She takes him to ride the bus.
Wedged between the folds of high school students, and mid-day labourers, Jeff and Annie find laughter and soft giggles. He feels out of place with his expensive blazer and leather boots. His attire is more suited to rest against Italian leather seats, rather than the neon blue plastic of public transportation. But this is exactly it. His whole life was built for show, speed, and luxury. The nought to sixty of his Lexus, the crispness of his tailored suit, the aerodynamics of his Nike runners – all made for manoeuvring through life in the fast lane. But Annie… Annie makes him ride the bus to school, forcing him to learn pace, relaxation and patience. On the bus, nothing is according his schedule; the driver has no consideration of his so called 'Four Year Plan', or any plan other than the bus route. Sitting in those hard, god awful plastic seats forces Jeff to breathe and wait and realize there is life that bustles around him outside of his decorated condo, and luxury sedan. On the bus he can look out the window and associate new images that accompany him on the journey to school that would have been normally a murky blur as he whipped past them in his car. On the bus, for instance, he takes note of a quiet café near the city library that looks perfect to situate his next date with Annie. He is already picturing the two of them getting up an hour earlier before school to grab a latte and sit at that small window table near the door, savouring the milk tapered espresso. She would most likely be reviewing her index cards, and he would more than likely watch her, feeding her bits of her favourite carrot muffin in between sips. On the bus, he can smile and look at her full on for as long as he likes rather than sharing her with the road when he drives.
With Annie he feels no hurry. He can sit on the bus bench and wait serenely for the flowers to bloom, and the sun to rise as long as she's sitting there beside him. The bus could come early or late and it wouldn't matter because their relationship relied on no one else and affected no one else. His life before her was made up of calculations of time and distance between the bar and his apartment before he can get into the waitresses' pants. Then Miss Edison came along throwing him off his gait with every encounter in the hallway, sidewalk and library. Always breaking his stride, and causing him to veer off course with those pools of sky she calls eyes. Every time they gaze pleadingly into his, he feels his whole body unwind and expand. His lungs contract more slowly, appreciating the intake of her flowery scent. His brain relaxes and the activities of the world around him, his plans for the immediate future just stops. Because the more she captures his attention, the more his whole self become more alive and alert. Every time she holds him in her eyes, his body remembers to breathe.