(It's still Friday! I made it on time, two weeks in a row, whoot! XD)
Winter Quarter is finally over! I think I failed a class D: (I've never actually failed any class before :( ) and I know I destroyed my GPA, but I'm done, and I'm still alive, and I'll keep holding on. This week has just been really long XD.
So I won't go into too much, but this is part two of Trains! As always, my comments trail afterwards. There aren't as many comments this time; I said most of what I wanted to last time with part one.
I don’t notice the world around me until I’ve been in a state of unintelligible self-pitying over my unrequited crush for almost 20 minutes. And when I look up from the stark plain tiled-pattern of the train, someone catches my gaze.
He’s fair haired, with bright hazel eyes that seemed to see through everything around him rather than at it. His hair is short, but for a long strand swept to the right side so that it falls in his eyes sometimes. The rest of him seems almost designedly simple: gray tee and a dark blue scarf over jeans and a navy-and-brown messenger bag.
At first I thought he was average figure, a few inches short of 6 feet. But as I observe almost obsessively, I think his clothes drape over him a little too well. He raises a hand to brush his hair behind pierced but undecorated ears, and I glimpse a wrist and arm skinnier than even mine. His skin is a pale almond color, healthy, but it’s evident he doesn’t see a lot of sun. It contrasts the multicolored wristband around his wrist.
I crane a little closer to see what the wristband says. The train is crowded, but no one seems to be awake enough to mind a stranger creeping on a fellow stranger.
“Love Project 2014”. I wonder what that could mean. It would be maybe a minute for me to look up what this means. But I don’t take my eyes off him to check. Instead I continue to watch him, mesmerized, as though if I blink he will vanish, becoming just another strange body on the train.
He glances through the people on train again, and pulls out a phone with a shrug. His phone is bright gold. It has a small decal of a orange-haired mermaid with a trident-sized needle and thread. I don’t recognize the character. Again, I ignore the temptation to look this up.
He taps the home button. Tap-taptap-tap. That’s his passcode. He hesitates. Swipe. Back swipe. Swipe again, tap. He waits. Then tap. He pauses, before swiping up. I watch, transfixed with the motion and slight twist of the pad of the thumb as it moves the page down and down. Swipe, swipe…swipe. He smiles, and tap. Then it is back to swiping. Another smile, followed by another tap. Swipe, swipe.
We pass what I reckon is half an hour like this, him just scrolling down the page of whatever application he has open—some kind of social networking, I figure. At one point he furrows his eyes, the edges drawing in a little with curiosity and his thin lips sucking in and twitching to one side. He decides he likes it, or something of the sort. The post is rewarded with a tap and he pauses to look at it again before continuing.
Then suddenly he chuckles, quietly, but audibly enough for me to hear through the quiet chatter on the train. It’s a light tenor sound, and the smile tugs the ends of his mouth and delicately thin eyebrows up. The message is responded to with a tap, but this one is aimed at the top of the screen—a text, I decide. He shifts his legs and weight, and pulls his other hand from where it was resting on the other rail. His thumbs dart across the bottom of the screen.
I watch, fascinated, and find myself wondering who he is and what he’s like. What’s his name? Where is he going? What does he enjoy doing? I can tell he’s not antisocial because of the social networking application and the text, but beyond that, I can’t imagine.
“Next stop, Bryka Falls. All passengers departing at Bryka Falls, please prepare to exit.”
He looks up and he clicks his phone off, and stuffs it in his pocket. I panic a moment—is this his stop? I want to stop him—that entire hour, just spent watching?
“Wait,” I call out, reaching for his arm. My finger grazes his scarf before he realizes I’m talking to him. “Sorry, but I wanted to tell you. You’re cute.”
He’s utterly confused—and probably creeped out. His hand stops halfway in his bag and I realize he was just putting his phone away to get something else. I didn’t need to stop him now. Too late.
He gives me a bit of an awkward chuckle, and his eyebrows lift in disbelief. We both freeze, and for that moment, there is nothing but the awkward connection I’ve created in the space between us. Then he smiles, and in an instant, all the anxiety about my actually speaking with him melts away. His eyes seemed to vanish into small crescents. “Thanks,” he says. He holds out his hand. “Ethony.”
“Harper,” I reply, shaking his hand. His fingers are long, thin, and almost delicately soft. Mine are rough from constant typing, and from working with wires and computers all day.
As I speculated, it’s not his stop, so we talk for a spell. His voice is the color of his phone, melodic and golden, bright but not feminine. His cadence is at ease, even if he’s talking to an absolute stranger.
“Where are you going, Harper?” he asks casually. I open my mouth to say I’d like to build video games, but realize that isn’t his question, and his question isn’t as creepy as I thought it was. We are on a train. It makes sense to be going somewhere.
“Argentum City,” I reply honestly. “I’m moving there with a few friends. You?”
“I’m going back to Kiveneal Springs for spring break.”
“Looking forward to a relaxing week off?”
“Two weeks,” he clarifies. “Yea. I’m looking forward to relaxing and getting some stuff done this weekend.” He laughs easily and suddenly I could see the weariness in the lines around his lines.
“Hanging out with friends?”
“Some,” he shrugs.
“What do you do for fun?”
He seems a little hesitant at first, but replies: “I design and make clothes. I’m into fashion.” He shrugs. “You?”
“I like making video games.”
“Making?”
“And playing. I do a little bit of programming, design and art.” I direct the conversation back to him. “What kind of clothes do you make?”
And so it goes on. We swap stories about our hobbies, and keep the conversation light and casual. It doesn’t go into feelings or thoughts; just profile information about each other. He’s so friendly, it almost covers up for my awkward introduction. Yet I can’t help but notice his expression change as we talk. When he’s engaged, his voice is energetic and entertained. I can easily hear the passion he has for his work. It’s inspiring, and it makes me feel the same about my gaming.
But we’re on a train, and the train attendant’s voice fatefully interrupts us. “Next stop, Kivenael Springs. All passengers departing at Kivenael Springs, please prepare to exit.”
“That’s my stop,” he tells me. He has his phone out again as other passengers push by us to leave. We swap goodbyes, and he leaves with a little smile and wave. Outside, he walks leisurely through the station, pulling his rolling suitcase along in a way that belies his familiarity with the station and area.
“Last call for Argentum City.”
“Next stop, Argentum CIty.” The train is considerably fuller now, headed to a much bigger location: Argentum is the techmaturgical capital of the the country. I’m squished into the corner next to the seat the boy— Ethony— had vacated. I was so awkward. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. And anyways…he’s gone now. I’ll never see him again. Not unless chance meddles or—I sigh and silence my thoughts as though I were closing a window. That won’t happen.
An hour later, in the shuffled quiet of the train compartment, I hear rather than feel the vibration in my pocket. I reach for my phone.
Hi. Nice to meet you. :)
Warning: This is probably not realistic. I wanted Harper to talk to Ethony, and I wanted the result to be positive. So despite the reaction most of my friends got when I posed the situation to them ("Weirdo", "Thank you..." *walk away*, "uhhh....kay thanks?") I wrote it to be a lot more welcoming. (In my defense, one friend did say "Uh thanks. *introduce*" He mentioned he would give her his number if asked, but wouldn’t ask for it voluntarily.)
Clarifications: At the end, it's supposed to be that Ethony has found her on whatever social networking site he was on. Honestly I have no idea how he does it, because she told him her last name, but maybe they swapped surnames/ first names somewhere in the brief conversation they had? lol XD Basically, this relationship will continue.
Also, this world is a little bit alternate universe than my usual world setting, because technology is a little more widespread and what not. Bree's abilities are tech-centralized, though, so I might be branching out a little bit. This works for now, but I don't know if the setting should be this way.
I thought I had more to say than that lol. Anyways, next post will probably be another JULIET-related episode. I'm going to be working on the next to-be-posted project over Spring Break, but I have a few ideas for JULIET episodes that I want to get down ;)
Have a safe week everyone, and for UC students: have a relaxing spring break!
~Minerva
Trains Part 1/
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