Train

I never realized how fast time flew by when I was in University until my first semester exams were over and done with and then suddenly I was on a train, heading back home to see my family for Christmas break. I was excited. I had never taken the train by myself before, or any form of transportation besides the city bus now and again, but when it was trips across cities and I was going to be sitting around going from Montreal to my hometown for nearly seven hours, it was a little intimidating.

We boarded at eight in the morning and the station was an hour away walking from my residence, so I had to wake up around five, shower and get myself ready—excluding breakfast because of my time restriction—then continued to check all of my bags and suitcases one last time to make sure I didn’t forget everything. And once all of that was out of the way, I pinned my naturally curly brown hair back off my face and around the side, grabbed my coat and dragged my things through the snow, slush and dirt all the way to the train station. Taxi drivers never stopped around her, even when you lifted a hand to show them you needed the ride. Really, all they were doing was lowering how much money they got but that was their choice. When I got there at seven, people were beginning to take their seats and leave their belongings with the people working on the train, who then placed them in storage at the back. I took out my ticket even though I had heard they didn’t check them until after you were half way to your destination, and made my way over. That was the thing that always had me wondering about trains; if you snuck onto the train or lost your ticket or something else happened that you didn’t have it out when the tall guy in the cap came around to check, would they just dump you on the side of the tracks?

After handing my suitcase off to the man that practically demanded it, he placed it in the caboose and I climbed onto the train, undoing the unusually large black buttons of my red coat and holding it over my arm. I was glancing down to my ticket and then back up repeatedly so I could find the seat I had listed and when I did, I put my coat and carry-on bag in the overhead storage cabinet and slid into my seat by the window. I crossed my legs and took out my cell phone, checking the time and then looking back out to the platform where people were kissing and hugging, smiling and crying, and just generally saying their heated, emotional goodbyes. I smiled, and secretly wished that I had someone to say goodbye to like that when I left but it was a little late now.

I heard feet approaching and looked up when they were practically right beside me. A body hovered, head blocked by the storage cupboards but from the body, it was definitely a boy. And a very fit boy at that. He ducked his head and gave me a little smile before sitting down in his seat directly across from mine. The train was organized so that there were two pairs of seats all facing a table in the center with a thin window beside each mahogany chair. All in all, it was very comfortable and created a nice ambience too. It wasn’t too wild and crazy with colours, or a dull grey that would make someone feel nauseous halfway through the ride, but it was very classy and sophisticated. My parents had paid for the train back home so I didn’t know exactly how much they had spent on my travel but I could only imagine it was fairly expensive.

“What miserable weather,” the boy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s pretty crappy,” I agreed. I did a double take; he looked familiar and I was pretty sure I had seen him around my University. If my memory served correctly, he was three years my senior on his very last year and was one of the medical students studying there, just like myself. I definitely remembered passing girls numerous times while they were talking about him and now I understood why; he was stunning. But I couldn’t bear in mind what his name was. “Sorry, do I know you?” I asked and he looked up. “It’s just . . . you seem a little familiar.”

“I’ve seen you around before, yeah,” he said with a tiny smile. “Shayne, right? Shayne Dawson. You work for the student magazine.”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised that he recognized me and yet I didn’t know him from Adam. “You know me?”

“I’ve passed by the office a few times and saw you working on the computer. I read a few of your articles as well. You’re really passionate about social issues, aren’t you?” he laughed.

“I am,” I verified. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” He pushed his bangs to the side and looked at me through his eyelashes. “Names are jeopardous.”

“You—” I stopped myself, not entirely sure what to say. I sat back, stumped. “Jeopardous, eh?”

He gave a curt nod of the head. “I don’t give it out to people too often, unless it’s a teacher or someone who will benefit from knowing it. And chances are, we’ll only talk for the next seven hours we’re on the train and then after that, we’ll just go back to our ordinary lives. If someone knows your name, it makes you vulnerable.”

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued. “You’re an interesting person.”

“I know I am.”

“You’ve got a good logic too. How do you make friends?”

“I just do.”

“Hm. Then I’ll call you ‘Stranger’.”

“Works for me.” He put his elbow on the arm of the seat and his chin in his hand, relaxing. “So where are you headed?”

“I’m visiting my family. What about you? Where are you going?”

He turned to look out the window and whispered, “anywhere.”