“Hi, I’m Laura,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Jess. Nice to meet you. You’re in my humanities class, right?”
“Yes, with Dr. Mansa. She is a riot.”
“I’ve never had her before,” I said, then shook my head. “Let me make that clear. I’m a freshman, just came in this semester, but I used to come for baccalaureate classes for extra credit and I’ve run into some of the professors before.”
“Oh, an honor student,” she said. “Cool. I'm from Nicaragua, so I didn’t have a chance to do that, but I know there’s a good honors program here. That’s why I decided to come to this community college.”
I smiled. “That’s so cool,” I said. “How do you like it here?”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I miss the food.”
“What’s the food like there?”
We got into an easy conversation, and soon, without realizing it, I had made a new good friend. We worked hard to get into the honors program together and soon, there were more of us. Slowly but surely, my study group became my favorite people to see every day.
It was great. I was finally finding my groove again, until I got on the train one day, sat down in one of the empty seats and looked out the window. It was the perfect time to be on the metro, nobody around me, and I was glad. Taking my car to school wouldn’t make any sense, because there was rarely any parking there, and I would likely be stuck in traffic for too long to make it worth it. So I left my car at home, or the train station, where I hopped off and hopped on the train. I was thinking about the logistics of this when I saw somebody that I recognized on the reflection of the window.
My breath caught in the back of my throat as I tried my best to continue staring out the window. I didn’t want to fall into the trap of looking right at him. I had been very conscious of avoiding him ever since our messy breakup. I had gone out of my way not to run into him in the hallways or during student events.
He had tried to talk to me, but I had always ignored him. It seemed like he had finally managed to get the message. So I was trying my best to keep avoiding him, even though seeing him right then made things a little weird. I thought I had left him behind in high school, a memory, more bitter than sweet, but seeing him in flesh and blood made me feel a little sick to my stomach.
I was trying my best not to show it. To be a static figure sitting on the train where he wouldn’t be able to find me. He sat on the seats behind me and I continued to hold my breath.
Maybe he was going to ignore me and we weren’t going to speak to each other.
“Whoa,” he said. “I thought it was you but I wasn’t sure.”
I craned my neck to look at him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I stared at him. “Did you startle me?”
“I don’t know,” he said, cocking his head. “It seemed like I did.”
“You didn’t. It’s fine.”
He swallowed. He looked bigger than he had last time I had seen him. As if he had gotten taller, but wider, too. His hair was cut very short, shorter than he had kept it in high school, and it looked darker when it was cut so close to his skull. “Where are you going?” He asked, after a little bit.
“School. You?”
“School.”
I furrowed my brow, but I was determined not to ask. “Okay.”
“I did hear that you’re going to community college. I just didn’t think I would run into you. The place is so big.”
I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t run into me there, though. You run into me on the train.”
He nodded. “That’s sure. Can I sit next to you?”
I licked my teeth, shrugging my shoulders. “You can do whatever you want. You are a grown ass man.”
He nodded, walking over to where I was, and sitting down next to me. He put his arm on the back of my chair and I felt the warmth coming off his skin. I looked him up and down. “Maybe we can do this together every time,” he said.
“Do what together?”
“You know,” he replied. “Go to school together.”
I glared at him. “I don’t think I want that.”
He looked a little defeated for a second. “You don’t seem to be that excited to see me.”
“I’m not. Not excited to see you at all.”
“Okay, but you don’t have to be rude.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I really laughed, a belly laugh, because what he had said was really funny. I waved my hand in front of my face when he asked for an explanation, taking a few seconds to calm down before I spoke again. “I’m the one being rude.”
“Yeah, you don’t have to be a sarcastic bitch.”
“Trust me,” I said. “The laughing was sincere.”
“I—look, I get it, it was awkward,” he said. “It was—”
I held my hand up. “No,” I said. “Mhm. Let me stop you right there.”
“Jess—”
“You don’t get to talk to me,” I said. “You don’t get to pretend that we’re still friends. We’re not still friends. We are nothing. We don’t know each other. If you try to pretend we are, I’ll just ignore you.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“Me? Being fair?” I said with
