The couple sitting across the car clearly thought that this end of the subway would be a good private place to have their argument, and her body vibrates like a spring with barely suppressed tension.
“It’s just, no let me finish, just why do you feel the need for me to be small around your friends?” she seethes, and Katie tightens her grip on my arm while we conscientiously direct our eyes to anywhere but them.
Later, as we’re walking home from the subway, I remark, “It’s like we weren’t even there.”
“And by the way, congrats to us on becoming invisibly middle-aged,” Katie adds, high-fiving me.
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