“My name’s Lilia.”

Shit.

Robert was very unpleasantly surprised when the girl at the bus stop tried to catch his eye. When he first sensed her glances he squinted and dramatically massaged his temples (what his best friend from back east would refer to as the ol’ “oh-god-I-have-a-splitting-headache” routine). The second time she looked he let his eyes glaze over (the “shit-I’m-tired-from studying-last-night” routine). But third time she threw him a curve ball: talking. (He cursed the pressure headache in the back of his skull and his recent bout of insomnia that made him forget his headphones and sunglasses which would have solved this situation long ago.) So when she spoke again he panicked, looked away and thusly created the brand new hot off the presses “wow-I’m-so-into-looking-at-that-small-bush-that-I-cannot-possibly-carry-on-a-conversation” . . . routine. He then realized that sleep deprivation and pain often inhibited creativity. He also realized that he was not clever.

He nodded kept his gaze on the small bush.

“What’s you’re name?”

“Hmm?” He continued to stare at the small bush.

“What’s you’re name?”

He amplified his stare.

“I said-“

His stare magnified ten-fold; not only was he looking at the bush, he was the bush. Nothing could break this gaze, the iron clad, so concentrated, so epic so -

“You’re not trying to set that thing on fire are you?”

Robert jumped.

They stared at each other, and Robert realized for the first time she was wearing sunglasses. He felt ashamed. He needn’t have tried so hard to avoid eye contact.

“Well?” she said, smiling coyly. Something seemed to hide in her voice and behind the lenses that covered her face, something that made Robert uncomfortable. She placed her fingers in the top of her glasses. They were magenta and he wondered (considering how vigorously he had attempted to avoid eye-contact) how he hadn’t noticed them before.

He pulled his attention away from the too-loud sunglasses and picked one of his several throw way respnoses that were most likely to inhibit communication:

“Maybe.”

Robert immediately regretted his answer.

The girl tossed her head back and erupted such a sound that the regulars discussing politics at the opposing stop, turned to look. Her peals of laughter shook the air and painted it an abrasive yellow. Her ribcage shook and her hands pressing against her convulsing sides seemed the only thing preventing her from splitting open.

Robert stared at her, petrified. He’d guessed strange yes, but he hadn’t anticipated insanity.

With the leftovers of laughter still catching in her throat, she turned to him.

“ ‘Maybe!’ ‘Maybe!’ Oh, GOD! Sorry, oh! Oh all right, all right! You win! V for victory! Case in point. Woo! Sheesh. Okay. Ha. Wow. Alright. I’ve got a book to read. Don’t hurt yourself or anything.” And with these words, she began to dig through an oversized turquoise bag on her shoulder.

Robert relaxed. He needn’t worry about hertalking to him again, after that crazy outburst it was clear she was crazy as fu -

“Win what?” The words he realized, to his horror, had spilled out of his own mouth.

She looked up puzzled, clasping a red and gold paperback and slightly arched her left eyebrow slightly.

“Excuse me?” He wished he could take them back.

“You, said ‘I win’, right?" I ‘win’ what?” He couldn’t stop himself.

“Your “not talking” contest,” she replied simply as she as she placed the book on her lap.

“What?”

“Well you’ve obviously been trying to avoid eye-contact with me, so I’m assuming you didn’t want a conversation.”

“Ah.”

She opened the book.

“So why did you continue talking to me?”

“I don’t know,” she said flipping the pages absently. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Yes, but, but why?”

She paused in her page turning, but didn’t shift her gaze from the pages.

“This is really bugging you isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the first person to talk to me in a month and a half.”

She looked up suddenly and, at the moment, Robert knew he had said too much.

“What?”

“Nothing”

He kept silent.

“No seriously what did you just say?”

He studied his hands.

“Okay so, I heard what you just said but . . . I mean you couldn’t possibly . . .”

Robert could see the bus now. It was red instead of the usual blue. He figured this probably had something to do with city cutbacks, but he didn’t know how.

“No, one should have to go through that. I - I mean I a while ago I had, I, I can call you . . . look, ImeanI, I . . . What’s . . .what’s your number?” She began rummaging in her purse. The dirt behind her to swirled at the approach of the bus.

Shel abandoned her search and swore. “ Shit! I- I can’t find my cell phone . . .I can give you-”

The bus drew closer; and the girl began to say something Robert didn’t hear.

“-eight-four-oh-six. . . ” Lilia let her voice trail off.

She looked at the boy staring into nothing. She had just hoped for some conversation, okay maybe a date. He was really cute. She hadn’t expected-

Suddenly she tore off her sunglasses and yellow-white light flooded her vision. She saw his soft and dull eyes and features, like a sidewalk walked too many times. He was still cute, but she hadn’t caught the details: the bags under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks, the unwashed hair and his lackluster gaze. She wished she hadn’t said hello. She blamed her weakness for grey eyes.

He stood up and she saw he wore a sweater despite the heat.

The bus drove slightly past her and opened its doors.

She looked at him again. Wondering if the color of his eyes ever changed.

Passengers began to exit. A girl with a penguin hat giggled to her friends while frat boys glared at her. A grandmother descended slowly down the charcoal steps.

The red bus made the sidewalk seem duller and pink.

The boy, walked though the doors, flashed his bus pass and grabbed hold of a rail.

The driver looked at her. “You gettin’ on miss?”

He asked expectantly, but not unkindly.

She forced up the corners of her mouth and shook her head.

“Alright,” he said. He closed the door and began to pull way.

Lilia knew she would be late, but she needed the walk. She realized she was still holding her sunglasses. She felt her fists tighten and she heard the snap. Tomorrow she would go back to her old stop.