Page 50 - Contrast2016

CONTRAST - 48

People were gathering, so I moved. I let the bag cinch my shoulder painfully
and I slid out the door and onto the edge of the tracks, swallowing as I eyed the
drop down. It was steep; it was deadly.

I gripped my bag a little tighter and edged back to the wall behind me,
taking comfort in the cool flatness of the bricks. I slid my ticket in between the
pages of my book so that I could more properly hold it with less issue. There was
silence between the passengers that stood around me, except for the dull hum
of the cafe behind us and the intermittent chirp of birds in the trees beyond the
tracks. I wanted a cup of coffee to sip at socially, but had no hands to hold it. So I
stood softly, a strange, young presence in the crowd of adults.

Once the train came drifting up towards us, the conductors reached for our
tickets, and I awkwardly scrambled for mine as I knew I would. There were
almost no passengers, which I thanked the high heavens for, and picked a window
seat surrounded by empty quiet. It took me several minutes to get my things in
order; my bag up above my seat, my purse next to me, my novel on the tray in
front of me waiting to be edited. I took a deep sigh once I sat, my coat off, and
glanced out of the window for a long moment. I let my hand rest on the cover
page of my manuscript affectionately.

A middle aged man in a beige trench coat took a seat to my left, smiling
sensitively, and I instantly tightened up. It took him almost fifteen minutes, but
he started asking questions. Questions, because I was a tiny blonde girl with hair
down to her ass and lily white skin. Bravely, I dodged most of the questions, but
he sprung one at me- where was my college?- and I automatically answered,

"McDaniel College."

There were a few minutes of awkward silence after I made that comment.
"Westminster? Never heard of it."

I peered over my book at him with wide, startled eyes. He was staring intently
at his phone before looking up at me with a broad smile.

Again, silence. I looked away.

I swallowed nervously, trying not to say anything back, but he continued play-
ing on his phone.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I stared at him for a long moment before

pretending not to have heard him. My throat closed in on itself, and I picked at a
hairband on my wrist.

Interestingly, we had come to a halt at a stop where a dozen or so gawky

looking teenage boys were standing on the platform outside of the train. They

filed on, and the first few instantly noticed the creepy guy Sitting near to me.

They filled in the seats around me, muttering to themselves about how a girl was

all alone and some middle-aged man was eyeing her up like a piece of meat. One

in particular hung over the seat nearest to me, smiling, his dark hair curling around
his face in a particularly boyish way. I smiled back at him.

The man stood, his expression darkened, and moved to another cabin. I

celebrated by getting out of my seat to get a sandwich from the dining car,

returning to a scene of comfortable rowdiness that made me think of my

cousins, boys younger than I but more like brothers than anything.

They started joking about various things amongst themselves, and

occasionally, I would make a one-liner that would make them roar with

laughter and clap me on the back. I flipped through my book and smiled to myself

without teeth, noticing that the dark haired boy kept glancing my way. Finally I

sighed a little and captured his attention with the movement. '