He looked at me. Pale eyes searching, yearning. His mouth was half open in lustfulness.

He mouthed something dirty, something sexual and appealing. I wanted to melt into him, to be swallowed whole by all of him. I wanted to be taken, rough and hard. I wanted to feel his breath on my neck, his body tense and tight as he climaxed.

But the moment passed. The train moved on, his carriage going north, mine heading south. Him into the city, me back home to my house. My cold, still, lonely house.

“What a laugh” Dave said, between his fits of giggles and rocking forward. “What a pisser!”

He was telling the story of the train ride in. By his account, if I let him go on, I might have actually fucked her through the windows.

“All I did was mime some fuck words” I said to the others. I turned to Dave “By the sound of it you got a boner over the whole thing, you perv!”

“Oh you’d like a big one from me eh?” Dave gestured the approximate length of his ‘big one’.

“Get off Dave, I’ve see ya after footy there’s nothing big there”

More jeers and gestures from the gang.

I tuned out and thought again about the girl on the train. She was cute in a bookish, geek girl way. Her glasses and hair were the kind you imagined a librarian would have. The cardigan a soft plain brown.

I really thought we had connected. If only I wasn’t such an arse about it.

“Fuck” I said then quickly covering my outburst. “I need a drink, my round” I headed to the bar more to clear my head than buy more drink.

She was at the bar looking straight at me.

I did it, I actually did it. I got out at the next station and headed back into the city. I don’t know why I just knew I had to go back. I had to follow and find that boy.

He was everything I hated about men. The short hair shaved at the sides, clean shaven but so very masculine. He wore fashionable clothes whose price tag would have given me head spins thinking about. He was as neat as a gay man but as crass as a jock. All the mix of things I hated in men, and boys.

He had actually mouthed obscene words at me through a train window. His tongue had mimed acts that I certainly wouldn’t do on a first, or maybe even tenth date.  

I was a strong independent woman. I didn’t need a man to define me. I didn’t need someone to fuck me. Yet here I was, in a club I had no right to be in, with people around me I hated and loathed. Watching him. Watching him and his mates.

I watching him thinking, while he ignored the crew around him. I saw him speak and walk away. Then he saw me.

Shit. Shit, shit shit I thought. What the actual hell?

“Hi” she said to me, putting out a hand. Before I knew it I was shaking it and returning the hello.

“Sorry about, you know, the train. That was fucking stupid.” She grimaced as I spoke. “Shit sorry I didn’t mean to swear. Oh crap” I managed to stop and stay silent.

“No, it’s OK. I just…my friends don’t swear much”

“Mine do” I said. “Do you want a drink?”

She looked around her. She looked awkward and out of place. Her long skirt, white blouse and cardigan were not the normal fashion for a place like this.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” I suggested. “Coffee?”

“Yes” she said. “That would be nice.”

Coffee. Coffee was safe. Coffee was easy. I could do coffee. I thought, then. 

What the hell am I doing here? I should be at home. I should be making dinner for one. My Kitchen Rules is on tonight!

I pushed that thought aside and suggested the well lit, frequently visited but crap tasting franchise coffee place down the street. The rules for a first date, public, open, escapeable and known. Not that I feared the young man, it just pays to be wary.

Quill and Axe is a creative writing and copywriting services. For more information email quoting Quill and Axe.
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