When she first walked towards me and gave me a half-smile, the fake smile you give fellow straphangers while they wait on crowded subway platforms, I didn’t think much of it. I smiled back, believing that this would be the only interaction we had, that we would involve ourselves in the frustration of watching trains travel uptown while we waited for one to arrive in the downtown direction. Lisa saw the smile and gave me a look. Leyli immediately got excited and told me to ask her out. I just stared at Ms. Anonymous Redhead, observing her skirt, her freckled shoulders, the way she stood, the way that her face represented the right mixture of hot and cute. Not too hot that she looked unattainable, not too cute that she looked like a school girl.
When she glanced at me a second time and smiled, Lisa said “Wow, I’m surprised!”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that women don’t usually look back after the first glance.” She looked back a third time, this time trying to hide it by scratching her nose and turning her head to the right. Our eyes met again and I curled my lips upward. She looked away and I tried to fix my already puffed up hair as another train rushed past us.
When a downtown 6 finally arrived, Leyli pushed me on the train, hoping that I would stand next to the redhead in the cramped conditions that is common during rush hour on the green line. Somehow, Leyli was forced to stand next to her, in between what was turning out to be constant glances of lust. Lisa was telling me a story, but noticed I wasn’t listening to her when I looked yet again at Hot Stuff. “Forget it. I’ll just talk to Leyli.”
“What? I was listening. You said something about Matt,” I lied.
“No,” she said as she moved closer to Leyli. She gave my infatuation a look of disdain and mouthed “skank.” Leyli was still telling me to ask her out and Lisa joined in. “You should follow her. Get off at the same stop as she does,” she said.
“And ask her out!” Leyli added.
When we reached Grand Central, I glanced at her one last time as she tried to get out of the way of a jerk who thought the subway belonged to him and him alone. This time, she did not look back. ” I need to go,” I said to Lisa and Leyli.
“You should follow her,” Lisa said.
“I really need to go,” I repeated, trying to quell the raging hormones flowing throughout my body. I thought about the possibilities. Maybe we would just give in and venture to the space between cars and sex each other up. Maybe I would follow her, she would run to a police officer, and complain that some creep kept on looking at her on the subway and was now stalking her. Maybe I would actually find the courage to ask her out and get over my fear of whatever has been holding me back from pursuing a romantic relationship. Maybe she was a psycho and would lure me back to her apartment where she would kill me and hide my limbs in her freezer.
On the subsequent train ride home, I put on my sunglasses so I wouldn’t risk making eye contact with anyone else. All I remember of her now is a red blur, something that represents beauty, failing to even recall the color of the eyes that so entranced me.
