The Girl Looked Back
The moment our eyes almost met…
my survival instincts kicked in.
Oh, no.
She saw me.
Without thinking, I dropped my head behind the windshield.
“…Idiot.”
I whispered it to myself. “What are you doing?”
I wasn’t hiding very well. Nobody hides inside a bright cherry-red convertible. Especially one with no roof. But somehow…
ducking behind the steering wheel felt like the only reasonable thing to do. I rubbed my forehead and let out the most embarrassed sigh of my life.
Fantastic, Charlie.
Brilliant first impression.
Spend thirty seconds staring at a random girl.
Then get caught.
Smooth.
Very smooth. I considered driving away. Unfortunately…
the traffic light had other plans. Still red. Still refusing to save me. I glanced at the timer. Thirty-four seconds.
“…Seriously?”
Thirty-four seconds suddenly felt like half my lifetime. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. Maybe…
they’d already crossed the road. Maybe they were laughing. Maybe her friend was saying—
“See? I told you he was staring.”
I buried my face in one hand.
I’m never coming to this signal again.
A tiny laugh escaped me my mouth. I wasn’t even sure why I cared. I didn’t know her. She didn’t know me. This should have been meaningless. So…
why did I suddenly care so much about what she thought?
Curiosity won. It always does. Very slowly…
I raised my head. Just enough for my eyes to peek over the windshield. The girls were still there. Thank God…
they weren’t looking at me anymore. Kate was enthusiastically talking with both hands, probably telling another dramatic story. The other girl nodded every now and then, smiling politely. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Okay…”
I muttered. “Act normal.”
As if staring at strangers was part of my daily routine. I looked away. Toward the traffic light. Toward the buses. Toward literally anything else. Five seconds. Maybe six. Then…
almost against my own will…
my eyes wandered back. She was beautiful.
Not in the loud, movie-star kind of way. Not the kind that makes everyone stop and stare the second she walks into a room. No.
She was…
comfortable. The kind of beautiful that slowly grows on you. The kind you notice more every second you look. The evening breeze gently played with the loose curls around her face. Every now and then she’d tuck one behind her ear, only for another curl to escape moments later. Her denim jacket looked slightly oversized. The sleeves covered part of her hands. She absentmindedly folded one arm while listening to Kate.
Her eyes…
I couldn’t even tell what color they were from that distance.
Dark. Warm. Soft. But somehow…
they held more expression than most people managed with words. And then something happened that I’ll probably never forget.
She laughed. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just…
a tiny laugh. Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. Her shoulders lifted a little. Her entire face brightened. It lasted maybe two seconds. But somehow…
it made the whole noisy intersection feel brighter. I found myself smiling too Without deciding to Without even realizing it.
It just…
happened.
Maybe…
people can actually feel when someone’s looking at them. Because at that exact moment…
she stopped laughing. Her smile slowly faded into quiet curiosity. She tilted her head ever so slightly. Just enough to make one loose curl fall across her cheek.
Then…
almost absentmindedly…
she turned.
Slowly. Her eyes drifted across the traffic. Past an auto-rickshaw. Past two motorcycles. Past a man selling flowers between the lanes. Past another car. And then…
they stopped.
On me.
Everything inside me…
forgot what it was supposed to do. My heartbeat skipped. Not metaphorically. Literally. One beat. Gone. I forgot to blink. Forgot to breathe. Forgot that there was a steering wheel beneath my hands. Forgot that I was sitting in the middle of one of the busiest intersections in the city. There were still hundreds of people around us.
Cars. Buses. Cyclists. Vendors. Children. The evening rush. Yet somehow…
it felt as though every single person had quietly disappeared.
There was only…
her.
And me.
No words. No smiles. No awkward waving. Just…
two complete strangers looking at each other. There wasn’t embarrassment in her eyes. Nor surprise. Just curiosity. As if she were trying to solve a puzzle she hadn’t expected to find today. And maybe…
I looked exactly the same. Because for the first time that evening…
I wasn’t looking at a beautiful girl anymore. I was looking at… a person.
Someone wonderfully, impossibly real. Someone who had probably had her own terrible mornings.
Her own friends. Her own dreams. Her own diary waiting at home. Someone who had absolutely no idea… that she’d just become the most interesting person in my entire day.
She didn’t look away. Neither did I.
A soft breeze wandered through the open roof of the convertible, ruffling my hair before dancing across the road. At almost the same moment, it lifted a few stubborn curls from her forehead. She reached up instinctively, brushing them behind her ear with the tips of her fingers.
It was such a small, ordinary movement. Yet I can still picture it perfectly. Funny how memory works. It doesn’t preserve the important things. It preserves the tiny ones. The way the light caught in her hair. The way her eyes softened. The way the city suddenly felt… quieter. For one impossible moment…
I wished that traffic signal would stay red forever.
Green
I don’t know how long we looked at each other.
Maybe… three seconds. Maybe five. Maybe less. Memory has a strange habit. It stretches moments your heart refuses to let go of.
Even today… if someone asked me how long it lasted…
I’d probably say,
“Long enough.”
Neither of us smiled. Neither of us looked away It wasn’t awkward It wasn’t romantic Not yet It was simply…
curiosity.
The kind children have when they discover something they’ve never seen before.
Who are you?
Why were you shouting?
Why do you suddenly look so… peaceful?
And I was wondering exactly the same thing.
Who are you?
Why can’t I stop looking at you?
Why does it suddenly feel like I’ve forgotten where I’m supposed to be?
Then… her friend noticed. Kate had been talking non-stop for the last minute. Apparently. I hadn’t heard a single word. She stopped in the middle of a sentence.
“…Hello?”
No response. She waved one hand in front of the girl’s face. Still nothing. Kate slowly turned. Following her friend’s eyes. Until… she found me.
A grin immediately spread across her face. “Ohhh…”
The girl blinked. Almost as if waking up from somewhere far away.
“What?”
Kate leaned closer.
“So that’s why.”
“What?”
“You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said.”
“I have.”
“Oh really?”
“What did I just say?”
The girl opened her mouth.
“…”
“…”
“…Exactly.”
A tiny laugh escaped Kate.
“I knew it.”
“I was listening.”
“No, you were looking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You still are.”
The girl instinctively looked away. Her cheeks weren’t red. Not dramatically. Just… a faint warmth that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“Kate…”
It was that same calm, older-sister voice.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You’ve done enough.”
Kate giggled. Then… very casually… she looked straight at me. My heart almost stopped again.
“Please don’t wave.”
“Please don’t wave.”
“Please don’t…”
She lifted one eyebrow. Smirked. Then looked back at her friend.
“…He’s panicking.”
“What?”
“He looks terrified.”
The girl couldn’t help herself. She looked back. Just for a second. She found me exactly where Kate had said I’d be—
completely frozen. Both hands gripping the steering wheel. Trying very hard to pretend I wasn’t looking. She almost laughed. Not at me.
Just… because somehow… the angry boy from two minutes ago suddenly looked adorably nervous.
And that…
was when the city decided we’d had enough.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPPP!!
The horn exploded behind me. I physically jumped. My heart almost escaped through my throat. “What the—”
Another horn. Then another. Someone leaned halfway out of a bus window.
“Move!”
“The signal’s green!”
Reality returned all at once. The traffic light. The cars. The buses. The crowd. The city. Everything crashed back into place.
I looked up. The light had turned green. How long had it been green?
Five seconds? Ten? I had absolutely no idea. I quickly put the car into gear. The engine answered with a smooth growl.
“Sorry…”
I muttered to absolutely nobody. The convertible rolled forward. Slowly at first. Then a little faster. Every instinct told me to keep driving. Every other instinct wanted to look back. I made it barely twenty feet. Then…
I gave up. I looked into the rear-view mirror.
She was still standing there. She hadn’t crossed yet. She wasn’t looking at the signal. She wasn’t looking at Kate. She was… looking toward the road.
Toward my car. For the smallest fraction of a second…
our eyes met again. Not directly this time. Through a mirror. It somehow felt even more impossible.
Then another car slipped between us. The mirror filled with buses. Motorcycles. People crossing. The intersection became an ordinary intersection again. She disappeared. Just like that. Gone.
I kept driving. But I wasn’t really driving anymore. My hands knew the route.
My brain… had stayed behind at that traffic signal.
I don’t remember the next two intersections.
I don’t remember changing gears.
I don’t remember the music that had started playing through the speakers.
I only remember thinking one completely ridiculous thought.
…
“I hope I see her again.”
