She, giggling, I thought, over a boxcar made from the remnants of Tim Horton’s Timbits combo, he knocks on the thick plastic window after he, begrudgingly, exits at his station. His eyes are wide and deer-eyed… filled up with excitement of a first kiss just plucked from her cautious lips. She doesn’t look up. He slinks as he turns away and the train pulls away and she giggles more. She is completely unaware of the melancholy she just delivered.
The furious fluster of her thumb tips tell me she is texting a friend. Likely regaling details of a date she’d thought had ended, but which he was still clinging to the end of. In my day this would have resulted in an all night ICQ session between the two.
What do the teens in love do now?