The boy looked at the passing landscape. His palms were sweaty, his heartbeat rose. That feeling you get right before you meet someone special… it makes you more aware of your surroundings.
The train stopped. While stepping out, the boy observed his reflection in the window. He’d seen that look before. “I hope she likes my mustache” he thought.
But she didn’t. “What is that hair doing on your upper lip?” she asked. Not the words the boy was hoping for. So he sold her the coke and jumped right back on the departing train.