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I open my mouth to say something in reply, but mom steps in, trying to keep the mood light.
“Now, Suzanna. That’s two questions really, so I don’t think Natasha has to answer either if she doesn’t want to. We’re trying to have fun here, not make each other miserable,” she says, giving me a knowing and sympathetic wink.
Suzanna goes quiet. The sting of her earlier comment is still fresh in my mind.
I ball one hand into a fist, and pretending to wind it open with my other hand, I flip Suzanna the bird, seeing us both make a face once she pokes her tongue out before we both dissolve into a fit of giggle like idiots all over again.
“Okay, okay,” I say, waving my hands before anyone else gets to speak. Grateful to get out of my turn.
“Suzanna’s turn,” I say with as much foreboding as I can muster, but she squeals with excitement, eager to have her turn even if it means forgetting all about mine.
“Truth,” she says without hesitation, actually shivering as if she has something to get off her chest.
She whispers something to my mom again, making me feel hot in the face.
I don’t like it when the two of them gang up on me like this, but mom pats my knee, suggesting maybe she should ask Suzanna a ‘truth’ question.
“To keep it clean if nothing else,” she adds, giving my best friend another sidelong glance.
The train lets out a loud blast from the horn as we approach another crossing.
Something hits the side of the train with a dull thud making us all stop for a second and look. The train feels like it’s moving in slow motion.
There are three or four RVs parked, waiting at the crossing with a crowd waving and jeering at the train.
Someone even moons the train as it passes noisily, they all seem so loud for some reason. Even from inside the train.
College jocks and their girlfriends who’ve decided to drive back home convoy style.
Making as much a nuisance of themselves as they ever did in school.
It’s when I catch the face of the one who threw something at the train when my stomach heaves. Of all the people in the world why that face.
“I gotta go use the bathroom,” I groan, suddenly standing up and lurching as the train rounds a bend.
I clutch my stomach by instinct and somehow find the ladies’ room.
Cramming myself in the tiny cubicle of a bathroom I take the empty seat and hold my head in my hands, crying.
Crying like I have for the past four years.
Why… I thought I was rid of you once and for all…
Suzanna’s joking around today almost made me forget the past four years.
All the times I told mom and Suzanna that college was great.
It kinda wasn’t.
Suze knows me better than anyone, and always told me she’d be there if I needed her every time I told her I was fine.
I really thought it was all behind me, that I’d never have to see those morons again.
But it is over. You’re going home and you never will see them ever again… So get up and dust yourself off.
I dry my eyes with the sandpaper they pass as toilet tissue and blow my nose. Feeling a little better I head back to our rail car.
Mom is still there with a far off look as I come back.
“You okay sweetie?” she asks, her eyes full of concern.
“I’ll be alright. Where’s Suze?” I ask, sniffing as it registers I can’t hide the fact I was crying.
“She’s in the bathroom, that way,” she says, wrinkling her mouth as she jerks her thumb in the opposite direction I just came from.
“What’s wrong with that?” I ask confused.
“Nothing,” Mom says. “Now tell me what upset you, was it Suzanna, just now?” she insists. “I’m not going with you the whole way home, so we don’t have all day together,” she reminds me.
Mom really is trying to work things out again with my dad, even moving in with him for a while. Letting Suze and I have our home all to ourselves.
“Nothing,” I fib. “Just motion sickness I think,” I murmur, looking past her as I hear Suzanna coming back, her squealing, shrieking voice winding up with each step she takes.
Like a chipmunk on helium.
“What is it?” I ask, almost annoyed by her happiness as she grips onto my arm with both of her hands.
“Your turn next, Natasha. I don’t care about the rules… it’s gotta be a dare!” she squeaks, digging into my arm so hard I’m thinking she’s lost her mind.
“Fine,” I huff, pulling my arm back.
“Dare,” I tell her defiantly.
Do your worst.
Chapter Two
Michael
Why the train?
I ask myself that again before I even get aboard. I’ve got my laptop, my duffle bag and that’s all. But there’s something about the train that seems different.
