It was also tickling that the first words she said to me were the last words I ever expected to hear.
"Is that an Armani jacket?" A light voice flew to me above the symphony of Tokyo. I turned and glared. She didn't move. I turned it up a notch, yet still she remained adamant, poised like the question hanging in the air.
"No." It was a sharp answer. I wondered if it was too sharp. But she didn't sway. No, instead she sat down. I inhaled and exhaled, trying not to feel confined as I normally would. She turned to look at me. She smiled. And the games began.
She would smile and I would try my best not to get up and leave. I was the most anti-social person I had ever met and this was no exception. And yet, I stayed. I asked myself why, and she must have seen my pensive expression, because she started laughing. It tinkled like chimes through the air above our heads.
I turned to look at her, scrutinizing her. She didn't seem to mind. Her hair was wild, strands escaping her loose bun of black. A splash of freckles here and there, and a baggy pair of jeans, restricted only by a large grey jumped stating "CAROLINA". She whipped her head around to look at me, her deep blue eyes piercing into my mind, searching me for signs of life.
I doubted she would find any.