this story often, the story of women who cannot help but ogle. That he would be tolerant of our girlish fancies.
I preferred my fantasy that there was a sweetness about him. Maybe it was the dimple action that fooled me?
‘He’s totally checking you out,’ Gwen insisted, her voice a shade too loud.
Now our handsome stranger full-on grinned, ran a hand through his casual yet professional tousled brown hair and stood to his full height, which was around six foot two. I felt nothing short of blessed to see this guy, and have him notice me.
This man, rather. We all know guys.
The vision before me was no guy. He was a Man, with a capital M.
Now, I’m not talking about age, which can be irrelevant when it comes to separating guys from men. There’s a Man Thing, that thing where you just know he’s been there, done that, seen this, possibly won that. A winner. Charisma.
He was beautiful; there’s no other word for it. Sorry if it sounds corny, but sometimes you see someone, and you’re never quite the same afterwards. Maybe you don’t know why, and maybe you’ll never find out. But that’s OK. You’ve seen him. Whatever. And now you’re changed. It may not be sexual, though it’s way cooler if that factor comes into play.
Adonis of the Trains exuded physicality, sensuality and a certain something I still could never explain in words. Most of us could spend a lifetime seeking it, a certain kind of magic that only a small percentage of the population possess. After all, why do girls love rock stars when we’re changing into young women? What do we seek when looking at any man? That elusive something. If we’re lucky, we get a glimpse.
So there was my glimpse, and facing the day at the office was less horrible.
He’s a sign from God, I thought. This is where my 24th year begins, and it will be the best one ever. This is the year I reach womanhood, the year I blossom, the year my luck changes.
The man stepped forward, a determined expression on his face, just as the train jerked to a gut-wrenching halt.
What? Was he heading towards me? I wondered. No way.
A throng of people shoved into us; we assimilated and blended into the masses. The collective propelled Gwen and me forward like a couple of bowling pins, and we were swept out through the folding doors into the deep blue sea of anxious young urban professionals, into another working week, some of us unchanged and still stuck in the Groundhog Day mindset. Either they did not see Adonis, or they were like Gwen and me, blowing sideways through life.
But I saw him.
He saw me.
That happened.
Maybe that would be enough.
Godammit. Where was he?
Adonis Trainman was lost in the crowd, despite his notable height and despicable beauty. Gwen and I half stumbled, half fell out of the train into the day’s next moment.
They are only moments, after all, and that one was mine. I already looked forward to remembering Adonis, whoever he was.
‘Wait for him,’ commanded Gwen, her voice high with excitement. ‘He’ll be out in a second. This is going to happen. Lily! This is going to happen, do you hear me?’
She jumped in a circle, while I nodded dumbly and let her grab my elbow. We waited by the train like a couple of teenage mall chicks in line for a Miley Cyrus concert.
Are girls still paying attention to Miley? Or did she go out like a wrecking ball? I never listen to the radio.
Anyway.
Figuratively speaking, I missed my train. The last of the passengers exited, and Adonis was not one of them.
But, like I said, sometimes a moment is enough. Though a ‘meet-cute’ wouldn’t have killed me, a ‘look-intensely’ would do just fine. Today. Because ten minutes earlier, today wanted to suck. But after seeing the man I would come to love – and then to hate – I felt a little gorgeous myself.
Is beauty contagious?
My throat dry as a gulch, I swallowed hard enough that it hurt while looking at Gwen, waiting for her to say her inevitable right thing.
‘Aw, shucks, kid.’ She punched me on the arm. ‘But, fuckin’ A, you two totally had the “five-minute marriage”, I’m telling you.’
‘That works. Thanks, Gwen.’
I thought so, too, and I guess she didn’t need to tell me whether I imagined that smouldering exchange. But yes, she did need to, because at the time I was even more insecure than I am now, and I would likely ask her to tell me again later in a weak moment. Normally I second-guessed anything which brought me a bit of joy, since life continually proved me wrong, every chance my silly little life got.
‘Come on.’ Gwen snapped her fingers. I was staring ahead, lost in my head and surely looking catatonic. ‘Let’s go, Lily.’
We headed toward the steps as the tube squeaked forward. I turned my head one last time, hoping for a final glimpse.
Not disappointed.
Because there stood the stranger, hanging onto a tall, steel pole. He looked out the window, and caught my eye once again.
There was a good, solid, old-school I see you and see you seeing me see you moment.
Then he grasped the pole tighter as the train jerked ahead with a warm, sympathetic, whoosh.
And then he was gone.
‘Lily’s got a boyfriend,’ Gwen singsonged.
Nothing’s changed, Lily, said a horrible voice inside my mind. Don’t go getting all happy and cocky. Go look in a mirror, and see if you still imagine that sexy thing would look twice. He was looking at Gwen, not you.
But this time I refused to listen to, or feed, the troll of my own self-doubt. I shook my head, trying to empty my mind and go back to my joyful space, which I should be allowed to feel. Because I was different, and liked myself a little better than I did, out sitting on the steps at South Station, hanging with the pigeons. They were special, too, I guess. In their little pigeony way.
Gwen and I ran up the steps together, excited to be out of the dark, back in the sunshine, where beautiful girls belong.
We arrived on the eighteenth floor at 9.07, only to find our tiny corner of Apollyon apocalyptically empty.
‘Fuhhck,’ I said. ‘Where are we supposed to be?’
‘Next floor up. Important And Mysterious Meeting,’ Gwen said, smacking her forehead. ‘Scheduled for Monday morning at nine sharp, and three email reminders last week. Thank God I persuaded you to be a responsible adult.’
‘No doubt.’ I peered around at all the abandoned cubicles. ‘Better to be fashionably late than not show at all, right?’
‘Time will tell.’
* * *
President Colossimo had a thing about punctuality – I suppose most bosses do – and since the Important And Mysterious Meeting appeared to be about something unpleasant to Mr Colossimo, he would be neither pleased nor amused by our tardiness. Gwen and I were both due for another written warning, and I was betting that this was our not-so-lucky day.
Gwen turned to me, fingers to lips. ‘Shh …’
‘Duh,’ I whispered. Stagefright. My stomach churned, and I was rethinking that breakfast burrito.
‘OK.’