Cue The Cute Boy

There’s a guy that I like who I shall not name for the sake of, well, secrecy? (What will we call him? Mr. X is taken. The Uber Hottie  and That Guy is taken [WAY TO STEAL TWO AMBIGUOUS GUY CODE NAMES, ELODIE]. What about BOY? I’m open for alternative suggestions).

I’ve known him for a few years now, and I’ve kinda-sorta-liked him for about three quarters of that time. Usually, the only time I get to see BOY is on the train or the bus to uni, and it’s totally random what day it will be. So it’s like I’m in a perpetual state of crush-alert when I’m on public transport (which is, as you’ve probably gathered, most week days).

The sun was particularly sunny this morning as I waited on the platform for the train to show up, when BOY pulled up with four minutes to spare. My immediate reaction was “YES! NO! HIDE? WAVE?” All at once. Since he was about 100 metres away, on the other side of a group of people, I resolved to “Keep It Cool” and “Act Natural.” So obviously I stood staring straight ahead as I alternated between holding my left wrist and my right elbow ever so nonchalantly.

I do this awkward thing in front of people (I like) where I can’t quite remember how to function. It’s virtually imperceptible unless you’re within a five metre radius of me (which BOY was, but I’ll get to that). I’ll alternate between hair tucking, leg crossing, phone checking, and looking-out-the-window-whilst-actually-being-more-interested-in-other-things-namely-you.

It was 10:39 am and the train was pulling into the station and BOY was walking STRAIGHT TOWARDS ME. I fixed my skirt self-consciously and in an extreme exercise of self-control, I was able (just barely) to convert my all-caps thoughts to regular ones, and I said, “Hi.”

He said, “Hi, how’s it going?” in that tortuously laid-back way of his, and I replied with, “Good, and you?” He introduced me to his familiar-faced friend and we found seats adjacent to each other.

Most of the trip I just sat, trying to read Mai 68 raconté a ceux qui ne l’ont pas vécu for French class and occasionally adding to their discussion. At one point, BOY referred to a band he’s seeing as “the best of the best in the Scottish indie rock scene,” which was kind of great.

Then we got to his stop, and BOY said, “Alright, I’m off. See you later.” And I’m thinking “easy, breezy, confident goodbye” but I there’s a moment of sheer panic where I seem to have lost my ability to use my vocal chords, and then blurt out “Okay. See ya.” Oh God. That was so stone-cold. Did I smile? Was that my voice?

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