Mia sits in the icy-cool subway car trying not to obsess. She looks at her nails. They’re chipped, a little discolored from too much time sitting under thick white paint. She had them that way for three weeks because she saw someone online with clean white nails. Those three weeks were just enough for the paint to dry out her nail beds and cause a yellow tint that only she can see. She looks up and sees a scratch on the window. She imagines what it might be like to just take the entire window glass out completely. Then, the nails. 

Jacob is a world-class hiker. Well, his friends said so. It’s time for his first solo hike. His parents gave him the go-ahead a few days ago. After all, he was in the wilderness club in high school. Living at home while his friends go to college has been hard, but January is his month to kick himself into gear. The holidays delivered just enough gentle prodding from his relatives that he’s decided to do something. 

The train comes to a stop, and Mia tries not to obsess. The lights get dim and the cool air no longer pumps around the car. A droplet of sweat begins to form on Mia’s upper lip. With that droplet, Mia’s entire morning of putting on color corrector and foundation could be compromised. She tries not to obsess. She thinks about the stubble on her upper lip and can almost feel it growing. She is not obsessing. She imagines herself at home, nails freshly painted, not a drop of sweat on her. 

Jacob laces up his new size 11 hiking boots that his parents were more than happy to give him the money to buy. Anything to get him out of the house. Sure, they loved him. But, they loved the fact that he was going on this hike more. Jacob slinks into his mom’s minivan and puts in a CD of The Rolling Stones that his family used to listen to on long car trips. He takes out the directions (that he printed out in a large font) and backs out of the garage. 

Mia has made it to the CVS she likes. The one in the West Village with the nice cashier. She makes a swift entrance, hoping to be the only shopper. Most people are at work, most people are at work, most people are at work. A song plays faintly over the speakers. One of those songs that sounds happy but is about having your heart broken or your house burnt down. 

Jacob pulls into the parking lot, the one with the small “J. HINTON MOUNTAIN TRAIL” sign on it. He pulls the key out of the ignition. His therapist told him to do those breathing exercises, and he thinks about doing them. He watches as a family of five gets out of their car and heads up the trail. The youngest of the bunch is kicking up large amounts of dirt and the oldest is sucking on a Camelbak water bottle. Mick Jagger’s voice plays on a faint loop in Jacob’s head. Some useless information, supposed to fire my imagination, I can’t get no— 

Mia scans the cosmetics aisle, hearing a clock ticking in her head. Something tells her that someone is coming down the aisle, so she begins walking toward the snacks. She fondles the chocolate pretzels and the fruit snacks before she makes her way back to the cosmetics. There is someone there. They have a nice, bright face, though. And long acrylic nails. Nails that aren’t discolored. 

Jacob puts his key in the ignition. The heat blasts back on and hits his face harshly. He forgot how high he had it on. ‘Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try. I can’t get no— 

Mia pretends to answer her phone. It’s her “landlord” and she is “behind on a payment”. She gives a good performance. 

Jacob pulls into the garage. He looks at the clock in the car that reads “12:06”. He was gone for 46 minutes. 

Mia is back on the train. 

Jacob reclines the car seat. 

She closes her eyes.

He closes his. 

They both try those breathing exercises.