F train. We both got off at Broadway/Lafayette - w4m - 20 (Downtown)

You were sitting across from me on the F train uptown at around 3 o'clock on Friday. I was wearing a blue dress. You had a plaid shirt. You were reading The Fall. I saw you on the staircase when we got off the subway. I smiled at you.

coffee?

caroline is an intern and she told all of her friends that this is going to be "the best summer ever". she's not just any intern though, she's a fashion intern! caroline landed a gig as a pr intern for tory burch. in truth, she would've preferred to work at one of the golden child labels, alexander wang, rodarte, yigal azrouel or even alexis bittar. but her father's connections could only stretch so far--no marc jacobs or lacroix for her but she's happy enough. after a long day of steaming garments and checking samples in and out of the unforgiving pr closet, she was happy to skip out a little early. summer fridays are a godsend she thinks to herself as she tucks her blackberry pearl into her black quilted chanel bag. she's looking around the train and decides at that moment that she will live in new york when she graduates in 2010. she confidently looks at her reflection in the mirror, mentally complimenting her contrived ensemble of a blue dress, boots and cropped blazer. legs crossed and tapping along to the beat of katy perry she peruses the passengers on the subway, passing silent judgement.

to the boy in the AA tri blend tank: hipster, tired look, over it
to the better dressed girl: who do you think you are? i intern for tory burch (she is an associate editor at conde nast, tread lightly, intern)
to the older man staring at her: perv, you have issues
to the two guys coming from work, talking about work: leave work at the office and take me to a nice dinner
to the mother with the crying baby: why didn't you take a cab? this baby is annoying me
to the man with the bike: you have a bike, why are you taking the subway, lame.

passing judgement has always come naturally to caroline. she's conventionally pretty and with a fashion internship to bolster her ego, it appears there is no stopping her. secretly she dreams of becoming an editrix but with any luck, forces already in place will save us all from her rise to editorial power. caroline blissfully bobs to the beat of kelly clarkson's femme nazi anthem, "i do not hook up" and remembers james, a boy who toyed with her emotions back at her southern conservative university. no matter how hard she tells herself she "does not hook up" she's not fooling herself or anybody else. sadly, caroline will never be one of those girls that owns her own actions.

trent is waiting for the f train that is carrying our fair caroline. he's reading the fall and getting lost in an existential world of confessions, guilt and amsterdam. conventionally handsome, trent used to be into the whole super prep lacrosse deal until he suddenly realized how stupid his surroundings had become. he transferred from george mason to nyu and is taking some summer classes to chalk up the credits that didn't go through. luckily for our caroline, his lacrosse magnetism remains and the moment the doors open, she senses him. girls like caroline could find lacrosse players during pride week in the village if necessary. trent doesn't notice caroline at first, he's used to attention from girls and to be honest is quite sick of it, particularly from girls like caroline. his taste is currently running more towards a brooklyn dwelling, non-hipster, intellectually inclined, strong willed towering beauty (because those are everywhere). caroline is trying her usual tricks, artfully alternating her leg crosses, shuffling her position, brief glances, and even smiling in his direction. trent can feel her gaze and is really put off by it, thinking, "jesus christ bitch, do i look like i'm interested in hooking up with the huge bag of issues you're carrying with you?" from his lacrosse player hook up past, he can spot baggage a mile away. avoiding eye contact still, trent exits as caroline follows behind. with a spirited pace, caroline passes trent on the stairs, looks back through her blonde locks and smiles. a spitting image of his past hook ups and girlfriends, trent averts his eyes.

caroline sings to herself, "i do not hook up" as she bounces up the stairs, wishing she could hook up with trent.