Our eyes meet and he gives me a head nod and a half smile. Hey, he’s kind of cute. His gray eyes look away from me and glance around the car – taking in the scene but not really looking at anyone in particular – the way regulars on the train generally do. Maybe that’s why I didn’t really notice how handsome he was when I saw him last week. It’s not good manners to check people out on the train and I had been distracted by the pizza bag and my criminally focused daydream.
Today, the train is packed and he’s closer than comfortable social norms allow. I should be looking away, but I can’t. He has wavy light brown hair, one side of his top lip is a teensy bit thicker than the other, and he has a tiny scar at the corner of his right eye that I might want to kiss. Yikes!
He looks back at me, and I drop my eyes down toward the pizza bag. There is something hard inside and it’s pushing against my thigh. I think of the punchline Is there a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? Surely there is not a gun in his pizza bag. Is there?
Oh Mylanta! What am I doing? I’ve been keeping an eye out for this guy all week, determined to find him. Now I’ve found him and I’m not sure of my next move. I can’t exactly say, Hey, nice pizza bag. Whatcha got in there? What would Shelley do? Actually, that might be what Shelley would do.
Okay, think. Think. I’m running out of time. Wait. Am I? Last week I got off the train before he did. That doesn’t mean he won’t abruptly get off at the next stop, but I likely have a little bit of time to come up with something.
But I come up with nothing. We’re already at Fullerton and there are only two more stops before mine. I’m considering whether I’ll just get off wherever he gets off and… what, follow him? when the pizza bag moves against my leg! What the…? Is there something alive in that bag or was it just the movement of the train? Did I imagine it? Is it a gun or an animal or a pizza? I’m starting to feel a bit unhinged.
Now we’ve passed Diversey and I have to decide. I steal a glance in his direction.
“Hi, hello. Can I ask you what you have in your pizza bag? Is it pizza? Or I guess really, I should ask what you had in it last week? Because I saw you last week when you were sitting down and the bag was on your lap and it looked like your hand was in the bag. And I told my roommate Shelley about it, and she wants to know what was, or is, in the bag and so I’ve been watching for you. And now – look, boom, here you are. I just coincidentally ran into you and so I thought I’d ask, if you don’t mind. We’re almost at my stop and I can’t get off the train without asking you what’s in the bag. Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?”
Did I say that out loud? Did I just SAY ALL of that out LOUD?!
We are stopping at Wellington, and I think I’m going to have to push past him and out the door to find a black hole to hide in.
The corner of his mouth quirks up and he lifts one eyebrow. “You’re weird.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, dropping my head. “I really am.”
“Sure,” he says. And when I just continue to stare at my shoes he continues. “Sure, I’ll have a cup of coffee with you, What’s your stop?”
My voice only wobbles a little when I look back and him and say, “Belmont.”
“Mine too. There’s a Dark Matter Coffee just around the corner. My sister works there.”
This was really happening. I am going to have a cup of coffee at Dark Matter with the pizza man. “I know it,” I say excitedly. “Shelley and I go there all the time.”
“She’s not going to be waiting for us there, is she?” I shake my head dumbly.
An awkward silence follows, but I’m afraid to open my mouth again. You may have already guessed that striking up a small talk conversation isn’t one of my strengths.
When the train stops at Belmont we disembark and head for the exit the pizza bag between us.
“So, what do you like on your pizza?” he asks.
“Mostly meat, I guess. Pepperoni, ham, sausage. You?”
“I don’t like pizza,” he says as he looks over to gauge my reaction. He’s wearing that half smile again.
“You’re weird,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I really am.”
THE END
Once Upon a Willow 