Windswept Read online

I glanced at him from my periphery, tracing over him without making my head move an inch. His nose, his mouth, and then I looked at his eyes . . . his eyelashes.

  I looked away, wondering if I should say something. I wanted to say something, but what?

  Hey, I think you’re . . . cool-looking? Yeah, right.

  The subway suddenly felt unbearably hot and crowded, but I didn’t want to leave. If my subway ride had lasted forever, I wouldn’t have minded. The only thing I wanted was for him to notice me, or maybe he had and he was just avoiding me. Which was worse? Did he even remember me from yesterday?

  Then he finally tilted his head toward me, and I bravely looked up in return.

  “So . . .” he paused for a moment, and out of the corner of my eye I could see his chest rising and falling. “Is this going to become a regular thing?” His voice was nice—had the smallest rasp to it on the back end.

  A regular thing? I had no idea what he was talking about, but then it dawned on me.

  “Oh, here?” He actually remembers me. I smiled shortly and looked over at him again. I had a hard time breathing when I did. His eyes were a soft brown, like velvet. They stared straight into mine. “I think the odds are against us,” I said, distracted.

  “Maybe, or maybe we can see what happens tomorrow.” A smile crept into his lips.

  I could barely breathe.

  “I guess we’ll see then.”

  “I guess so,” he answered. There was something about him, something that . . . my parents wouldn’t approve of. Ugh, I hated even thinking the words. But it was there. Something unknown that made my heart race.

  Then my stop came, and I had to get off. I stood reluctantly and was about to leave when he said, “Wait.”

  I looked back and he was holding out my hat.

  “You forgot it yesterday,” he offered.

  I went to take it, and we both held onto it for a moment too long, the hat suspended between us like an offering.

  He finally let it go and I said thanks. “You’re welcome.”

  I left just before the doors closed.

  We looked at each other through the window again as the train pulled away, and I secretly and stupidly couldn’t wait until the next day.

  SAM

  NEW YORK, UNITED STATES

  I FOUND THE MISSING PIECE! THE TIP OF THE tower was finished, and I saw now that it was more tower than sky, rather than what I’d originally thought. I felt a small feeling of completeness now that I had the whole top half done. I always went from top to bottom—I didn’t know why.

  “Sam? You awake?” Mom asked from the floor below me. I could hear her shuffling around in her bedroom. Dad left early this morning before I’d even woken.

  “Yeah, I’m up,” I half-yelled back.

  She peeked inside my door. “Sam, I actually need to talk to you.”

  “Okay. What about?” I pulled on my hoodie and started putting my bag together. She walked over and sat on the edge of my bed.

  “We decided to take an early anniversary trip this week.”

  I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “And where are you going?”

  Mom shrugged, smiling. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “Oooooh!” I was excited for them, and yet I still had an uneasy feeling in my stomach, the one that had been around for a few days now, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on or find a name for. But I kept my happy face on for her, knowing how much the trip meant. They hadn’t been able to go away together in years.

  “So you’re okay with it?” she asked. “You know I’ll always change my plans if you need me to.”

  I shook my head and finished packing my bag. “No, it’s fine, really. Besides, Levi will be here.” I turned, swinging my bag onto my back. “I think it’s good. When will you be leaving?”

  “Early Friday morning.” Mom stood and started to leave, pausing at my door. “You have a good day, all right? I’ll see you tonight.”

  I nodded and she left. The door closed downstairs and Levi’s collar rattled softly as he walked back into the kitchen. As I stood there, needing to get to school, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My hair was again pulled back into the smallest ponytail with the rest of the short strands hanging over my ears and around my face. My bangs would need a trim soon, but since I wasn’t a fan of them, it would mean growing them out, which was always awkward. I wasn’t sure which option was worse.

  Everything familiar stared back, and I silently wondered what the guy from the train thought about me. I wasn’t flashy or stylish—I was just me.

  Meanwhile, he could have been on some sort of magazine cover or maybe a self-made Instagram star, especially with those eyelashes. I blushed—whoever and whatever he was, he would have to either take me the way I was . . . or not at all.

  Somehow the odds of that possibility seemed too great, and yet I dared to hope just the same. I pushed down the self-doubt and tried to be confident about myself and how I looked, so I gave my reflection a small approving nod.

  Today was the same as the day before—sunny and cold, but for once the weather was the least of my worries. The only thing my mind could wrap around was my upcoming subway ride and, for the first time, how much I was looking forward to it. School dragged on, as always, and my eyes constantly found the clock, marking down the minutes and hours. I was glad when it was finally over.

  I wanted to see him again. I had already admitted that fact to myself before I had gone to sleep the night before. I wanted to see him again.

  I was nearly running by the time I got to the station with my heart pounding, and my stomach felt uneasy again. The anticipation was killing me. By the time I reached the stairs, the roar of the subway was already in my ears. It bounced off the cement walls of the tunnel, and it felt as though I was entering a dragon’s cave. I let the adrenaline sink in, almost thriving on it, and hurried down the steps.

  The knots in my stomach got worse by the second, and I suddenly started doubting the whole situation over again. Should I just walk home? What if he wasn’t on the train? I didn’t have time to worry about it. I headed to the last train car and boarded with a few others.

  I spotted him instantly, because how could I not?

  The doors slid shut behind me and I walked over, taking a seat directly across from him. A smile slipped into the corners of his mouth, and he glanced at the few people around us before coming over to sit next to me.

  “The view is better over here,” he said.

  I glanced at the wall full of ads that he gestured to and smiled.

  “Right.”

  “So,” he started, “I guess the odds are better than we thought.”

  “Or maybe you’re stalking me.”

  His eyes narrowed and one side of his mouth went up. “That would be hard since I was on the train before you.”

  “I suppose that’s a good point.” But still . . . it’s hard to believe it’s just a coincidence, isn’t it?

  “Have you ever stalked someone?” he asked, turning just a little more to face me. “It seems like you don’t know a lot on the subject.”

  I smirked. “And you do know a lot about the subject?”

  He shook his head, his dark hair shifting a little over his forehead. “It’s not part of my skill set. And if it was, I’m not sure I would tell anyone.”

  “What is in your skill set?” I asked.

  His gaze drifted away as he thought about it. When he turned back, he asked, “Do you have a piece of paper?”

  I opened my bag and tore a piece out of my Moleskine notebook without thinking twice. I handed it to him, and he said, “Perfect.”

  While he was busy tearing the paper into a square, I asked, “So what brings you onto my train—job, school, tourist?”

  He shrugged, his eyes on the paper. “Nah, I just felt like it.”

  “You felt like it? Nobody just feels like riding the subway.”

  “And why is that?” he inquired, his eyes glancing
up.

  I felt my face twist into something close to disdain. “Because it’s the subway. It’s small and crowded, and it usually smells like rotten chicken.”

  “Maybe, but I still enjoy it. Have you ever ridden the subway just to see where it takes you? You go underground one street, and the next time you come out, you could be almost anywhere.” He smiled crookedly again, and I wondered when I would see a full smile from him and what it would look like. I could tell it had to be amazing from the little pieces I kept seeing. “That’s what I like about it,” he continued. “I’m guessing you have an actual reason to be here, since you beg to differ.”

  I nodded, letting his reason sink in, thinking that it didn’t sound so bad. I’d never ridden the subway for no reason, but now I sort of wanted to. I didn’t get out of the city much, but I always had the desire to go to different places. The problem was that I never liked traveling. Planes were just as bad as subways, and cars drove too slowly for my liking. There was no source of transportation that I truly liked.

  But maybe this would be a good place to start. Just exploring my own city some more.

  “I have to ride it because of school.” And then I asked, because I couldn’t hold in it any longer, “You’ve really done that before?”

  “Done what?” His fingers started folding the paper and I tried my best not to stare, seeing how gentle and precise they were.

  I cleared my throat, and my thoughts, and said, “Ride the subway for fun?”

  His fingers paused folding and he glanced at the floor in front of us, thinking. Then he looked at me again and nodded. “Yeah, sometimes I get on one train just to get on another, never really looking at where it’s taking me.”

  After a pause, he asked, “What do you like to do for fun?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’ll think I’m boring.”

  “Then we’d be on the same page,” he replied.

  “You think you’re boring?” I raised an eyebrow, thinking there was probably nothing boring about him.

  “I’m riding the subway for the heck of it. What other proof do you need?”

  He had a point. “Well, I like jigsaw puzzles and watching anime.”

  The boy smiled crookedly at me, and my heart rate jumped again. “What are you, retired?” he joked and then immediately said, “I’m sorry, that was a joke. Sometimes my sarcasm doesn’t translate.”

  “Oh, really? I didn’t pick up on it.”

  We shared a smirk.

  Then the train started slowing down, and it was already time to get off. He seemed to know it, too, frowning slightly.

  “Your stop?”

  I nodded. To be honest, right then I had no idea what to do. Obviously, I wanted to see him again, but I also didn’t want to ask for his number. What if he said no?

  “Here.” He held out the paper, which had turned into a tiny origami elephant. I took it carefully, afraid to bend it and mess it up.

  “See?” he said. “I’m boring, too.”

  “Anything but boring.”

  “I was thinking the same.”

  Even though his words were simple, he meant for them to be more.

  I stood, still cupping the little elephant in my palm.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

  My stomach tossed and I nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  REID

  MAINE, UNITED STATES

  I WOULD SEE HER AGAIN TODAY. I COULDN’T STOP thinking that I would, but it never seemed real enough. I felt so foolish when I talked to her; I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to be smooth and composed, but underneath, where my heartbeat and my stomach stirred, everything seemed to be on fire, on fire while riding a roller coaster.

  I didn’t know how to talk to girls, especially ones I liked.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d never liked a girl this much before. Which seemed stupid and foolish since we were strangers on a train with nothing more than a handful of exchanged words between us.

  I stared out across the bay, and the fresh scent of coffee reached my nose. The bell to the café somewhere behind me kept dinging as people went in and out. My stomach growled, but I kept my eyes on the dark water below. I’d decided last night that I would surprise her by meeting her on the train in the morning. She would expect me later in the day, but I knew I couldn’t wait that long. I thought about how carefully she held the elephant in her palm after I handed it to her, like it was something precious. Stupidly, I thought about how her hand would feel in mine.

  Then I felt like I was being creepy for already thinking about holding her hand. I hated having chunks of days where I had nothing to do. Time gave my mind room to roam around memories I didn’t want to have or ones I wanted to forget. It was easy to push them away when I was occupied, but times like these were torture.

  If I closed my eyes, I would see things that haunted me. If I thought about things too deeply, something large would crawl up my throat and stay there, not willing to go away until I forced it to. I needed to always be doing something.

  “Hey, this is a private dock,” a voice called behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw a man standing there, holding his cup of coffee and wearing a crisp suit. Maybe he owned one of the fancy yachts I was standing too close to. Adults were always suspicious about teenage loiterers being up to no good. My rugged appearance probably never helped.

  “My father owns one,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, which one?” he challenged, not believing me for a second.

  God, he was annoying. I turned and walked past him, heading toward the road.

  “Hey, kid!”

  I could hear him walking after me. The soles of his shoes were loud on the dock, whereas mine were silent. When I got up to the road and turned around the corner of the café, I could have sighed in relief. Suddenly, the sound of the man’s shoes and the smell of the ocean in Portland were replaced by the roar of the subway and the scent of polluted air from the hundreds of taxi cabs above me on the streets of New York.

  Right about now, the man would turn the corner and nothing but a brick wall would stare back at him.

  The side of my mouth lifted at the thought of his confused face. There was nothing like spending a morning in Portland, screwing with annoying rich men.

  I wasn’t sure what train she would be on in the morning, so I waited where I could see the stairs. A few minutes passed, and then I saw her coming down from the sidewalk above. She wore the same knitted beanie I’d returned to her over her short hair, and her cheeks were pink from the cold morning air. If I waited any longer, she would see me, so I focused on the arriving train. It was about a minute away. I quickly drifted to the opposite end of the car where she always sat.

  By the time the train stopped, it took everything I had to keep my leg from bouncing nervously. What if she had decided she didn’t like me? And even more, what would happen if we went further than this? My question was left hanging as the doors opened.

  I watched her walk in and take a quick sweep of the people around her, but she didn’t notice me, didn’t know to look for me. Her eyes lingered on the place we had been sitting for the last two days—maybe just a coincidence, and then she took a seat down near the other end, brushing some of her hair away from her face. The moment she turned, I stood from my seat and walked over.

  I slid smoothly into the seat next to hers and sat back, placing my bag on my lap. She still didn’t notice that it was me. She seemed to be thinking deeply about something, her eyes staring into the corner but looking at nothing.

  Being close to her again made my heart pound. Her soft scent filled my nose: laundry detergent and something I couldn’t place. Whatever it was, I couldn’t get enough of it.

  An extreme wave of doubt suddenly washed over me, and I almost bolted for it right then. Did it actually make me a stalker now that I was seeing her on the morning train, too? Did I
seem too desperate? How could I be so stupid to ever think I could pull this off?

  I was about to make a break for it and abandon my place, but then she looked at me and it was too late. She nearly jumped at the sight of me next to her, but I couldn’t mistake the small smile when she realized it was me. Suddenly my self-doubt melted away and all I knew was that I had to try to get her to smile like that again. Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

  “Well, I’m sorry for the disappointment.” It took everything I had to keep my voice calm. I was just as nervous as I had been the day before.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not disappointed. Just . . . surprised.” Her eyes flickered over once before she asked, “Seriously, how do you keep doing this?”

  “Keep doing what?” I couldn’t help but smile.

  I could have sworn I saw her blush a little.

  “You keep finding me. How do you do it? There are like, dozens of trains.”

  “Have you always had your hair short?” I asked instead of answering.

  “You’re changing the subject.” She narrowed her eyes, but I could tell that she wasn’t mad or annoyed.

  “Because I’m avoiding the question.”

  When was the last time I smiled so much? The action felt odd and out of place but not wrong. Like my mouth wasn’t used to doing this totally normal thing and had to relearn it.

  She answered me anyway, “Yes, ever since I was ten, or something. It’s just easier. But you can’t keep avoiding the question forever.”

  “So you ride the subway for school, right? How long have you done that?” I started again.

  She hesitated and I wondered how long I could keep up this charade. “Yeah, I used to live within walking distance, but we moved houses over the summer.”

  Her hands absently played with the hat in her lap, and I glanced at her fingers and thought about the elephant I had made her again and how gently she held it. I shifted straighter in my seat and cleared my throat.

  “But you don’t like it,” I said. “School, I mean.”