Page 62 of Leaving the Station
“Maybe you can sleep in the lower bunk tonight?” she says. “You know how cold it gets in the sleeper car.”
“Of course,” I say, nodding with mock seriousness. “We’ll need to cuddle for warmth.”
“But I’m the big spoon.”
“Fine,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. But really, it’s more than fine: I want to be held.
I turn on my side, and she burrows her face into the back of my neck.
“I’m glad you’re down here,” she says.
I grin, and she kisses my shoulder, and we fall asleep wrapped together in the bottom bunk of her sleeper car, in a part of the country I’ve never seen in the light of day.
With no mention of what we’d just revealed to each other.
Eleven
Wednesday, 4 a.m., near Fargo, ND
Neither of us have slept much since we kissed earlier. Oakley keeps stirring and pulling me closer, as if I might return to coach if she lessens her grip.
“I’ve never been to North Dakota,” I whisper as the conductor wakes the sleeping train to announce that we’re pulling into Fargo.
Oakley laughs, and the puff of air tickles my neck. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Okay, but haveyou?”
She’s silent for a moment. “Well, no.”
I flip over so that we’re facing each other, bodies pressed close under the thin Amtrak-supplied blanket. “Know-it-all.”
She shoves me, and we’re both laughing, and then we’re kissing again, more gently than we were a few hours ago.
When we’re touching like this, my brain is blissfully quiet. I’m not thinking about who I am, or who I’mnot,or the string of bad decisions I made to wind up here.
The only thing in the world is Oakley’s hand on my waist,mine in her hair, our legs twisted like snakes.
My body feels like my own when it’s pressed against hers.
“When I booked a room in a sleeper car, I knew I’d getsomeperks, but nothing like this,” she says, grinning with puffy lips. “I’ll have to leave a good review so Amtrak knows to continue this service.”
“What can I say?” I try and fail to keep a straight face. “We offer only the best to our Empire Builder clientele.”
I know it’s a joke, but it makes me think about how Ihaven’toffered my best to many other people.
I turn to the other side so that Oakley can spoon me again. I don’t want her to see the look on my face as my thoughts turn sour.
My parents have no idea there’s anything wrong because I’ve hidden it from them. They think I’ll be heading back to college after Thanksgiving break, a premed student following the path that’s been placed before me.
Their good little girl.
I don’t know how to tell them that I’m dropping out. Maybe they’ll make it easy and will kick me out when I tell them; at least then I won’t have to face the shame of living under their roof.
“You okay?” Oakley asks.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “Just a little restless.”
“We could go out to the observation car?” she suggests. “Look at the beautiful sights.” She points to the pitch blackness out of the lower-bunk window.
