Samira Vachani

A TRAIN RIDE WITH A BOY FROM NEW YORK

We sit on the train

Silence within us

Five altogether

Across from each other

Avert our eyes, pretend to smile

We’ve known each other so well

act as if uneasiness is a choice

Though we know that’s a lie

Standing on the platform

Laughing, joking

We were the friends

We’ve always been

Now we’re tense and clumsy

Don’t know how to act

Like strangers meeting

For the first time

It’s all his fault

That boy from New York

He sits next to me

Tall, rich, and cocky

We got him at South Station

Earlier in the day

We never see each other

Yet wait the forty minutes

Till he saunters in late

A guest from New York

We act polite

Wait for our stop

With no conversation

To wile away time

So busy at school

No time for each other

Too busy to remember

That we’ve forgotten each other

I smile and nod

At his endless chatter

Why do I hate him

He’s good looking enough

Nice and polite

Can someone so simple

makes us forget

The feeling of being together

that we can’t seem to get

Whose fault is it

we don’t want to answer

It could be ourselves

It’s easier to blame him

“Prudential Center”

the intercom sputters

We file out the train

sigh with relief

He makes a joke

I laugh with ease

Suddenly we’re all laughing

Maybe I don’t mind him

A stranger inside

looks out the window

Follows our path

away from the train

Confused for a moment

Says to herself

“I thought they were strangers”

Maybe she’s right.