How I Met Your…

I ride this bus every morning, and it’s always the same. The driver boxed up in front, cut off from everyone else, old passengers dozing off in their seats in front, the young early birds comfortable at the back lost in their phone screens, and the rest of us condemned to stand all through the ride to our stops. I hate having to stand on the bus. I sway with each turn, jerk forward at each sudden stop. It’s a battle not to fall and disgrace myself in front of a dozen strangers. Today’s story’s the same, but with a slight difference — a girl, a really beautiful girl. She makes my fight not to fall today all that more intense.

Lots of things are beautiful: the sun, half the people on the bus, hell even the bus itself is beautiful, but this girl, she stands out, more than the sun itself. Tall, short hair, dark brown skin, she looks a perfect picture as she leans against the side of the bus, unreal almost, like an ethereal projection meant to mess with my mind.

I want to say something, anything, but that might be rude. She has her airpods in, nodding along to a song I can’t hear. I psyche myself up for minutes, praying at every stop that she doesn’t get off before I get a chance to speak with her.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I ask myself as the bus comes to a halt at another stop and my heart crunches as she moves from where she’s standing. It’s okay, she only moves a step to let someone through. She’s not getting off just yet, but I might not be so lucky next time. I stare down at my Nike shoes and tell myself, “Just do it.”

I turn to her and ask, with my voice at its most polite, “Please what’s the time?”

She blinks and inclines her head, failing to hear me over the music playing in her ears. She removes the left earpiece and glares back at me. “Pardon?”

My pulse goes into overdrive as her brown pupils zero in on me. I clear my throat.

“I asked for the time.”

She checks the red Swiss watch on her wrist, rears her head back at me presumably to answer, then pauses abruptly.

“What’s wrong with yours?” She says, her eyes falling to the watch around my wrist.

Damn it. I’d totally forgotten I had my watch on. I could have literally asked anything but I chose to ask that? God I can be stupid at times. I say the first thing that pops into my mind.

“Um…erm…it’s not working.” But that’s the moment the second hand of the watch decides it should start ticking louder.

I can see the doubt spread across her face. “Sounds like it’s working just fine to me.”

“Believe me, it’s not,” I argue, my heartbeat racing like Lewis Hamilton at a Grand Prix.

She shrugs. For a second, my tense muscles relax, relieved she’s accepted my life, but then she asks, “What about your phone then?”

She nudges with her head to the phone in my left hand.

Great. I totally forgot about that too. I really should have started this conversation off with something completely different.

“Or is that not working either?” The sarcasm in her voice is salacious.

Maybe there’s still a way out of this.

“What if I told you, I don’t know how to tell time?”

She bursts into laughter. She laughs so hard and so freely until she starts to snort. My God, she has a really ugly laugh for a lady so beautiful, but that’s the best kind of laugh there is.

“You don’t know how to tell time?” She asks, incredulous that I expect her to believe such an excuse.

“Yeah, I skipped that class in primary school. That whole week in fact. I was sick. Almost died.”

“I’m sure that’s true, just like everything else you’ve said to me this morning.”

It’s a good thing she’s taking my lies in good stride. This could have gone completely wrong. And as long as she’s willing to play along, I’ll continue.

“Absolutely,” I say to her. “I wouldn’t have bothered disturbing you I could tell time myself.”

Her eyes shine as she chuckles and shakes her head playfully. “I wonder how you’ve survived all this time.”

“On the good will of strangers,” I reply with a straight face, “but the stranger I’m relying on today is being particularly difficult.”

She doesn’t stop smiling. Her eyes crinkle at the corners in the cutest way. The conversation feels much easier now, gone is the tension that me clam up before.

“Well there’s like a hundred people on this bus. You’re free to go find someone else more willing to tell you the time.”

I arch an eyebrow at her statement and glance at the other passengers. “A hundred? There’s fewer than thirty people on this bus. Looks like you skipped a class in primary school too. The counting class.”

She bursts into laughter again, throwing her head back as the air warms with the sound of her voice. “Oh good one. Well I was sick too. Missed that whole week in fact. Almost died.”

“In that case,” I say, “this is fate. You could teach me to tell time, and I’ll teach you how to count.”

Her eyes shift to the window. We’re approaching another stop. Must be where she gets off.

She returns her attention to me. Her smile dims. “A little too late for both of us now. But tell you what—”

She reaches for my phone, adds her number to my contacts and saves it with her name, “Simi”.

“Call me next time you need to ask what the time is. This way you don’t have to keep disturbing strangers.”

She walks to the bus’ door and leaves me stunned. I simply can’t believe my luck. She’s already off the bus when I realize I didn’t tell her my name, so I rush off to the door and say, “You didn’t ask me for my name.”

The bus’s door starts to close.

“That’s because I already know what to call you.” She smiles as the door close between us. “See you around, Stranger.”