Subways and Sprints

Every morning is the same old boring routine; I get up way before the crack of dawn, I take a shower, I put on some clothes, I get on the subway, and then I go to work. But I'm not the only one who has to endure this perpetual cycle. Every person on the A train suffers the same fortune as me. I have no idea where any of them work, or know anything about them, for that matter, but I guess you could say we're bound by the sacred bond of morning A-trainers.

We all have our specific spots. My seat is at the back end of the car, on the left side, right at the end of the row so I only have to be next to one person. The same people sit in the same seats or stand in the same spot every day. I kind of like it. I mean, I definitely prefer that situation over the one I face when coming home- an overcrowded car filled with strange people and countless tourists. But I like the routineness of it, just like I like everything in my life to be in a certain order.

Because we all have our spots, it's very tedious when someone new tries to ride in our car. Usually they hurry off when everyone in the car glares at them, but sometimes an oblivious early-rising tourist will widdle their way into the car and force some annoyed businessmen to make room for them.

I started riding this train to work every morning about a year ago. I seemed to have taken the last spot, for after I came, not a single new person was welcomed in. Not one person left, and not one person came. Until about three months ago. It was a chilly September day. I already had me earbuds in, trying not to fall asleep as the train rattled on. I never payed attention at the stops- I didn't need to; everyone got off at the same one- so I can't recall which one it was, but the car doors opened, and a tall blonde guy wearing a nice suit stepped in. The woman next to me huffed and crossed her arms. The blonde looked and noticed everyone was staring at him. He gave a sheepish grin and moved a bit to the side, where there was a small open space, and grabbed the rail above his head. People began to return to their own business. They probably didn't mind him too much, since he didn't make anyone move and he probably wouldn't return to the car again. Except that he did. Every morning he'd flash that sheepish grin and slide into the empty spot-his spot. I have to admit, the blonde guy is pretty good looking. So good looking that when I don't have anything to do, I sometimes just stare at the back of his gorgeous blonde head.

Most of the time, when the train pulls into our station, everyone in our car goes their separate ways, all going up different flights of stairs to head to our respective jobs. It seemed like I was the only one to use the stairway that leads to my work; until the blonde came. The first day I was surprised to see his blonde head at the top of the steps when I reached them. Because of his spot near the door, he always gets out faster than me. I always trail behind him as he heads down the street, until we reach the first corner. He always goes straight, while I have to go left. For some reason, he always manages to catch the light before I do, so he's already crossed the street by the time I reach the corner and the light is red for me. Even when I hurry out of the car and am right on his heel the pedestrian light always tells me to stop before my heel touches the street.

Today, New York looks extra dreary; the December snow clouds starting to roll in. I yawn as I take my seat and take a sip of my hot chocolate. For a moment I ask myself why I subject myself to waking up at such an ungodly hour, but then I remind myself that I'm a well-paid secretary at a law firm, so if I want to pay my bills I have to suck it up. After a few more stops, the blonde gets on, looking overly happy for such a dull day. As the train departs the station, my head begins to lull to the side. The train suddenly makes a jerking turn to the left, and my limp body is pushed to the wall, making me spill my hot chocolate all over my red dress.

"You've got to be kidding me." I groan out loud, causing a few people to glance my way, including the blonde, who looks slightly amused. I stand up and push my way to the door. A few people give me startled glances, but I ignore them. I'm just so frustrated. I just got this dress and now it was going to be ruined. I kept a spare pair of clothes at the office, but there's no hope for this dress if I don't immediately wash it. And I have to walk two blocks before I get to the office. Great.

As we reach the station, people begin to stand. As soon as the doors open a crack I squeeze through them and storm through the station, my heels making loud clicking noises. My arms and neck start to feel sticky, making me walk even faster. When I reach the top of the stairs, I inhale a sharp breath as the cold air hits me. At least I had taken off my jacket when I entered the subway, so it was spared. I shrug it on and continue on.

Suddenly, the sound of fast, heavy footsteps approach behind me as I almost reach the first street corner. I grab my purse and whirl around, expecting to someone that'd try to mug me, but instead I see the blonde guy, running down the street towards me. I stop and stare.

Is he running to me? I think.

I wait for a moment. When he reaches me I expect him to stop, but instead he breezes right on past me, stopping at the street corner. I narrow my eyes at him as he leans against the street pole, out of breath. I walk so I'm standing right in front of him.

"Are you late to work or something?" I ask, crossing my arms.

The blonde looks down at me and gives me a lop sided grin. "No."

I blink. "Then why were you running?"

He lets out a breathy laugh. "It's stupid."

I raise my eyebrows. "Just tell me."

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

I let out a huff. "No I won't. For the love of pickles will you please just tell me?"

He pauses a moments before he speaks. "For the last three months, I've beaten you to this street corner every day. You were about to beat me, so I ran."

I blink slowly. "Um, what?"

He runs his fingers through his hair. "When we get off the train I walk faster than you so-"

"No, I get what you said." I interrupt. "But I wouldn't call it 'beating me.'"

He smirks. "Well it is beating you if I get here first."

"But it's not fair."

"What do you mean?"

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "You're closer to the doors. I'm at the back. You get off before I do. You have longer legs."

"You just don't like the thought that you lost at something, do you?" He crosses his arms and gives me another stupid smirk.

"No! I didn't even know that I was losing at something until five seconds ago! Therefore it's not fair to judge if I had no idea that we were racing or whatever in the first place!" My arms are waving all over the place and I'm pretty sure I look like a five year old.

He just shakes his head. "We'll see. Oh, and the hot chocolate really compliments your eyes." He turns on his heel and crosses the street, leaving me on the corner.

Ok, now I'm fuming. First the hot chocolate, and now this nonsense. It's stupid, I know, but it makes me mad to know that I'm losing at something. I'm very competitive. I love to win.

Guess who's wearing running shoes tomorrow.

A&A

When I get on the train the next morning, I try my hardest not to look antsy. Not that anyone pays attention to me, anyways. I wore black pants today so that my running shoes wouldn't be as noticeable. Usually I nearly fall asleep on the train, but today I'm wide awake.

When the blonde boards, he gives me a quick glance and smirks. My cheeks heat up. I suddenly feel silly, but my desire to win pushes that feeling away. As we get nearer to the station, I begin to stand up. I only get a few glances. I slowly make my way to the doors, pretending to look at my watch so people might think I'm just going to be late. As I pass the blonde, he smirks at me and I glare back. I'm finally standing right at the door when the train pulls into the station.

As soon as the doors open, I jump out. I don't run, but I walk very quickly to the stairs. I can hear the blonde's footsteps behind me. He begins to pick up speed, and then he's almost right behind me. When I get to the top of the stairs, I break out into a run. My purse flops at my side and the cold stings my face. I hear him begin to run too, so I push myself to go faster. The street corner comes into view as the blonde appears at my side. He looks over at me and smirks, then picks up his pace. Damn his long legs.

We weave through annoyed looking pedestrians. The corner is just a few strides away. The blonde reaches it seconds before I do. Cursing, I bend over and put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"Nice try." The blonde smirks at me and holds out his hand.

I roll my eyes and swat his hand away. "You only won because you're legs are longer."

"Keep telling yourself that." He winks at me then turns around and crosses the street.

Oh it is on.

A&A

He beats me the next three days. I blame his freakishly long legs; my short ones give me no chance. Today I decide to try something different. Instead of getting in my usual car, which is the fifth one back, I get in the very first car. I know that I could risk losing my spot on the car, but I wanted to win.

When the train approaches the blonde's station, I look out the window to the platform and watch as he boards our usual car. He's probably already congratulating himself on an easy victory, thinking I'm not here today, but boy is he wrong. I can't help the devious smile that spreads across my face. Great, I probably look like a serial killer.

When the train arrives at the station, I stand right in front of the doors to ensure I'm the first one off. I squeeze through the doors as they open and don't hesitate for a moment before I break into a sprint. I think I hear a yell coming from farther down the station, but I can barely hear anything because of the wind rushing past.

I take the stairs three at a time, which is a difficult feat for my tiny legs. I reach the top and push myself to go faster down the street. I don't hear footsteps behind me, which makes me grin. I probably look like a crazy woman- sprinting down the sidewalks of New York, smiling like an idiot.

Finally I see the street corner. My thighs are burning, but I push harder. I let out a scream of happiness as I reach the corner. A few people jump and glare at me, but I don't care. I jump up and down and slap the lamp poll, squealing like a little girl the whole time. A minute later, I see the blonde come running down the street. When he reaches me, he looks shocked.

"You-You beat me!" He says in disbelief.

I continue to jump up and down. "Yes I did! In your face!"

He slumps against the lamp pole and runs his hand through his hair. "How? I thought you weren't even here today."

I beam up at him. "I rode in the first car this morning so I could get a head start."

He shakes his head, but smiles at me. "Well now I have to know the name of the girl who finally beat me to the street corner."

I giggle and hold out my hand. "Ally Dawson. And what would the name be of the man who's life goal was to beat me to the street corner every day for three months?"

He gives me a lopsided grin and shakes my hand, his touch sending sparks dancing across my palm. "Austin Moon."

"Hm. I always thought you looked more like a Stewart or a Norman." I say with faux seriousness.

He tilts his head back and laughs, and I decide that his laugh is my new favorite sound. "Well I thought you looked more like a Gertrude or a Mildred."

I laugh and swat at his arm, and he pretends that I hurt him.

"So what do you say that I take you out to coffee to celebrate your victory?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Like right now?"

He puts his hands in his coat pockets and pushes off of the street light. "Yes, right now."

"Don't you have work?"

He raises his eyebrows and gives me a mischievous smile.

"I was fired two months ago."

A&A

I'm very sorry I didn't post last week. It was my little cousin's birthday party so I was gone all day and didn't have a chance to get on my laptop. I hope you liked this story. I saw a post on Tumblr that was the plot to this story (it was like the real life thing that happened to this lady) and it was like "imagine your otp" and I was like YES I IMAGINE MY OTP DOING THIS so yeah, creds to Tumblr. And if you didn't understand the ending it's supposed to be like Austin got fired two months ago but he still rode the subway every morning because he liked seeing Ally. Also I apologize for any mistakes.

Thank you to everyone who's left requests. I am working on them and I can hopefully promise to do all of them. Sometimes I just have this idea that's stuck in my head so I write that instead of a request for that week, but I promise I'll get them done. :)

Feel free to leave one shot requests. You can give me a prompt or a song or anything you want and I'll try to write a one shot about it.

I own nothing

Reviews Rock! (Especially requests)

Review, Follow, Favorite!

|April|