Girl

The London Tube feels like an unsettling thriller.

As I stand by the platform edge, my headphones blasting indecipherable lyrics through my ears, I worry that someone might push me over the edge amidst the chaos. The thought makes my body shudder stiffly, and I wince. After looking up at the digital board, there were still five minutes for the tube to come bolting down the tracks as a swarm of people hog the automatic doors to be the first ones inside. Five minutes is an eternity for the London Tube; it's like the tube is as slow as I am after a workday. My forehead is slick with sweat and my eyelids are rolling down like blinds, but I keep reading five minutes over and over again on the board. 

Four minutes. I drop my purse with a thud and hope with all my heart that the laptop is shattered to pieces and all the hours of laborious work that seeped into my veins with hatred is gone. I hunch over, my back aching like I'm eighty, only to find the laptop perfectly intact. 

“Ergh.” I inch my body up, wondering when, along the way, things turned awry, and I seemed to have aged nearly fifty years before my thirtieth birthday. My lower lip trembles and I urge myself to hold back the waterfalls at the brink of pouring from my eyes. When I turn my head to look at the digital board yet again, my unruly chocolate hair unravels from the messy topknot, and a couple to the side interlaces their hands before a tender kiss. I whip my head back to the front and tighten my fists, hoping the cuts from my nails into my palms can soothe my aching heart. All the while, the music through my headphones muffles the noise around me. I'm tapping my foot to the song's beat when a hand grasps my shoulder. 

“Ahh!” I yelp but turn around to find a huge smile plastered on the most golden boy that could ever exist. “Sorry,” I say, pulling my headphones down and tucking my straw-like hair behind my ears. 

“I’m so sorry I gave you a fright.” The beautiful boy’s voice is deep and resonant. Silky strands of hair fall into his large eyes and I find it difficult to stop my finger from tracing the beautiful curve of his rugged nose bridge. His blue geometric hoodie and baggy jeans waft the sweet scent of vanilla. “I’m Daniel, by the way.” His cherry lips are glossy from saliva. 

“I’m Callie Parker,” I add my last name but shrivel back at the formality of it all. His smile is encaptivating. When I turn to see the couple holding hands, I can't help but allow my lips to curl up a smidge.

Soon, my jaw drops open in shock. Something is slobbering all over my knee, jumping up to claw a small hole at the hem of my midi skirt. It was a dog with the same dry hair as mine, but instead of chocolate brown, it was starkly white. 

“Ahh, I’m sorry about that Callie,” Daniel apologizes profusely. “You see, I tapped your shoulder because you seem lovely. I’m struggling to hold all of these bags,” he pointed to the ground, “and my dog.” He fumbles around as his dog squirms, oblivious the London Tube is a nasty and dangerous place. “Could you help me when we get on the tube?” He asks. 

Two minutes.

“Yes, of course,” I say.

I reach for one of the smaller duffle bags, but Daniel shoves the leash in my hand instead. “Thank you for holding her. She’s a stray, been with me for a year now.”

I can’t help but find myself salivating a little as Daniel smiles with his glossy lips. 

This Valentine’s Day might just be a little bit different. I smile almost mischievously as Daniel is clumsy with the duffle bags on the floor. 

“What’s her name? She’s really cute,” I ask Daniel as I look into the black button eyes of the dog sitting and wagging her tail by my side. 

“Huh,” Daniel says as he just about manages to haul the bags around his lean shoulders and body.

As Daniel straightens up fully, I crane my neck to look at his sculpted jaw. 

“Ummm.” I lose track of my thoughts as the scraggly dog by my side jumps up again and I try to make her sit. 

“Oh, finally!” Daniel exclaims as the train comes hurtling through the tracks. 

I couldn’t help but wonder, what if the wheels went awry, and the train burst off the track, crushing all of us on the platform? As usual, nothing like that happens in real life and as that morbid thought fades away from my mind, a swarm of people stand eagerly an inch away from the doors. 

As the doors open with their distinct abruptness, everyone enters, all varying levels of smelly—from subtle sweat to rotten eggs— after an arduous workday. Once they all disperse inside the train, Daniel and I enter with his dog sniffing my left Converse shoe. 

“We made it inside.” I smile to look up at Daniel, whose face turns to stone as if he forgot something on the platform or had another agenda in mind. 

Soon, the train doors ring, and it all happens in slow motion. Daniel inches back, swiftly stepping out just before the door closes. I barely gasp when the train rolls away into the tunnel’s enveloping darkness. 

I’m left confused and all alone with her—the stray dog with button eyes. I jerk my head around, hoping to find Daniel never actually left the train and it was all a trick of my tired eyes. But Daniel isn’t anywhere to be seen and as it is with the London Tube, everyone is too absorbed in the monstrosities of life to notice what happened. 

I glance at Daniel’s dog and wonder if everyone just sees a girl walking her lookalike pet through the city's chaos. That is the story everyone assumes, but not the one I would tell. I lean onto the metal pole and the dog lies by my feet, whining at the rumbling sounds of the train. 

***

The train reaches the next stop and as an elderly lady wobbles out of a seat towards the doors, I quickly sit down as exhaustion settles on my feet. 

“Cute dog.” A lady with a vibrant red pixie cut sits by my side. 

I hesitate before the lady who dared to speak to a stranger on the London Tube. “Thank you,” I mutter.

She isn’t my dog! I think and panic consumes me. I look around at the lifeless faces on the tube, lost in thought, drowning in the music ringing through their headphones. I then look down to find Daniel’s dog resting her dainty nose on my knees. She now appears to be mine, staring into my eyes with a calmness I haven’t seen in a while. 

***

The train continues to move through the stops and I soon see Finsbury Park written on the walls; I jerk myself up and pull the dog with me out of the train just as the doors slide shut. 

“Hey,” I call at the dog as she cranes her head in the other direction. “Hey!” I yell, not sure of what her name is. “Girl!” I plead, hoping she starts moving with me. Her ears perk up when I holler girl, and she comes to sit by my feet. “Girl?” I question. She looks up with those adorable eyes. I guess I’ll call you Girl. 

The stairs towards the exit are filled with a swarm of people heading home from work. I could hear Girl whining near my feet.

I bend down to pat her head and she straightens up with confidence. As I maneuver my way from a crouched position, something hard hits me in the face and then a large misshapen object shoves my shoulder.

I look around at everyone, a swarm of people with backpacks. I curse under my breath and stare into Girl’s eyes as she seems to understand how I feel. People with backpacks and absolutely zero sense of awareness. I shake my head with utter annoyance.

Anyone with a backpack seems to forget their body extends out from behind. Every time I’m in a jam of people, their backpacks take up more space than they do, shoving me around to the point where I feel like ripping off their bags like a vampire might rip out someone's heart. I stifle a scream by clenching my jaw tight. 

After what feels like an eternity, I cross through the gates with my Oyster card towards freedom and a little quiet. 

“We made it, Girl,” I say. 

She wags her tail, understanding my victory completely. 

***

The walk towards my small apartment is long and dwindling from the station. It’s filled with many dodgy people and stores alike, and many twists and turns.

I lift Girl into my arms as she tries to hide between my legs. Her body relaxes against mine while I find comfort in her warmth. 

The streets become dim close to my apartment. With a narrow staircase and far too many bolts, the apartment is old and rusty, but the piano by the dining table gives me company at night. Once. I'm inside, away from the cold air, I place Girl on the carpeted floor and she immediately finds her way to the sofa like this has been her home all this time. The plush grey cushion of the sofa invites Girl in the most hospitable way. She sinks into it and closes her eyes gently.

“Hey, you tired?” I say, throwing my shoes off my feet and scurrying over to the sofa where Girl is sound asleep. I drop to the floor, resting my head on the sofa next to Girl’s gentle face. She breathes softly onto my cheek, warming my frozen lips from the winter night air in London. 

“Hey!” I laugh as I see Girl part one of her eyes open, looking directly at me. “Do you want water? Or food?” Her ears perk up. “I’ll get you both.” I stand up from the floor to grab two wooden bowls from the kitchen, pouring water into one and in the other, I mash up a cold-boiled egg I kept in the fridge for tonight’s dinner. 

Girl comes running and wipes the water bowl clean, leaving a wet mess on the carpeted floor. After she gobbles up the mashed egg, I look at her teeth, which are covered in bits of dry egg yolk.

“Ergh, Girl, your teeth!” I bend down to take a look. “Ahh, don’t lick my face, your breath stinks!” I laugh as she slobbers all over me. She manages to knock me down in a friendly wrestle. I admit defeat to Girl, giggling and shielding my face with my hands. 

As my laughter finally escapes the place it was buried inside, Girl continues to wag her tail with great animation as if my joy were hers, and easing my pain was her greatest mission.