Marie Fellows

After weeks of continuously staring at a beautiful girl on the train, a guy who is completely infatuated with her decides to take a chance and approach her. But can he bring himself to do it?

There she was sitting next to the window on the train. She was so beautiful that I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Looking at her was like watching the sunset from a roof top in Manhattan. The sunset coming in from outside glowed around her. It was almost like she had a halo over her head. She had short red brown hair which made it even better. The look on her face was a bored one; however, she seemed enamored by the sunset and buildings outside. Her left hand was pressed against her cheek. She wore nothing special though; all she had on was a plain red shirt, a pair of blue jeans and some red &white Nikes. Still, with beauty like that she could pull off just about anything she wore.

Me? I sat further away from her. We were the only two people on the train. So, why was I sitting there admiring this girl when I could have been talking to her? I guess you could say it was fear, insecurity and intimidation or whatever you want. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and say something despite the opportunity. This wasn’t the first time I saw this girl on the train before. Every Sunday at around five in the afternoon she gets on the K train at Mason Street and rides it out until North Park. Every time I saw her I’d just stare and admire her from afar, only wondering what it’d be like if I actually got up off my a*s and tried talking to her.

I’d play this one song from time she got on until she got off. It was called “Passing Me By” by The Pharcyde. The problem I was going through was similar to what the rappers in the song were talking about " only they had the courage actually do something about it. I was indeed letting her pass me by repeatedly. As much as I wanted to say something, there wasn’t much I could say. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t her type; I’m an average looking dude and I’m short so that’s adding more pain to the wound. “How would you know if you’re not her type?” is what you’re probably asking. Beautiful women go for men on that are on their level, or at least those confident in themselves. Most likely you have confidence. I, on the other hand don’t.

Anyway, the day I’m going to tell you about was different. I was coming from the studio after recording a couple of songs and got on the K train. After a few stops it arrived at Mason Street. There she was as usual " looking some kind of bored and unbelievably gorgeous. She sat down where she normally sat and stared out the window at the project buildings as the train passed by them. I did what I always did when she got on the train: put on “Passing Me By” and leaned back in the seat. My phone went dead after two stops so I put it away and sighed.

There was nothing for me to do now. I didn’t feel like staring at her the entire ride like I usually did. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Even with my eyes closed I could still see her there, staring out of the window. After a couple of minutes of silence it hit me. This girl always looked bored when she got on the train. I mean, she was on the train for 20 minutes with no phone or anything. All she did is stare out of the window. Whether that was a calming thing for her I don’t know. All I knew was that I had a chance. There was one problem " she was going to get off in seven stops. I had to act fast. We had already reached Wyden Street by the time I stood up.

Six more stops to go.

I was up already. The only thing I had to do was walk to the seat next to the third pair of doors, sit down and say hi or some simple s**t. Unfortunately I wasn’t moving. I don’t know what it was, but the thought of actually going over there was more terrifying than riding the Nitro as Six Flags. What was I going to say? How was I going to say it? How could I not make myself look like a fool in front of this girl? My heart was at beating at its max.

That was it. I couldn’t do it so I sat down and sighed again, ashamed of myself. The train stopped Terrace Street but nobody got on. I put my hand on my head and closed my eyes.

Five more stops to go.

I got up again and walked a little. I had made a little bit of progress since the first attempt. This time I really believed I was going to go through with it. Unfortunately, some annoying kids came running through the train. I was about five feet away from my seat when turned to look at them and rolled her eyes. Since they were in a group and I was standing behind them she didn’t see me. Still, I was aggravated. They got off at Hughes Boulevard and the car was restored to silence.

Four more stops to go.

So I stood up again and started walking but slowly. While I was on my way there I thought about what I was going to say again. A conversation started forming in my head. It went like:

“What’s up? You look bored” I said as I sat down next to her.

“I am bored” she said then turned to look at me.

“Why? You had a hard day at work?” I asked curiously and interested.

She sighed and said “You know it. I’m glad the day is almost over though”.

“So, what’s your name?” I asked hoping she wouldn’t give me a funny look.

I woke up out of the day dream and found myself standing in the middle of the train like an idiot. She probably saw me while I zoned out. I couldn’t imagine what she might have been thinking. It was too embarrassing. I sat back down and put my hands over my face. Before I knew it the train had reached Clayton Place. Why was this so hard?

Three more stops to go.

There I was standing in the middle of the train again. I already knew what I was going to say. I had no reason to back out. I wasn’t that far from her either. It was strange; I’d gotten up and sat back down around four times and she didn’t even notice. Any other person would have caught on to that. I know I would have. Then it hit me! What if she knew I was doing all of that but just wasn’t saying anything about it? She was probably thinking “This guy is f*****g pathetic. How many times are you going to try and come over here? I’m not that hard to approach”. With that thought now stuck in my head I sat back down.

If she was thinking that then she would have been right. I was pathetic, and no chick wants to mess with a pathetic man. It’s not like on TV when the man makes a fool of himself and still gets the girl. That s**t doesn’t happen in real life. But again, what did I know? That was all based off of my presumption that she had noticed. Her eyes were focused on what was outside. She was still in the same position she was ten minutes before. What was I bugging about? Once I had calmed down I got ready again. The train stopped at Louis Street.

Two more stops to go.

I was back at it again. There I was in the middle of the train. I wasn’t too far from her. I sat down in a seat that was closer than where I had been. I was happy that I’d made it that far. I already knew what I was going to say. I had no reason to back out again and to my knowledge, she didn’t even know I was on the train. What was there to hold me back? Before I got up I thought about what is was going to be like. This would be the first time I’d talk to a chick I liked. Of course I’d be nervous but that was normal. My pops used to tell me “Once you start talking it’ll get easier”. Maybe that was true, but just getting over starting a conversation is stressful. Plus, I didn’t really factor in the possibility she didn’t want to talk or she had a boyfriend or girlfriend if she messed with chicks. If any of that was the case, then I wasn’t getting pass “So, what’s your name?”

I leaned my head back and sighed again. “A god damn math exam ain’t even this hard” I thought to myself. All I had to do was walk up to her and talk. Why was it so damn difficult? Scratch that, why was I making it so damn difficult? This was all me. If I wasn’t so damn scary then I could have been talking to her now. The train stopped Amber Street.

She gets off next stop.

At this point it wasn’t even worth trying anymore. I went back to where I was sitting and tried to see if I could get my phone back on. She was still looking out of the window, most likely oblivious to my existence. I ended up dropping my phone on the damn floor and the screen cracked. I bent over to pick it up and when I looked up I couldn’t believe it " there she was looking at me as I held my phone in my hand. She turned back to the window. It wasn’t like she was staring at me or anything like that. It was just a “What was that?” kind of look. Regardless, my heart started pounding once again. She knew I was there now so some of the pressure and stress went away.

Now I had to make a quick decision. I couldn’t start a conversation because she was going to get off in the next minute. I had to say something small like “hey” or “hi”. It wasn’t much but it was something. Plus, this was all about me talking to her anyway. Saying something as simple as “hi” constitutes as talking so I’d feel like accomplished something either way. I got up once again and started to walk over to her. By the time I got to the middle of the train it stopped at North Park. She got up and walked to the doors and they opened.

“This is North Park. The next stop will be Portland-New Roehn Bridge. Stand clear of the closing doors please” said the conductor.

I damn near sprinted to the door but I was too late. She was already off the train and heading down the stairs to North Park. I banged my fist against the door in anger. There she was again, passing me by. I sat down and sighed once more. I had blown it. I was just so stupid. I should have known from the beginning I wasn’t going to do it. If only I had a little bit more time. I was so close but…it is what it is. Of course it bothered me for the remainder of the day but I reminded myself there was always next week. So, I waited an entire week so I could try again.

She never got on the train.

I waited another week.

She never got on the train.

And another, but…

She never got on the train.

And I waited one more time hoping she did but…

She never got on the train.

I had wasted my last chance. I regret it till this day.

© 2014 Kymele J. Garvin

Author's Note

This is based on a song I wrote called Marie Fellows. I recently revised it but let me know if there's areas (as a writer) that I need to work on/tell me if you like it or not. Other than that, enjoy.