a tiny bit condescending.
She doesn’t think she exudes wealth — at least, she doesn’t think such a thing is possible — but even so, she tries her best to make herself as small as possible as she takes a seat on a shaded bench, waiting for the next train to Chicago. She could have probably driven, mind you, but as someone who rarely ever had to drive herself, she’s not the most confident in her ability to not cause an accident on a highway. Something objectively low in risk, she thinks, but not according to the anxious voice inside her head that sounds remarkably like her nagging mother.
Crossing one leg over the other, she links her fingers together around her knee, watching people walk to and fro, clearly in their own world. They all seem so comfortable here, like they do this every day, and, well — Theo supposes they just might. Maybe she’ll eventually be as comfortable as them, she thinks, if she starts taking the train more often.
A fleeting movement catches her attention in her peripheral, and she turns curiously to find the source. It’s a young woman who seems to have flipped through a page in her journal and is now scribbling something else down, looking deep in concentration. Theo doesn’t think it’s a good idea to interrupt her, but she can’t help herself — she catches sight of the woman’s writing, and finds herself saying, “Wow. You have remarkable penmanship,” before she can stop herself. She smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. I promise I didn’t read anything. Mostly taken by the sight.”