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Clary almost didn’t notice the girl standing beside her on the train platform. She was running late to a dinner with her mom and Luke and had just missed the earlier train. She stood by the trash can in the center, clutching her phone in one hand and her bags in the other, and was glancing up at the clock when she heard a voice behind her.
“I think you dropped your card.”
Clary turned around. The girl was holding up a battered metrocard, and Clary felt through her pockets in search of her own.
“Oh my gosh yeah I must’ve dropped it, thanks!” Clary sighed, mentally berating herself for continuing to mess up today.
“No problem,” the girl grinned in reply, and after returning the card to her wallet Clary finally took a moment to really look at her. She stood about her height in heels, had perfectly applied eyeliner, and looked more put-together than Clary could imagine.
“Big day?” the girl asked, running a strand of dark hair through her fingers and nodding towards the shopping bags.
Clary blushed. Why was this gorgeous stranger talking to her? She didn’t have time for this, not now.
“Um, yeah my mom and dad’s anniversary is tonight, and I had to pick up some stuff last minute,” she chuckled cautiously. “And had to meet up with a friend before that but then he was late too —” Clary trailed off, wishing the train would come already so she could stop embarrassing herself.
The girl’s smile only brightened, if that were possible. “I’m Isabelle,” she said, extending her hand.
“Clary.” She could feel her face growing warmer, and didn’t know if she should say something more.
In a sudden movement, the girl dug a pen and an old receipt out of her purse, and scribbled something on it while Clary shuffled her feet. She wished she was as smooth with girls as she was with guys — if that was what was happening.
Isabelle handed over the paper, with her name, number, and “subway girl!” written in neat print. “You totally don’t need to, but you’re really cute and it’d be great if you wanted to text me sometime.”
Clary laughed, folding the paper and tucking it into her backpack where it wouldn’t fall out. She heard the train begin pulling into the station and gathered up her bags again. “Uh, yeah, I’ll do that,” she smiled and began walking. “Are you taking this one?”
“No I’m going in the other direction, actually.” Isabelle pointed across the platform as Clary paused, confused. She had to get on before she missed this one, too, but —
“Text me!” Isabelle called, waving her hands for Clary to enter the train.
Whatever, Clary decided, and smiled one last time at the girl on the platform. “Okay!” The doors closed, and Clary sank into an empty seat gratefully. She’d be at Luke’s in maybe forty-five minutes, plenty of time to mull over long hair and warm eyes.