[Karina POV]

 

It’s the 5th day of April. I’m on a flight to New York for a 3-week vacation. I wanted to get out before I started my first year in college. Hmm, a 17-year-old on a flight alone. Seems manageable, right?

 

 

Hours after the departure, the noise and excitement simmered down to snores, silent cries, and giggles. I happened to be awake. It’s not really a surprise. I wasn’t expecting myself to sleep during the whole duration of the 11.30-hour flight to Vancouver and then to NYC.

 

 

It’s nice to be sat down next to a kind old man who tried to help me with my airplane TV. He was really gentle, funny and nice. He stands up to give way to me whenever I go to the restroom, which is something I don’t experience often. People tend to get cranky when they're on really long flights. Currently, my phone says it’s 9:06 Vancouver time. I don’t know how long I’ve been awake in all honesty. I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t seem to get myself to do anything. I’m tired of watching movies. It gets boring as time passes by. The map says we’re close, we’re passing by the Pacific Ocean. Approximately 6 hours left. But what does one do to let the dragging 6 hours pass by?

 

 

I wish I could take a shower. I feel disgusting and dirty. I have to say, this Heattech sweater that I bought from Uniqlo is thin but doesn’t get me cold. It’s really surprising, well the price was surprising too. Maybe I can play a little Tetris until I’m amused enough to watch a movie again.

 

 

The moment I stepped out of JFK Airport, the cold smacked me on the face in an instant. The place was gloomy. It must've rained last night. 

 

 

My aunt and uncle picked me up at the airport and thank god they had food with them. We were on the way to Queens, where they stay. For the first few days, it was either my Aunt Tiffany or Cousin Jaemin that taught me "the ways of New York City" pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, Sir? Very corny, Rina. So they got me a Metro card, taught me how to use the subway, took me to Times Square, and even to a METS baseball game. They were busy most of the time because I went to visit them when school already started. Auntie Tiff is a teacher, Jaemin is in college, and Uncle... I never knew what he was up to. 

 

 

When Jaemin had free time, he took me to a modern museum. It was a very aesthetic museum with projectors etc. After that, we kept walking and walking until we arrived at what looked like a family-owned authentic Shawarma place. The shawarma was so good I cried. I literally was sobbing. It was THAT good. The lady waitress went near us soon after. My introverted cousin stiffened, probably not expecting me to break down over good food. BUT CAN YOU BLAME ME? 

 

 

"Oh no! Are you okay? Do you need a tissue? Is there something wrong with our food?" the waitress said. 

"Oh! No, no! It's just that it's really good." I smiled with a runny nose.

 

 

There's always this distinct feeling of having a change of scenery. This feeling where you know you're in a place you don't usually wake up or fall asleep to. It didn't really sync in with me until a few days later. Walking on ACTUAL walkable sidewalks. The weather, the people. Being somewhere far away just feels good. You get to escape reality for a second. Or in my case, 3 weeks. 

 

 

It didn't take long until I got to form a routine here in NYC. I wake up early, my aunt prepares me breakfast and my snacks on the go, and I walk around Central Park. 

 

 

It was probably a 20-minute walk to the station. When I got there, it was overwhelming. There are many different directions and stairs that lead to the left or right side of the station, depending on which train you taking. I take the N train to Times Square. It's what my aunt taught me so that's what I must do. I get a little anxious not gonna lie. So I had to put a front. I had to act like a local. But being there for a week didn't completely get me used to it yet. If not, acting like a local only made me look more like a tourist. 

 

 

For days, I did just that. Take the N train and get to Times Square. One thing did not go unnoticed. This ginger head. A cute gingerhead with her black framed glasses and a backpack. Hmm, a student? She was small but a little shorter compared to my height. Every day, at exactly 8 a.m., she would be standing waiting for the N train in the station after mine. 

 

 

I would always sit at the same spot, given the chance that it's free. The seat near doors. So I always see her waiting to get in. She tends to stand on her toes, itching to get in. Her hands were on the straps of her backpack. She always wore a white top with a checkered flannel on in different colors. Sometimes she wears boyfriend jeans or sweatpants. Hair long enough to tie in a small ponytail and cute bangs that fall until the lids of her eyes. She's so beautiful. I am probably smitten. 

 

 

You know when the homouals have this secret language? You know... the one where you don't talk. It's all in the eyes baby. HAHAHA. What a laugh! But yes, seeing the redhead cutie every day, we formed some sort of... communication. We keep locking eyes and use gestures to get something across. Time passes by and we finally end up just sitting next to each other. No one talking. Just feeling each other's presence. When we meet, we just exchange smiles and nods, as she sits next to me in silence. 

 

 

One time, I was worried about which musical I wanted to watch. Book of Mormon or Hamilton? I furrow my brows and feel annoyed. I didn't even notice she was just standing in front of me with her eyebrows knitted, worried about who she was looking at, me. I shook my head and I heard her giggle. I heard her giggle. It was so cute that I felt a pang on my chest.  I look away, staring at nothing (because the subway is in a tunnel, so wtf do I even look at) hoping she doesn't see my flushed face. 

 

 

I don't know why we were like that. We didn't talk at all. We didn't exchange numbers or social media. We just were at that moment. Have I mentioned she smells really good? Like a soft vanilla, seeping off her clothes and whiffing through my nose. I get so frustrated because everything about her is so baby. The way she places her hands on her knees when she sits. They way her shoulders slumps when she sighs. Or when she huffs when she's frustrated. It feels as if I've known her antiques before I even get a chance to have a converstion. 
 

 

The feeling was nice. Having each other's presence, hands brushing from time to time. But also, minding our own business. It became part of my NYC routine. And I'm sure it became her daily routine as well. I mean, have you seen her body jolt up, excited to sit next to me? It was cute. Like an excited maltese, seeing their owner the moment they come home from work. It was a comforting silence. 
 

As much as I want to write more about her, her pretty smile, and our interactions, we sadly did not have a lot. It really was more of the looking at each other and the brushes of our hands and just sitting next to each other. 
 

 

But the day before I had to leave, the train was full. So I sat on the seat in front of the doors. I remember her looking worried because she couldn't find me at the usual place we sit. But when she saw me, it's like my world turned slow motion. Cliche, I already ing know. But it really does happen! I remember placing my bag between us because this time, the seats had no space for the holy spirit. Unlike the one where we usually sit. 
 

 

We were shy. I don't know why after weeks of sitting together, it's just today that we get all embarrassed like this. It was all sunshine and flowers until someone had to rain on our parade. A lady asked if I was gonna keep my bag between us. And I said no and took it to my lap. She sat between us. There was a feeling of disappointment. But then again, it was full. The seats has to be occupied by human beings and not my black jansport backpack. 
 

 

 

Just like instinct, we both leaned our head back to the window of the train and looked at each other. Pouting. It stayed like that for a few more seconds until I had to look away. My cheeks were getting red and I know she knew because she giggled. 
 

 

 

Unfortunately, I had to get off. I looked back and waved. Little did she know it was the last time we'd see each other. To this day, I still think about her. It was a cute and fun interaction. Would I look for her given the chance? Probably not. I wouldn't want to taint this wholesome silent relationship we had.

 

 

Ps. I miss u hope ure doing okay :)