She lifts her coffee cup to her red painted lips, and it’s then I notice the diamond band on her ring finger.
“Wow, your husband is a lucky guy. Do you talk to him like that?”
She slams the coffee cup down on the table. “I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Nope,” she bites back and then mumbles something incoherent under her breath. I don’t ask what she said. I’ve had enough of this girl's drama already.
We sit in silence for a moment, but I can’t help poking the bear. “Wow, I’m shocked. A delightful young woman like you with impeccable manners and a sunshine personality hasn’t been snatched up? I find that hard to believe.”
I know I am being a dick, but I can’t help it.
“You’re an ass,” she whispers.
“And you’re a brat.”
“And you’re a grumpy old man. It’s Christmas. Where’s your spirit?” she asks.
“Like I said, we’re all having a bad day.”
“Well, it can't be as bad as mine.” She says it with such confidence, almost drawing a victory line in the sand. Unfortunately for her, I need to release my frustrations. If she wants to enter a competition, I’ll give her one.
“So, enlighten me. Why has your day been so crap that it gives you the right to be a brat?”
She whips her head around, and there's a fire in her eyes. I retreat a little, realizing my error. She’s ready to explode.
“Oh, where do I begin?” She holds up her hand and begins counting on her perfectly manicured fingers. “I was late for my hair appointment; I didn’t get the internship I applied for. The barista messed up my order. The esthetician used the wrong wax for my bikini wax and couldn’t get it off, and I am pretty sure I have lost two layers of skin down there.”
I press my lips together to suppress my laughter. She is having a shit day.
“Some jackass stole my cab and ruined my vintage purse.” She eyes me up and down, and I give her a not-so-subtle eye roll. “And then, to top off my day, I come home and my boyfriend tells me he has been offered a job in LA, and he thinks we should take a break so he can go alone. Can you believe it?” Her chest heaves as he takes in a deep breath. I suddenly empathize with this girl. I know how it feels to be dumped at Christmas, but it still doesn’t mean she can be bitchy to everyone.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t need to know any of that,” she says, smoothing down her hair.
She lifts her takeout cup again, taking a sip and then placing it back down. It's then I notice the name on the cup. “Kevin?” I say with a confused tone. “So not only do you steal seats, you steal people’s coffee?”
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny,” she says sarcastically. “No, this is my coffee.”
“Your name's Kevin?” I furrow my brows.
“No, the barista misheard me and wrote Kevin. Honestly, they have one job—make your order—how difficult is it?” She throws up her arms animatedly.
“So, what is your name? I ask, trying to fathom how the barista could fuck up so badly.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She gives me the side eye.
“Not really,” I say flatly.
“What an ass,” she mutters so quietly I almost miss it.
“What was that, Kevin?” I tease.
“Oh, suck a crusty dick.”
“Do you always walk around with this energy, or has the snowstorm made you extra bitchy?”
Her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen. “No, actually, being forced to sit next to miserable assholes just brings out the worstin me.” She glances over at my hands, and smirks. “No ring? Shocking, since you’re such a gentleman.” Her words sting in a way I wasn’t expecting because there would have been a ring. Had Casey not cheated. This Christmas was meant to be filled with plans for our future. Instead, I am on a train alone, and instead of directing my anger to the person who deserves it, I am taking it all out on the stranger next to me.
