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part two
five weeks ago I saw the cutest boy in new york on the subway, and he saw me, and not-so-furtive glances were exchanged. there he was the next day too, getting on the train where I did, getting off the train where I did, both of us too silly and bashful to make eye contact or take off our headphones and say hello. I wanted to stop being silly, so promised myself the next time I saw him, action would be taken.
four weeks ago I got my tonsils out, and as I lay in bed in watching The Price is Right and Ricki Lake and the minutes tick slowly slowly slowly by for ten housebound days, I thought about the cutest boy in new york. had he gone down to the subway platform that monday, then tuesday, then wednesday, expecting to see me running for the train? had he wondered where I was? would I ever see him again?
three weeks ago I finally felt well enough to go back to work. I dawdled over breakfast and getting dressed and picking out the day's CDs, the clock ticking closer to 9 a.m., as a mysterious voice in the back of my head told me not to rush. by the time I left my house, I was supposed to be at work already. I strolled to the subway in the spring sun and walked into the station as the train pulled in and ran for the turnstill and down the platform and right up to the cutest boy in new york. he saw me and stepped back, surprised, before looking away again. I stepped into the subway car behind him and started smiling and couldn't stop.
for six stops I sat and read and glanced over my glasses and he stood and shuffled and glanced around and at the seventh stop we both walked toward the door and out of the car and up the stairs, him a few steps behind me. at the next train platform he stood beside me and when the train arrived and the doors opened we both walked to the opposite door and stood mute, side by side. the time had come to take action. there would be no more silliness. I turned to him to say hello.
and he turned away, quickly, shyly. I'd caught him looking at me and he did what everyone does when caught looking; he turned his head and shuffled his feet and suddenly became wildly absorbed in the MTA posters and alcohol ads. I could keep staring at him until he turned back (creepy!) or I could admit the moment was gone. I dropped my head and pretended to read.
the doors opened at our stop and I tried to give it one more go. as we went through the turnstiles I started to hang back, wanting to follow him up the stairs and see which direction he turned. I slowed my pace and unbelievably, so did the cutest boy in new york. right there, on my left, a few steps back from me and never getting any further ahead, waiting to follow me as I waited to follow him. we nearly came to a standstill. and so I smiled wide and gave up. he could have this one. I headed up the stairs and around the corner and when I was halfway down the block I turned and the cutest boy in new york was gone again.