A Collection Of Short Stories | ✔

Lovers At 5:52 - Part One

Zoya was impatiently waiting for the 5:52 train, her feet tapping on the tiled floor and her hands constantly adjusting the straps of her backpack. She was exhausted from a long day at college and couldn't wait to get home. She would shower for an hour, tending to each strand of her greasy hair and washing her grubby face.

Before the train even arrived, she was shoved ahead with the rushing crowd and as the doors slid open, she stumbled in a daze. Her tired eyes instinctively searched for an empty seat and fortunately, it was right in front of her. She quickly sat, avoiding people's glares who were also aiming for the same seat. With a sly smile, she dug in her pocket and retrieved her earphones.

Just as she looked up, her eyes locked into alluring hazel ones which twinkled mischievously. He had caught her triumphant smile of capturing the seat. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she hastily glanced down at her phone, pretending to choose a song. She could feel him staring at her so she lowered her head further. All she wanted was to shrink into a small, cuddly ball and roll under the seat.

She clumsily got up and shuffled towards the door, fifteen minutes before her stop arrived. The boy now had his earphones stuffed in his ears and his eyes shut peacefully. The sinking sun's last golden rays spilled on his tanned face, his skin appearing luminous and his hair looking like silky caramel. How did he manage to look so magnificent at the end of the day, she had no clue about.

His eyes fluttered open and Zoya panicked, hurrying outside the door, realising later that she had stepped on the wrong station and hers was yet to arrive. With a loud groan and a childish stomp, she irritatedly watched the train go. All because of a boy she was never going to see again.

* * *

Zoya had been wrong because here she was, sitting right opposite to the boy with hazel eyes, the next day. She pretended to be busy with her phone, occasionally glancing at him only to find him genuinely occupied with his phone. She was curious who he was texting to and what, but she mostly kept her head down.

A sick man with a bunch of wet tissues in his hands accommodated the seat next to her and sneezed loudly right on her face.

Her head jerked up as she felt water droplets on the side of her face. Feeling disgusted, she slowly wiped it off with the sleeve of her t-shirt. Then their eyes met again, those naughty hazel eyes boring into hers. He looked partly amused as he gently patted the vacant seat beside him, feeling sorry for her.

"Here," he mouthed with a cheeky grin.

The next few minutes were a blur to Zoya who somehow mustered enough courage to sit beside him, her clammy hands clutching her backpack tightly against her chest and earphones dangling on her neck.

"Thanks." She didn't mean that to come out curt and ungracious, but her shyness took hold of her tongue.

Nevertheless, he smiled, that beautiful smile of his.

* * *

The entire weekend Zoya thought of him and kicked herself mentally for not speaking. On Monday, she dashed outside her college as her best friend called after her, "Going to meet the 5:52 train boy huh?"

She stopped dead on her tracks, fighting a blush. "Nothing like that . . ."

"You know, nothing's going to happen right? Like I don't mean to make you feel bad, but I don't want you to get hurt in the end. He won't fall for a random girl he meets on the train and if he does, I'm sure it's his thing of hitting on every girl he meets."

"Uh yeah," Zoya replied forlornly, then she shook her head. "Yeah, yeah, of course I know, it's nothing really. Anyway, I have to reach home early to help ma cook so I can't miss this train. Bye!"