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Train Girl

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Jordan cannot take his eyes of the woman in a kicky hot pink striped skort and Adventure Time hoodie hanging upside down from the bar above her subway seat doing crunches. He’s sitting directly across from her watching in amazement as her hoodie slides down around her armpits revealing an eight pack so fucking cut that she looks like an extra for Wonder Woman.

“Jesus Christ Jordan, look away before she kills you for being a creeper.” Matty, whose elbows have the same stabby properties as abandoned Legos, jabs him in the ribs. “Avert your eyes, man.”

“She’s not gonna kill me, she’s wearing Adventure Time, clearly she has a sense of humor.” Jordan whispers back, pointedly not averting his eyes.

“Anyone doing exercise on the train is either full on bonkers or about to fight The Immortal Iron Fist.” Matty jabs him in the ribs again and Jordan takes an easily dodged, half hearted swipe at him. “Either way, not a person you should get involved with.”

“I am not involved.” Not that he wouldn’t like to be involved because man, with the body and the blond hair, Train Girl looks like what would happen if Kara Zor-El went to CUNY. “I am passively sitting in my seat, waiting for my stop in the most non aggressive way possible.”

Matty sighs like a mother whose kid just stuck a fourth lima bean up their nose. “I know you’re from Milwaukee but you’ve been here for two years, you’ve gotta know by now that eye contact counts as aggression in the City.”

“Only douchebags call it ‘the City’. Don’t go full hipster on me.”

“I am not a hipster,” Matty’s eyes are murderous from under his slouchy beanie and Jordan smirks. “You fly-over state fuckface.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck my face, babe? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Jordan fists his hands in Matty’s flannel and bats his eyes, making kissy noises while Matty swears and tries to swat him away.

Train Girl laughs so hard she falls off her bar.