A Series of Scooches and Wiggles

Do you mind if I sit here?

Yeah. No! No, I mean no. I don't mind. Sorry. I'm zoning out. Sorry, wow. No, sit down, go ahead. Please.

She pats the seat and her nose scrunches up in an embarrassed grin.

Okay, great. I sit down and drop my backpack on the floor in front of my chair. I find the button on my armchair and press it, pushing the back of my seat with my shoulders. It doesn't work.

I push harder, digging my heels into the floor. Suddenly, the button clicks and the seat fully reclines.

Shit.

I lean forward and hit the button repeatedly until the seat flies forward and smacks into my back.

I look over and her nose is smiling again. Her mouth is a false frown trying to hold in a giggle.

I don't know what to say so I just make a face.

How's that going? she asks.

I roll my eyes as I push back on the seat again. Sooo good, thank you for asking.

You look like an idiot.

What? my mind asks and my eyebrows furrow in bewildered amusement. Did you just call me an idiot?

The button clicks again and I start to fly backwards once more. I catch it this time so I'm still more vertical than not. She snorts.

There's gotta be a trick to this, I grumble.

Not really, she says. I'm Steph.

Oh, yeah. Uh... I'm Andrew.

Introductions always catch me off guard. I sit back and try to feel like less of an idiot as the trees outside our window begin to slowly roll towards the back of the train.

Here we go, she says quietly. I convince myself that she was just thinking out loud and don't respond.

She's in a red sweatshirt with dirty blond hair tied in a pony tail. She can't be any older than me, I figure. Thin framed glasses sit on her nose and her head rocks back and forth to music playing in her head.

It is silent for a moment and I begin to close my eyes when she turns back to me.

You ever ridden on one of these things before?

A couple times, I say with a nod.

They take so long, don't they?

Six hours. Well, if you're going to Chicago it's about six hours.

Yeah, I'm going to Chicago. She lifts her feet up onto her seat and crosses her legs. You live in Chicago?

I go to school there.

I don't live there really, either. My brother does.

Cool.

Yeah. He got into an accident.

Oh wow... I'm sorry.

Yeah. He's not dead or anything, though.

Oh. Well... uh... that's good.

Yeah.

And we're silent. It's my turn, but I can't find anything to say. I look forward while she goes back to the window.

Nothing is said for the rest of the trip until she needs to use the restroom. I scooch back as far as I can into my chair like a jerk while she tries to wiggle elegantly past my legs and into the aisle.

Gentlemen are supposed to stand up for ladies, aren't they? I feel like a turd.

I start to doze off and my eyes close. Minutes later she taps me on the shoulder. I start to scoot back in my chair again, but suddenly my mind double clutches and decides to be a gentleman. I move to stand up, but because I've already begun the scooch she's already begun the wiggle past. And as my feet are tucked under my chair, the only way for me to stand is to bend my knees and arch my belly up and out to hoist myself upwards. We end up in an awkward tableau and she shimmies back out into the aisle.

Oh my, she says with a smile. Thank you, sir.

My brain doesn't register this as it is too focused on being embarrassed and after she takes her seat I slowly sit down again myself.

Eyes close. Nothing until Chicago.

We arrive at Union Station and I grab my bag. She grabs hers and I am all too aware of her presence as she follows me out of the train. She strolls along at my side down the platform.

My brain thinks of a number of things to say but can't pick one to save its life.

So nothing is said until we escape into the station through sliding glass doors.

Bye, she says turning left.

Oh, uh... yeah, I mutter turning right.

Good-byes always catch me off guard.

Bye.

She smiles with her nose one last time and we go our separate ways.