Brilliant.
Blue eyes.
I sighed.
Maybe they were a passageway to a better world.
On another note, people should never use train bathrooms. They were pretty gross, and I’d stepped in someone’s gum.
When I walked back to my seat, my heart tightened in my chest because I knew I would have to walk past Mr. Beautiful Eyes again. My eyes stayed down until I reached my seat. I released a breath, and then my head involuntarily turned toward him. What?! Dang my eyes for wanting another glance his way. He smiled again and nodded toward me. I didn’t smile back because I was too nervous. The strange blue eyes made me so flipping nervous.
That was the last time I saw him. Well, until now.
Now, I was standing outside the train station. He was standing outside the train station. We were standing outside the train station. And I moved my eyes over to him for a moment. Heart putters. Major heart putters.
Trying to play it cool, I twisted my head in his direction to make it seem like I was looking past Mr. Beautiful Eyes to see if Henry was coming. In all reality, I was just trying to get a peek of the banmoy against the train station wall.
My breath picked up. He saw me. Moving my feet against the sidewalk, I hummed to myself, trying to play cool and failing dramatically at it. I held my book upright in front of my face.
“‘Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love,’” he quoted.
My book dropped down to my lap. I stared at Mr. Beautiful Eyes with confusion. “Shut up.”
His grin disappeared and a level of apology filled his face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just saw you were reading—”
“Hamlet.”
A finger brushed across his upper lip, and he stepped closer. Putter. Putter. Heart. Heart. “Yeah… Hamlet. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he apologized, and his voice was very sweet. Almost what I thought honey would sound like if it had a voice. I didn’t really need an apology though. I was just happy to discover that there were other people in the world who were able to quote William.
“No. You didn’t. I-I didn’t mean shut up as in the, ‘close your lips and stop talking,’ type way. I meant it more in the way of, ‘Oh crapballs, shut up! You can quote Shakespeare?!’ It was more that style of shut up.”
“Did you just say ‘crapballs’?”
My throat tightened up. I sat up straighter. “No.”
“Um, I think you did.”
He smiled again, and for the first time, I noticed how disgusting the weather was. It was ninety degrees outside. My palms were sweating. My toes were sticky. There were even a few specks of sweat dripping from my forehead.
I watched his mouth open and I parted my lips at the same time. Then I shut mine fast, wanting to hear his voice more than my own.
“Visiting or staying?” he asked.
I blinked. “Huh?”
He laughed and nodded once. “Are you visiting town or staying for a while?”
“Oh,” I replied, staring at him for too long without saying anything else. Talk! Talk! “I’m moving. Here. I’m moving here. I’m new in town.”
He raised an eyebrow, interested in the small fact. “Oh? Well.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase with his right hand, moving closer to me. A full-grown grin brushed across his face, and he extended his left hand my way. “Welcome to Edgewood, Wisconsin.”
I looked at his hand and then back up to his face. Pulling my book to my chest, I wrapped my arms around it. I couldn’t touch him with sweaty palms. “Thanks.”
He sighed slightly, yet his grin remained. “All right then. Nice meeting you.” Pulling his hand back to his side, he began walking away toward the taxi that had just arrived at the curb.
I cleared my throat, feeling my heart pounding against Hamlet and Ophelia’s pages, and my mind started to race. My feet demanded that I stand up, so I leaped from the top of my suitcase, knocking it over.
“Are you a musician?!” I screamed toward the banmoy, who was disappearing down the strip. He looked back to me.
“How did you know?”
I took my fingers and tapped them against my novel in the same rhythmic pattern he’d tapped his fingers on the train. “Just wondering.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you?”
I scrunched up my nose and shook my head back and forth. I wondered if he saw the sweat fly from my forehead. I’d hoped not.
Slowly, his teeth bit down into his bottom lip. I saw his shoulders rise and fall from the small sigh he released. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
He nodded and ran his hand through his hair. “Good. You gotta be eighteen to get in. They’ll make you wear a stamp and they’ll double-check IDs at the bar, but you can listen and stuff. Just don’t try to buy alcohol.” I tilted my head, staring at him. He laughed. Ohhh, what a beautiful sound that is. “Joe’s bar, Saturday night.”