Strangers in a lift

She stood in the lift lobby managing, with great difficulty, a huge folder, 3 books she had just borrowed from the university library, her backpack which she feared would tear open any minute with all the things she’d stuffed inside, and music. Her iPod was the only thing that held her calm in this situation; without it, she would’ve dropped the books down in anger and flung the folder across. (!)

The lift seemed to be taking so long to come from just seven floors above.
He came to the lift lobby soon, slightly panting, out of breath. She cast him a customary glance and turned her head the other way.
One of the earbuds of her iPod fell down, exposing the ABBA song that was going on in full blast. As though the mysterious power that had held her together all that time was gone, she dropped the folder, and while bending to pick it up, two books.
Flustered, she threw the other book down too, so she could organise everything back to balance once again.

He bent to help her get the books too – he couldn’t just stand there while someone was struggling with a huge load. As he kneeled next to her, he could hear the song from her one-down earphone.
“ABBA…” he said, and smiled.
She nodded, giving him a quizzical look. Cautious woman that she was, she wondered why on earth he was telling her that.

“I really love their songs…and this one, tops my list…” he continued. She continued looking, nonplussed, shooting a “So?” with her expression.
He received the message perfectly. He straightened himself up and gave her the folder that he’d picked up.
“Thanks,” she said.

The lift finally came. Embarrassed that he was, for nothing at all, he went in first. And she saw, with surprise, a picture of the ABBA singers in his t-shirt’s back. She clearly hadn’t expected a t-shirt with this old band’s picture, now. She got into the lift, and smiled at him. He must be a huge fan of ABBA.
“Actually,” she said, trying hard to undo the rude image of herself she thought she’d conveyed to him. “This is my favourite song, too….sorta never fails to cheer me up, you know..”
It was his turn to be surprised.
“Which floor?” he asked.
“5,” she replied.

As people went in and out of the lift, making the ride longer, he introduced himself to her. Out of courtesy (and she was ashamed to admit, a bit of making-it-up) she introduced herself to him too.
“Storey 5” the voice in the lift. She looked at her watch. She was seventeen minutes late for her lecture. She quickly got out.
“Nice meeting you, bye,” she told him.
“Same here…bye,” he told her, and watched her start walking.
He stood for a moment, wondering what to do. He ran up to her.

“Hey, well, I…. don’t mean to sound silly, umm no, indecent? Not really…” he said, completely aware he was making a fool of himself there.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Umm, could I have your number? We could just meet up sometime, just like that.. maybe have dinner outside or something…I know you’ll be missing home food too…”

Wow, so much to ask for a number, she thought. She gave it to him and smiled.
“Don’t call, just message me, anytime after 8 evening….”
He nodded stupidly, as though noting down a teacher’s instructions for submitting an assignment.
“Am really late for class now, bye..” she said and hurried off.
He nodded again, late though. He had been busy waltzing around in his mind.

P.S.: My first attempt at romance. No asking if it’s a true experience, blah blah. I really won’t answer those, ok? :)
P.P.S.: The title is from the book “Shantaram”, from a phrase I really loved.