“Oh no, I’m going to fall,” the young woman giggled, pulling closer to the man gripping the pole above their heads.
She playfully wrapped her fingers around his hairy wrist, adorned with an expensive watch. Her other hand pressed against his chest, padded with a puffy vest, to steady herself as the train braked. Her overfilled lips parted to reveal her teeth in mischievous laughter.
The man’s facial muscles didn’t budge. His gaze anxiously searched for another grip, just in case he couldn’t support the woman clinging to him. Finally, he widened his stance, turning one of his soft leather-clad feet outward. His free hand slid into the pocket of his tight black jeans.
“What if we fall when the train stops again?” she teased, moving her face so close to his that he unconsciously tilted his head back.
The awkward position forced the man to shift. He switched hands—one now gripping the cold metal pole, the other resting on the warm fabric of his vest. The motion caused the woman to lose her contact with his wrist and chest. She tossed her chestnut-brown hair, streaked with faded highlights, over her shoulder in frustration. It was evident she hadn’t visited a hairdresser in a long time. A barely perceptible shadow crossed the man’s forehead.
“Where do we get off again?” she asked tirelessly, trying to coax a word from the man who, with his short stubble and thick eyebrows, looked perpetually grumpy.
“At the last stop,” came the curt reply.
“Oh, silly me, of course,” she laughed, her voice forced.
She leaned in again, aiming for the face that clearly wanted no contact with her exaggeratedly plumped lips.
The woman decided to change tactics. With a swift, unstoppable motion, she wrapped her arms around the man’s waist. He seemed unfazed, but his fingers gripping the gray pole turned white from the strain of resisting the unwelcome touch. His other hand clenched into a fist in his pocket. The woman, oblivious to his body language, rested her head against the padded, water-resistant vest. She looked up at him, her gaze hopeful, but his eyes avoided hers.
The man cleared his throat irritably. His entire body tensed, his jaw twitched, and his lips pressed inward while his nostrils flared.
At the airport stop, the surge of people boarding pressed the pair closer together. The woman took advantage, nuzzling her forehead into the man’s neck while holding on even tighter to his rigid frame. The overcrowded car, heavy with heat and stale air, became almost suffocating. The man lifted his head in desperation, directing his nose toward the ceiling to avoid inhaling the recycled breath of others.
“What a date,” her tinkling voice floated to him from a distance. “If I’d known everyone would ride the train today, I wouldn’t have suggested going to the movies.”
The man gave the faintest shrug. The woman let go of his waist with one hand, clutching her handbag instead.
Finally, the train stopped again. Most of the crowd exited the car. The man ran a relieved hand through his hair and turned his face toward the door, savoring the rush of cool, fresh air pouring into the compartment. He didn’t even notice the absence of arms around him or the head no longer pressed into his neck. Nor did he see the chestnut-brown hair, streaked with light brown highlights, as it swayed behind her retreating figure. She disappeared past the window, heading for the station exit.