Wednesday, July 16, 2014

The Long Ride


I could not concentrate any longer on the book I was reading. All I kept thinking, as he walked to the back of the bus, where I was sitting was, 'act natural. Keep reading your book. Keep reading your book.' As he approached my row, I shot a glance at him and smiled. My eyes darted away too quick to notice if he reciprocated the gesture.

He: the man I had a, two year, crush on, eight years ago, took a seat, three rows behind me, at the very back of the bus. Cursing my lazy ways, I straitened my spine. I tend to slump during the weeks - strike that - months of no exercise. I inched my back up the seat; reminded myself not to sit up too straight, too quickly. God forbid my adjustment went noticed. I yanked my t-shirt down over the waist of my jeans.

I crossed my left ankle over my right knee and began shaking my foot. Until, I realized, I was shaking my foot. I quickly uncrossed my legs. With my toes on the ground, I struggled not to bounce my thighs.

'Should I take my hair down from the halfhearted ponytail I gathered, earlier that morning, to wash my face?' No. Too obvious.

I pensively stared out the window; feigning deep thought. HA - deep thought. My monkey mind jumped up and down, while it banged on her cage. 

I strategically stared out the window, because I realized I had been staring at the same page of my book, for at least five stops, since he boarded the bus. I stuffed the book I was holding into my purse and grabbed another.

He probably didn't even recognize me. And I doubt he witnessed my internal meltdown from behind, but still, it was a long ride.





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