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Again, why do I care?
I’m getting sick of the way she’s making me feel tonight. Not that she’s done anything wrong. Hell, the only thing she’s done is make me feel like I’m second-guessing everything that falls out of my mouth.
My phone vibrates because Mike has finally stopped boning Cindy long enough to text me.
Mike: What the hell? Why? Where are you going?
I answer his text the only way I can:
Me: Fucking Florida.
The three dots pop up right away, and I know he’s losing his shit. It doesn’t take long for his next message to come in.
Mike: Seriously? Why? Don’t let Sam pull you in!
Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone back into my pocket.
Jackass.
I check on Claire again, but she’s still staring out the window. I thought she talked too much, but now I wish she would say something.
“What are you thinking?”
Did I seriously just ask her that? I must have because she’s staring at me with those big brown eyes that make me question everything.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around being on this train with you.”
That makes two of us. “Well, you’ve got plenty of time to let it sink in.” Hell, I’ve got plenty of time to let it sink in.
She shakes her head and adjusts herself so that she’s facing me. “I’m sorry. It was sweet of you to offer to come with me, you know. Especially considering we don’t exactly know each other.”
“Claire Ackerman from some small-ass town in Pennsylvania. Honor roll student who went to NYU to major in...English? And...” I take in her outfit again. “enjoys nighttime hikes in dresses. What else do I need to know?”
She smiles, and I’m surprised how much I like the fact that I’m the one who put it there. Narrowing her eyes, she studies me. “For starters, I’m studying education at Steinhardt.” She glances down at her shoes. “And these are not hiking boots.”
“Uh, those are definitely hiking boots. I’ve seen them on the yuppies who think it’s cool to walk the mountain.” There’s only one mountain in our town. We used to take the service road up there to drink when we were underage, but now that everyone wants to clean up the town, they’re trying to pass it off as a nature trail.
She frowns slightly. “What’s wrong with hiking the mountain?”
I run a hand over my face. “Nothing, Claire. Are you a yuppie? No, you’re one of us.” I glance over at her and can’t fight the smile pulling at my lips. “Barely. But you’re one of us.”
For some reason, this seems to make her feel better. Claire Ackerman is not one of us, but if thinking she is means she won’t cry, so be it.
She falls quiet again. I don’t know why her silence eats at me. I usually can’t wait for people to stop talking.
Even Jasmine.
Jasmine isn’t even annoying, and every time she opens her mouth to say something, I get the urge to hold my breath until it’s over.
When Claire doesn’t talk, it’s unsettling. My heel bounces against the floor, and I purposefully slam my foot down to make it stop.
What the hell?
It isn’t until she turns to me and says “We should play a game,” that I feel more like myself and wish she would have kept her mouth shut.
14
Claire
