Page 17 of Reeve

“…want a chance. Wait. What?” His eyes skewer mine, searching them for answers. “What are you talking about? Leaving? Leaving Skagway?”

“I’m going to college,” I say. “For nursing.”

His face brightens a little, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s a devastating smile because I think he’s sad but trying to be supportive. I’d just as soon never see it again.

“That’s…well, that’s amazing, Reeve. Good for you. When do you go?”

“Classes start in January.”

“Eugene or Seattle?”

This is a fair question. My dad went to U Dub, and my mom went to U of O. The rivalry within our family is well-known, almost legendary.

“Actually, neither,” I say. “I’m trailblazing a new path. I’ll be going to U of A. Anchorage.”

That smile that didn’t reach his eyes before? Now it does. Now it brightens his whole face and crinkles his eyes, and something inside of me sings.

“You’re staying in Alaska,” he says. “That’s great.”

He’s so pleased by this news, I can’t help but return his beautiful smile.

“Anchorage isn’t so far,” he says.

“It’s fifteen hours by car. That’s pretty far.”

“Less than four hours by plane,” he counters.

“True,” I say. “But I’m not just going there for school, Aaron. I need a change. I need to try living on my own. Away from my family. Away from Skagway. Away from everything and everyone I know. To be honest—and no offense intended—I don’t want to be distracted by people at home.”

He winces.

For whatever ungodly reason, I take this as a sign to continue talking, my words like a flood now that the dam’s been opened.

“That’s why I can’t date you. I—I need for my whole life to be up in Anchorage this spring. All of my focus. All of me. I can’t be mooning around for some guy I started dating at the ninth hour before leaving for school, you know? Your timing sucks. Sorry, but it does.”

“Wow. Okay. Got it.” He stands beside me, quiet for a long moment before adding, “Good luck with everything.”

“Thanks. I…”

When I look up, realizing that I should soften the blow of my words, I realize he’s gone. He’s walking up to the front of the line with long strides and leaving me behind.

McKenna and Tanner hurry back into line, and a minute later, the doors of the depot open to welcome everyone to “the North Pole.”

The atmosphere is festive, but damn, my heart feels heavy.

***

“Boy! Those folks sure can sing!” says McKenna, sitting down beside me as the train chugs back toward Skagway. She’s been singing Christmas carols with a group at the front of the train car for the better part of half an hour.

I hand her the rest of her (now cold) hot cocoa. “Wet your whistle?”

“Thanks!” she says, finishing the paper cup without complaint. “Looks like we’re almost home…which means you’ve officially experienced the Yuletide Express! What did you think?”

“It was fun,” I tell her, but she can see that my heart isn’t in my words.

For the last hour and a half while she’s been making merry, I’ve been thinking about Aaron; specifically about the way hisface lit up when I told him I’d be studying in Anchorage, and not in the Lower 48. It was such a genuine reaction of hope and relief, the memory of it pulls at my heart, and I feel worse and worse about shooting him down so brutally.

“Come on,” says McKenna. “What’s on your mind?”

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