The Girl and Her Smile
Exhausted from the day’s work and contemplating with a hint of anxiety whether to leave or wait, I glanced at the clock nestled in the right corner of my Laptop screen — it read 4:35 PM. Summoning the courage and ensuring I didn’t attract anyone’s attention, I closed my laptop screen, mindful that others were still glued to theirs. I placed my belongings into my bag, all the while my brain concocting stories what my colleagues must be thinking, ultimately concluding they were probably thinking — ‘It’s not even 5 PM, and Charlie is already Leaving’ .Closing my bag, I subtly snuck out, holding my bag in my hand rather than over my shoulder.
As I got out of the sight of my manager, I felt a sigh of relief. I made my way to the lift and pressed the down button, silently hoping for a solo ride. As the doors parted, I hurriedly made my way to press the ‘G’ button, swiftly followed by five presses of the close button aiming to minimize the chances of last-minute lift intruders. As the doors closed without anyone joining, another wave of relief washed over me. I desperately needed these five seconds of isolation.
When I turned around, I caught my reflection in the elevator mirror and began adjusting my hair. I felt the weight of age settling in once again and I couldn’t shake the thought that I looked older than I felt. Feeling the slight jostle of the elevator as it stopped, I turned around just at the right moment as the doors opened, only to be met with the curious gazes of onlookers waiting to ascend.
Head down, I stepped out of the elevator, slipping on my headphones for added distraction from the people around me. I noticed others were also leaving — that was reassuring; I wasn’t the only one departing early. Approaching the turnstiles, I reached for my scan card hanging from my waist and swiped it. As I passed through the gates, I looked up to find her, her face softly lit by the glow of the computer screen, eagerly awaiting, awaiting for my arrival with a warm smile.
That’s how it felt in those initial 2 seconds, it felt as though she was waiting for me. Her smile carried a profound innocence, as if it whispered to me, “Charlie, everything is alright. You’re entitled to leave work early; after all, you arrive before everyone else. Your dedication speaks volumes, not the hour you depart. You’re a valued employee, Charlie.”
There’s a certain charm in a smile adorned with braces — it speaks of purity and sincerity. When she smiled at me, it was special, genuine. You could tell it was genuine because it lingered in my mind, imprinting itself upon my memory.
I smiled back, but it was one of those insincere ones that seem almost automatic in today’s world. You know, the kind you give when you unexpectedly lock eyes with someone on the street and feel compelled to respond to their odd stare with a fake grin.
I stepped outside, music blasting in my ears, the memory of that smile lingering as I started walking home.
While walking, my heart subsided and my brain took over. I couldn’t help but wonder why she had smiled at me. I had been taking that path for the last 12 months, and no one had ever smiled at me before. My brain insisted she was just doing her job, but this time, my heart felt a stronger pull. Throughout the walk home, I couldn’t stop thinking about that smile. It had such a profound impact on me that I wanted to express my appreciation in some way, to offer her a token of gratitude for it. I just wanted to thank her.
As I made my way into the office the next day, passing the empty chair where she sat yesterday, instead of fully appreciating the impact of her smile, I found myself once again pondering whether she had simply had a good day the day before, and conveyed that feeling through her smile. My brain suggested that it seemed unusual these days for people to smile so graciously at strangers.
As the second day drew to a close, aware that she was sitting at her chair, I tapped my card on the scanner and glanced at her. There she was, wearing the same genuine smile with the same air of innocence. I smiled back, though mine lacked the same authenticity, it was better than the day before. Once again, the thought struck me, feeling impelled to do something for her, anything really. I remembered the water bottle with the Google logo I had received at a conference. Surely she would appreciate it; after all, who doesn’t love Google?
On the third day, as I finished work and scanned my card, I noticed her absence, It occurred to me that it was Tuesday, perhaps she worked part-time. She had a youthful appearance, suggesting she might be a student at the university nearby. The image of her smile lingered in my mind as I made my way home, contemplating whether I should tell her how much her smile brightened my day.
The next day, as I stepped into the office in the morning, I spotted her at the reception. With the bustling atmosphere around me and her engrossed in her computer, I couldn’t bear the thought of passing by her without receiving her smile. In that moment of apprehension, I glanced at the nearby TV screen, reassuring myself that any absence of her smile wasn’t intentional, but rather the result of my oversight.
As the day came to a close, fully committed to telling her how her smile makes me feel at the end of the working day, I made my way towards the turnstiles. As I continued towards the scanner, my gaze swept across the reception area, searching for her presence, but she remained elusive. Disappointed, I continued my ritual of scanning my card, putting on my headphones, and strolled along the familiar path home. On the way, while waiting for the road to cross, my gaze fixed on the right side of the road, anticipating an opening to cross the road. An opportunity presented itself, prompting me to quickly glance to my left to ensure no cars were approaching, only to find her standing beside me the whole time. “Ah, it’s the girl with the smile,” I thought.” As we crossed the road, neither of us exchanged any words, yet we were fully aware of our shared workplace and previous encounters. Perhaps it was nerves or apprehension — I couldn’t say for certain. I didn’t want to come off as intrusive, and maybe she felt similarly. We walked in silence, her presence trailing behind me. When I reached a red light, I resisted the urge to glance back and gauge her proximity, fearing it might be misinterpreted. Waiting, she came to stand beside me, both of us waiting for the signal to change. I stole a sideways glance at her, aware of her awareness that we were colleagues. When the light finally turned green, there was a subtle tug-of-war between us. I wished for her to lead the way, yet she seemed to want the same. I pretended not to notice the change, but as she took a small step forward, I, conscious of her preference, took a larger stride and hastened my pace. As I rounded the final corner on my way home and crossed the road, eager to catch a glimpse of her, I discovered that she had already vanished into the crowd, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering memory of her smile. Throughout the remainder of my journey home, I couldn’t shake the sense of missed opportunity and the longing to somehow convey the profound impact her smile had left on me.
It was probably her last day at work; I can’t tell for sure. It’s been four weeks since I last saw her. With each passing day, the possibility that she might simply be on vacation and will return the next day diminishes.
