Simone

A little over two months ago, she hijacked my heart. I’d only been in New York for a week. I was in the process acclimating to the metro transportation system when a loud female voice jolted me. 

“Yo, what the fuck are you looking at?” she said, her raw tone laced with that New Yorker’s accent. 

She garnered the attention of everyone on that car. 

I looked up from my phone to find a stunning girl glaring at some dude standing across from her. 

“I’m looking at you, mami,” he announced with a smarmy grin. 

“I suggest you avert your eyes before I pluck them outta your fuckin’ head, hombre.” 

He laughed, which sounded forced. “You ain’t much to look at anyway, uppity black puta.” Hanging on to the railing, he made his way to my end of the car. He may have had the last word, but the scowl on his face indicated that his ego had taken a hit. 

After that, I found myself helplessly obsessed with her. 

Simone typically sat on the same bench every day, and every day I moved a little closer to her. Took me two months to muster up the courage to sit right across from her. Wonder how long it would take to occupy the same bench as her. I watched her through the throng of bodies swaying with the motion of the car, like I did every morning. I tried many times, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I never could. I was blatantly staring again. 

A shudder coasted across the walls of the vehicle, making it lurch. 

That’s when she looked up. She glanced to the left then the right and forward, where our gazes clashed.

Oh God, oh God… Oh God!   

The furious knocking beneath my chest increased. A bout of heat spread throughout my entire body. 

Please don’t curse me out. I can’t help but stare.