Lorelei appeared to have lost her balance on the BART train platform as she fell forward. Suddenly, a strong pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her back, stopping her from falling onto the tracks. Her hair blew across her face, obscuring her view as the train rushed past her. When she came around, she found a young guy speaking to her. He was saying something and shaking her, but she heard and felt nothing. Suddenly, she snapped out of it and the rest of the world rushed back into focus.
“What’s your name?” he said in a raised voice, but she still had trouble deciphering what he said. She blinked at him and tried to focus.
As she started to come back, she realized this young hipster kid had saved her life.
What makes someone a “hipster?” she asked herself. To Lorelei, it was anyone under thirty, wearing a beanie hat, ironic facial hair, or gauge earrings. This guy was a kid—he couldn’t be more than twenty-five, but at her age of thirty-six, they were all kids or hipsters to her. Lorelei’s rule: if you can’t remember Star Wars on VHS, then you’re too young. Period! Realizing this was an odd thought to have at this very second, Lorelei straightened herself, smoothed her hair, and tried to regain her composure.
“Hello, I’m Lorelei Prince.”
She stepped back and assessed him. He was too nicely dressed to be one of San Francisco’s crazy homeless—just one of San Francisco’s young, tragically hip and very attractive.
“I’m Holden McCaffrey,” he replied. He was still holding her shoulders, making sure she didn’t fall again. His warm touch was the first thing she’d noticed as she finally realized what had happened.
She wasn’t sure if she was still in shock from almost falling on the BART track or if she misheard him. She realized he had a British accent. She would never tire of that British accent. So she softly repeated, “Holden?”
He took a deep breath and smiled. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to answer this question.
“Yes, my mother loved Catcher in the Rye. It’s weird, I know.”
She took a deep breath and pulled away from him. His warm smile and green eyes made her body tingle unlike it ever had before. He blinked and let go of her, unable to ignore their sudden connection.
Lorelei smoothed her hair, trying to regain her composure. “Oh no, it’s a cool name. Most kids your age are named Dylan or Brandon after the guys from 90210.”
His expression changed when she said the word “kid.” She worried she’d just offended the guy who saved her life.
Lorelei fidgeted with her clothes and looked at the sign for the next train. Holden followed her stare to see what she was doing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine. I must have gotten pushed by someone walking by.”
He looked at her, concerned. He knew there was no one next to her on the platform, and she looked as if she was going to pass out.
The next train approached, and she looked at her watch, realizing she might now be late for work.
On a whim, he grabbed his phone. “Let me take a picture of us.”
She relented with a slightly agitated look despite the fact he just saved her life.
What is it with this generation and bad photos? she thought. Nothing’s worse than kids and “selfies.” No one my age looks good in a selfie.
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