Bus ride blues
The weekend was but a hazy blur now, and I didn't care to even try to remember what it consisted of. It was just another notch in the experience belt. And by now, it was full of holes.
Technically, I guess it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. In fact, as much as I thought it was just the same old same old, at the same time I knew it wasn't.
He was sitting accross from me. I noticed his hair first, I always do. Shoulder length, with this messy, unkempt style to it. It wasn't carefully coiffed to look like he hadn't washed it. I think he probably just hadn't washed it. And he was pale. Not the whitest kid I've ever seen, but pretty damn close. He looked like he was allergic to the sun. The thought made me smile to myself. Someone who was allergic to the sun? That could probably be described as me. I had two colours: white and red. I tried not to be red.
When he saw me smiling, he smiled too. Not a lecherous, come-hither, serpentine grin, but a genuine, all teeth, no guile, ear-to-ear smile. I thought it was going to swallow his whole face.
And I didn't really know what to do. I could do my typical, girlish giggle and bat my eyelashes bit. That always got them. Guys loved girls who fawned and gushed all over them. It was always a big ego boost to have a girl you could drape over your arm, like a gigantic trophy, like a tanned animal hide. I hated having to reduce myself to that. Which is why I always liked the guys who went for the rough and tumble facade. The "all business/no nonsense" girl. The one you could just fuck and chuck without a second thought.
It was always a carefully planned decision. What to do.....
For some reason, and without my knowledge, my body reacted before my brain -- I found myself smiling back at him. No eyelash batting, no lip curling, nothing. Just a smile. Just a genuine smile.
He smiled widened and he looked away, like he was shy or something. Like he didn't want me to see that he was smiling so much because of me. I almost laughed. Why is he acting shy?
We got off the bus at the University, and went our seperate ways. I spent the whole day secretly hoping that he would show up in one of my classes. But no such luck.
It pissed me off. Not that I didn't see him again, but that I was still thinking about him. It was just some stupid guy on a bus. He smiled at you, that's all. Get over it. You're probably never going to see him again.
I didn't do this. So I'd forget about it.
But I still couldn't help but wonder what his name was.