At 5 p.m., I bike through the campus to BART. I jostle for position after making people move from the bike area. They stare at me all irritated, like I’m a nuisance. I just smile at them. I choose to extend my arm to the side and grab the bar. I feel the heat from the two bodies on either side of me. Through the window at the end of the train, I can see another group of young people dancing. At the Sixteenth Street station, I get off and roll my bike to the exit. The escalator crowds with people, and there’s a sign that explicitly states NO BIKES. I step to the stairs and look up at what
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