Headphones and Trains (i & ii)

Headphones and Trains1

i. 'Sometimes,' I wondered, 'why everyone decided that high school students had to be the scapegoats. Why were they always considered the ignorant ones who deserved to be castigated on every mistake they made? Who actually made these decisions?'2

I was sitting on a nasty looking bench waiting for my 6:45 train when an older man hobbled past me. He was eyeing a group of high school boys who were loudly exclaiming about something. Eventually, he made his way to the other end of my bench, sat down, and shook out a newspaper while muttering to himself. “Damn depraved children. They never respect anybody anymore.” At times like these, I was glad that I wasn’t a high school student anymore. Being in college opened up a while knew line of things you could do and say without being thought of as naïve and childish. 3

I turned my attention back to my book and tried to ignore the lewd comments coming from the boys. “Hey babe,” one called out to me, “do you want me to show you what a real man feels like?” I scowled and tried to keep my attention away from them. For once, I really wanted to damn train to arrive already and have it whisk me away from these crass children. 4

Unfortunately, Lady Luck didn’t seem to favor me today. My train seemed to have mysteriously vanished and the boys were becoming bolder. One even had the audacity to whistle when I rearranged my skirt. 5

Finally, my concentration snapped like a taunt rubber band. I closed my book in a huff and glanced at the boys, analyzing them. There were four boys total, all around the age of seventeen or even eighteen, and three of them had their attention on me. The only one who wasn’t paying the least attention to me had his back turned away. He was tenuous, tall, and had the air of an aristocrat (even though this was modern London and nobles weren't regular). 6

“Come on, lady!” the red head called again, “we can have fun together.” His comment was accompanied by a wink and a shoulder-nudge. I rolled my eyes at their immaturity and redirected my gaze at the tunnel. 7

It wasn’t until a full fifteen minutes after my train should have arrived when I came to the conclusion that a cab would be an easier rout. Plus, the vulgar high school boys couldn’t follow. I am brilliant.8

I bent down to gather my belongings (a ratty green backpack and a paper bag containing three books on Paris) when someone’s foot lightly rested on my hand, halting me. Glancing up, I saw the red head from earlier leering down on me. 9

“Excuse me,” I pulled my hand out from underneath him and stood up. 10

“Hey, I wasn’t done with you!” He grabbed my wrist, fully intending to hold me back, no matter what the cost. My mind froze; the only noise that came out from my mouth was a petrified squeak. “Me and my friends would gladly skip school for you.” The same salacious smirk wormed its way onto his pale face and I shivered.11

I guess I hadn’t gotten the best genes from my parents; I was short and stout, not made for protecting myself or others. I couldn’t even run very fast. My mind was spinning abnormally fast and I tried to recall every fact on defeating a sexual assaulter but I came up with nothing. 12

“Dan,” a detached voice came from behind me and the nonchalant owner pulled Dan’s hand off of mine, his other hand protectively clamped on my shoulder just in case. I wasn’t sure of this person’s intent; maybe he wanted the joy of beating me over the head. “Try hitting on someone who wants to be hit on. Next time, why don’t you try finding someone remotely good looking?” My jaw dropped at his response, though this person was trying to help me, he had taken a serious blow to my self conscience. Damn cocky bastard. 13

I spun around with some choice words on my lips when I realized that it was the aristocratic boy from earlier. Being near him took another blow to my ego; he was actually taller than he had looked earlier. Fine cut cheekbones, a pale face that would make some vampires jealous, and flashing brown eyes all added to his mysterious look. Dark brown hair was cropped around his ears and a slightly crooked nose easily balanced each other out.14

“Oi, Nate! Why are you sticking up for her? Do you want her? I could lend you some of her; I mean I probably won’t use all of her.” Dan whined; Nate was evidently the leader of this group. Nate’s rigid posture suggested that he wasn’t here to stick up for me. No, he was probably sick of seeing his buddies follow such idiotic pleasures. Nate dropped his hand from my shoulder and promptly yanked Dan away with a polite, yet curt nod in my direction. He is Korean, I realized as he walked off.15

I watched him pull Dan back to their group of friends and stand a little ways off. This Nate kid was pretty handsome, the whole mysterious look and masochist personality really added to the whole look. This boy was definitely a heartbreaker, I mused as I scrambled for my stuff.16

17

ii. Three dates (two blind dates), seven decaf coffees, and four emails had past since my ‘encounter’ in the subway. And today I had wisely chosen the right stop (which was coincidently three stops before the one I had tried awhile ago). Soon I found propped up in the dingy train; my book was open and small glasses were perched on my nose. 18

My ride was along thirty-five minutes long so it would be best if I came prepared. Which usually meant I came prepared with one good book filled with big-bosomed women in frill dresses and the men that all have twenty-nine packs on their abdominals. These were silly stories that entertained myself on the ride there and back from King’s College London. 19

Unknown to me, two stops had past and a wave of people pushed their way onto the train. It was swiftly filled with some jostling high school students on their way to some private school. I kept my eyes on my book, not wanting to see if the man next to me was trying to look down my shirt.20

The familiar clack-clack of the wheels echoed solemnly. What caught my ear was a surprisingly familiar tune being hummed from somewhere near. I slipped my finger into my place and looked around, the familiar tune irking my memory.21

Glancing around, I noticed more than one person with their headphones. Who could be playing this song? I became increasingly irritated at the tune; I even tried to go back to reading but without success. 22

Suddenly, the train screeched to its customary stop, there was the usual pushing and yelling from the boarders and I found myself uncomfortably pressed against the wall. “Sorry,” a deep voice apologized as they were shoved into me. His dark hair tickled my nose and I heard the familiar tune. I started and accidentally bumped into the kind boy who was protecting me from the push of passengers.23

“Big City Dreams!” the title hit me and I rudely shouted into his ear. Passengers surrounding us gave me a reprimanding look. He chuckled and I turned to glower at him, as if it was actually his fault. 24

“It’s you!” we both exclaimed. Nate was the one with his frame protecting me from the rest of the crowd! Who would have thought that I would see him again? I quickly scanned the vicinity to see if Dan and their friends were here. My hand was gripping my bag in a strangle hold. 25

“What are you doing here?” I hissed out as if it didn’t matter that he had saved me yesterday from his friends. 26

“If you didn’t realize, I’m on my way to school.” I looked at him through slanted eyes, he was a high school boy and it was a Thursday… It wasn’t until I took in his navy blue shirt (his white blazer was hanging off one arm), a light gray tie that was loosely hung around his neck, and a class ring on his middle finger, that I actually believed him. 27

“And you?” his voice came from above my head. “You look rich enough to take a cab every day.” I snorted, it wasn’t the nicest of all responses but it was easier than explaining my situation at home. 28

We rode in silence; my head was turned to the left and his to the right. The only time we came in contact with each other was when someone rudely jostled Nate into me, but usually he was sturdy enough to budge.29

“What stop do you get off?” I tried to make polite conversation with the wall in front of me. 30

“Two stops from now. My high school is on Bradley Street, you?”31

“Whington Street, four from now.” Our voices were hushed, as if it was a secret. I leaned back and felt the cool metal against the back of my legs. I shivered.32

“Cold?” It wasn’t a question, more of a wry statement. I scowled and slowly nodded. “Move away from the wall.” And we rode together in silence.33

Soon the train was coming to its customary screeching stop and a wave of borders shoved left and right. ‘It’s almost like the lunch room,’ I thought, grinning. 34

“Do you think you could handle two stops without me being your human shield?” Nate’s voice whispered into my ear. I twitched. “Personally, I think you can’t. Prove me wrong.” I couldn’t say no to this direct challenge. Scowling, I pushed him in the general direction of the door and huffed. 35

A couple of stops later someone tried to pocket my cell phone. I beat him over the head with my purse.36

To be continued...