Star jumped at the voice, then smiled, looking just a little embarrassed and shaking her head, swinging her lunchbox down from the tabletop and under her seat to make more room for the other woman, the table was small, after all. She slid a notepad out of her pocket, writing down a quick: help yourself, I like the window too, even in the rain, sliding it over so the other woman could see.
Her handwriting was tidy, an even, tight block print, the kind of penmanship that would have made an English teacher cry tears of joy.