Hey there check out part 2 here.
He was looking at me and I was looking at him through the glass. The monotone voice alerted me to mind the gap and I hopped onto the train just before the doors closed. I glanced around looking for a seat, and once again we made eye contact. I sat down opposite to him on a worryingly warm fabric seat. And then we were moving. I kept hold of my bag, as I glanced at him once again. He was still looking at me.
I couldn’t help but blush and he seemed to notice. He smiled at me and then I looked down and took a notepad of some sorts out of his backpack. As he started to write my eyes flicked off him, as did my thoughts. I checked the time on my phone; 11:20. I needed to be in the cafe by 12, so I had plenty of time. This was one of the most important days of my life and I had dressed accordingly. Black lacy skirt, grey hopeless romantic top, black blazer and my trusty black wedge heels.
After grabbing a mint from my bag, my eyes drifted back up to him. Still writing, I started to analyse him a little more. Around 5’11, green eyes, light brown hair and a rather prominent jaw line. He looked around 16 , and whatever he was writing was keeping him occupied because he had barely moved in the time I had been looking at him. He was attractive, very attractive in fact. There was something about him. He made me feel full and he seemed so familiar. Like somehow I had known him all my life.
Just as I was starting to make up a back story to this mysterious, handsome boy, the stop before mine was announced and I checked through my bag and then stood up. As I stood he looked up and smiled and got up himself. He walked to the door behind me and we just stood. Suddenly my phone went off and I typed out a quick reply to the message;
Friend: Good luck with today, your going to do great.xxx
Me: Thanks, I can’t wait xxx
As I placed my phone back in my pocket, I felt like something had touched my bag. But by the time I looked down, there was nothing there and the doors were just about to open. I jumped out and dashed up the escalator to the cafe. The natural light was a bit of a shock to my eyes, but I carried on walking.
I reached the coffee shop and went to the toilet. I fixed up my hair and makeup and pulled my skirt down a little. Then I went to grab a Thai latte and sat down with 5 minutes to spare. After playing Candy Crush on my phone for 2 minutes I decided to get out my pen and notebook ready for the meeting. Just as I put my hand into the bag I felt a stray piece of cartridge paper. It was folded neatly into 4, so I could barely resist the temptation to open it.
As I opened it I saw a paragraph written in neat handwriting;
Dear gorgeous girl,
The minute you sat down on the train I wanted to talk to you. But I couldn’t pluck up the courage to do so, so I figured I would do this. I know it is rather immature to write a love letter but I didn’t know how to approach you.
You are really beautiful. And I’m not just being nice. You are like my dream girl. In fact I think you are the girl I have been dreaming about for the last few months. Your smile makes me want to smile. You make me feel complete inside.
Ok end of the lovey dovey stuff. Here is my phone number if you would like to meet up sometime 027478493.
I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t believe some random, attractive boy on a train had written me a love letter. And then just as I was about to fold the letter up and put it safely in my pocket, I saw the image on the back. He had sketched me. It was in no way a complete sketch, he hadn’t had the time. But it was beautiful. It looked like me, but a beautiful version of me.
‘Miss Ericson?’ I was snapped from my thoughts by a man asking for me by name. ‘Over here. I presume you are Mr Seerman.’ I said in reply. ‘Yes, yes I am. Shall we begin.’ And so the meeting began. I had approached Mr Seerman’s company for a publishing deal for my first book. I had been emailed back very quickly saying that I would get the chance to meet a representative, as the firm believed my book was a high priority.
The meeting had gone well. We had set up dates and times and I had been given lots of forms and information to look over. As I walked out of the cafe, I got out the piece of paper and dialed the number.
‘Hi. I’m Charlotte, the girl from the train,’ I said, rather nervously.
Laugh til you cry, love til you die.