Untitled
Title: One Hot Mess
Word Count: 1158
It was a balancing act for the ages as Caitlin maneuvered down the tight aisle on the train - cell phone pinched between her ear and her shoulder, purse and laptop bag precariously hooked over the other shoulder, the handle of her roller suitcase looped in the same hand as her leaking water bottle, two leather portfolios nestled in the crook of an elbow, and her breakfast from the coffee shop in a pair of brown paper bags wobbling on her forearm with more skill than most servers could even dream of. The phone droned a series of long, irritated rings in her ear as she counted the rows to her seat before her best friend's voice exploded over the line.
"Caity!" Mona chirped. "Holy shit, woman, it's about time you called!"
"Sorry, it took forever to get out of the hotel this morning." Caitlin blew a lock of curly hair out of her face in annoyance as she found herself stuck behind a middle-aged couple with a pair of bickering children. "All the summer traffic. It's a wonder I even made my train."
"No worries, I was just... Is someone murdering children?" Mona asked, as the parents yanked the children apart and sent a renewed blast of irritated shrieking through the train car.
"I wish," Caitlin replied.
"So?"
"So, what?"
"How did it go with Ryan?"
"Oh God, Mona, do we need to talk about that right now?"
"If you didn't phone me to bitch, why did you phone me?"
"I don't know, moral support? I'm only about to move across the country."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Fine, fine." She tapped her foot impatiently until the aisle was clear. "He proposed."
"He what?!" Mona screeched, so loud that Caitlin nearly dropped her phone. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did he have his fingers in some whore's snatch when he did it?"
"No, he was... really nice about it, actually. Bought me roses and had this big talk about -"
"Oh my God, Caity, you didn't say yes, did you?"
Caitlin twisted around a large man in an obnoxious floral print shirt and finally made it to her seat.
"Of course I didn't say yes," Caitlin muttered. "I'm still moving, aren't I?" She looked down and found a laptop bag in her seat, likely belonging to the man who sat against the window, his eyes closed and his hands folded in his lap. Pursing her lips, she thought about waking him before she had a very "fuck it" attitude and just threw what she could down on top of his bag.
"I just had to check, you had a bit of a soft spot for the cock and all."
"Mona!"
"Well, you did!" Mona defended. "And you were hoping that he would propose and all..."
"That was before he decided to fuck my sister."
"Miss, language, please!" called the mother of the brats behind her. Caitlin ignored her, reaching up to open the overhead compartment and making a valiant effort to shove her heavy roller suitcase into it.
"Hold on a sec, I gotta put you down," she told Mona, and tossed the phone onto the pile of her possessions. With one last spectacular heave, the suitcase shot through the narrow opening of the compartment and she lost her balance, falling headlong into the footspace of her seat and losing her water bottle in a spectacular fumble onto her sleeping seat-buddy.
There was an uncomfortable second or two of silence in which she pressed her forehead to her clenched fists, cursing her life and everything in it, before she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" the man asked from above her as Caitlin shoved herself off the floor. She finally got a good look at him - his cropped honey-colored hair, warm brown eyes, and the huge water stain across the front of his navy button-up.
"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He looked equal parts amused and exasperated, glancing between her mortified face and the front of his shirt.
"Well," he said finally, shrugging, "at least it wasn't coffee." He reached over and fished his laptop bag out from beneath her pile of things and tucked it between his feet. "You could have just asked, though."
"Could have... oh God, no, it wasn't that, I was just talking and doing too much at once and..." She clapped her hands against her legs. "I don't even know. Oh God, I'm so sorry, if you want me to find another seat or, I don't know, throw myself under the train or -"
"I don't think you need to go that far," he interrupted, amused.
"Are you sure? Because I could really just -"
"If you sit somewhere else, people will think I did this to myself." He gave her a smile that made her knees go weak. "Wouldn't want that, right?" He gestured to the seat. "Please."
"I... thank you," she murmured. Red-faced and wishing she could just die, she gathered her things and dropped onto the plush seat beside him.
"How's your friend?" he asked suddenly.
"My... what?"
"Your friend. On the phone."
It took her a moment to realize that she'd never actually ended her call with Mona - before the phone even made it to her ear, she could hear the woman squealing with laughter.
"Hi," Caitlin said meekly, her cheeks burning with renewed embarrassment.
"Oh my God, you retard, what did you do?" Mona managed between her hiccuping, gasping guffaws.
"I kind of threw my water on the guy next to me."
"You did not! On purpose?"
"Nope."
"Holy shitballs, girl, you are just one hot mess. And I say that with love." Mona managed to calm her laughing to giggles. "I bet he's gorgeous too, isn't he?" she asked.
"Unfortunately." From the corner of her eye, Caitlin saw him glance over at her with a wry smirk. "Mo, can I call you back?" she asked, and hung up before her friend could manage a yes.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, broken only by a mechanical voice announcing over the speakers that they were five minutes from departure. Caitlin, who had been staring at the phone in her hands, considered changing seats for a second time so as to avoid eleven hours of awkwardness, but as she looked around she realized that the train had quickly filled.
"You really don't have to," her companion said. "I don't bite." When her lips twitched in a brief smile, he chuckled. "Unless," he added, "you're going to make me do it in self-defense."
"That would probably improve on the first impression," she said morosely.
"How about a mulligan, then?" He lifted a soaked arm and offered his hand to her. "Dustin," he said, and when she met his eyes he gave her another brilliant smile.
"Caitlin," she replied.
Word Count: 1158
It was a balancing act for the ages as Caitlin maneuvered down the tight aisle on the train - cell phone pinched between her ear and her shoulder, purse and laptop bag precariously hooked over the other shoulder, the handle of her roller suitcase looped in the same hand as her leaking water bottle, two leather portfolios nestled in the crook of an elbow, and her breakfast from the coffee shop in a pair of brown paper bags wobbling on her forearm with more skill than most servers could even dream of. The phone droned a series of long, irritated rings in her ear as she counted the rows to her seat before her best friend's voice exploded over the line.
"Caity!" Mona chirped. "Holy shit, woman, it's about time you called!"
"Sorry, it took forever to get out of the hotel this morning." Caitlin blew a lock of curly hair out of her face in annoyance as she found herself stuck behind a middle-aged couple with a pair of bickering children. "All the summer traffic. It's a wonder I even made my train."
"No worries, I was just... Is someone murdering children?" Mona asked, as the parents yanked the children apart and sent a renewed blast of irritated shrieking through the train car.
"I wish," Caitlin replied.
"So?"
"So, what?"
"How did it go with Ryan?"
"Oh God, Mona, do we need to talk about that right now?"
"If you didn't phone me to bitch, why did you phone me?"
"I don't know, moral support? I'm only about to move across the country."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Fine, fine." She tapped her foot impatiently until the aisle was clear. "He proposed."
"He what?!" Mona screeched, so loud that Caitlin nearly dropped her phone. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did he have his fingers in some whore's snatch when he did it?"
"No, he was... really nice about it, actually. Bought me roses and had this big talk about -"
"Oh my God, Caity, you didn't say yes, did you?"
Caitlin twisted around a large man in an obnoxious floral print shirt and finally made it to her seat.
"Of course I didn't say yes," Caitlin muttered. "I'm still moving, aren't I?" She looked down and found a laptop bag in her seat, likely belonging to the man who sat against the window, his eyes closed and his hands folded in his lap. Pursing her lips, she thought about waking him before she had a very "fuck it" attitude and just threw what she could down on top of his bag.
"I just had to check, you had a bit of a soft spot for the cock and all."
"Mona!"
"Well, you did!" Mona defended. "And you were hoping that he would propose and all..."
"That was before he decided to fuck my sister."
"Miss, language, please!" called the mother of the brats behind her. Caitlin ignored her, reaching up to open the overhead compartment and making a valiant effort to shove her heavy roller suitcase into it.
"Hold on a sec, I gotta put you down," she told Mona, and tossed the phone onto the pile of her possessions. With one last spectacular heave, the suitcase shot through the narrow opening of the compartment and she lost her balance, falling headlong into the footspace of her seat and losing her water bottle in a spectacular fumble onto her sleeping seat-buddy.
There was an uncomfortable second or two of silence in which she pressed her forehead to her clenched fists, cursing her life and everything in it, before she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" the man asked from above her as Caitlin shoved herself off the floor. She finally got a good look at him - his cropped honey-colored hair, warm brown eyes, and the huge water stain across the front of his navy button-up.
"Oh, shit!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He looked equal parts amused and exasperated, glancing between her mortified face and the front of his shirt.
"Well," he said finally, shrugging, "at least it wasn't coffee." He reached over and fished his laptop bag out from beneath her pile of things and tucked it between his feet. "You could have just asked, though."
"Could have... oh God, no, it wasn't that, I was just talking and doing too much at once and..." She clapped her hands against her legs. "I don't even know. Oh God, I'm so sorry, if you want me to find another seat or, I don't know, throw myself under the train or -"
"I don't think you need to go that far," he interrupted, amused.
"Are you sure? Because I could really just -"
"If you sit somewhere else, people will think I did this to myself." He gave her a smile that made her knees go weak. "Wouldn't want that, right?" He gestured to the seat. "Please."
"I... thank you," she murmured. Red-faced and wishing she could just die, she gathered her things and dropped onto the plush seat beside him.
"How's your friend?" he asked suddenly.
"My... what?"
"Your friend. On the phone."
It took her a moment to realize that she'd never actually ended her call with Mona - before the phone even made it to her ear, she could hear the woman squealing with laughter.
"Hi," Caitlin said meekly, her cheeks burning with renewed embarrassment.
"Oh my God, you retard, what did you do?" Mona managed between her hiccuping, gasping guffaws.
"I kind of threw my water on the guy next to me."
"You did not! On purpose?"
"Nope."
"Holy shitballs, girl, you are just one hot mess. And I say that with love." Mona managed to calm her laughing to giggles. "I bet he's gorgeous too, isn't he?" she asked.
"Unfortunately." From the corner of her eye, Caitlin saw him glance over at her with a wry smirk. "Mo, can I call you back?" she asked, and hung up before her friend could manage a yes.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, broken only by a mechanical voice announcing over the speakers that they were five minutes from departure. Caitlin, who had been staring at the phone in her hands, considered changing seats for a second time so as to avoid eleven hours of awkwardness, but as she looked around she realized that the train had quickly filled.
"You really don't have to," her companion said. "I don't bite." When her lips twitched in a brief smile, he chuckled. "Unless," he added, "you're going to make me do it in self-defense."
"That would probably improve on the first impression," she said morosely.
"How about a mulligan, then?" He lifted a soaked arm and offered his hand to her. "Dustin," he said, and when she met his eyes he gave her another brilliant smile.
"Caitlin," she replied.