Phosphenes
chapter three
When I got to the station at six thirty-seven, according to the time on my phone, Tom was already sitting on a bench beside the ticketing station. He flagged me down from where he sat, raising a hand from his knee, balanced over the other, an easy smile stretching across his face. He was dressed in a tan pair of corduroy skinny jeans, a blue button up and sensible shoes. His hair was less than presentable, and on closer inspection, I could see that his shirt was actually buttoned one wrong – one side was hanging too long, and his sunglasses were falling from the breast pocket.
“Good morning,” he said, standing when I was within a few feet. He was smiling still, as he stood, greeting me – I was surprised, as he reached forward, embracing me quickly in hello. I mumbled hello, good morning, somewhere between the initial shock of him hugging me and his cheek sliding against mine. He stepped back, releasing me, and pulled something from his back pocket – two small, rectangular pieces of paper, neutral in color with navy font. I looked from the paper, to Tom, to the paper again.
“I feel like I’m imposing,” he said, quietly, a pink creeping up his neck. “I honestly do, so I decided I would pay your train fare in return of your generous agreement to let me accompany you. I didn’t know… well, I-I’m not sure how you Americans are on things like that, so I made sure to arrive early so you wouldn’t have time to refuse.” He looked up, at me, and smiled again. He had been talking with his hands, the tickets fluttering between his fingers. He blinked twice, chuckling once, his smile growing even more. He looked down again, holding out one ticket. I took it, holding the paper between my index finger and thumb.
“Well, I’ll let you know that Americans love free stuff,” I said, tucking my ticket in my front pocket. I reached forward, catching Tom’s arm to check his watch for the time – we started toward the train, finding a seat on the right side, which fit fewer people than the left side, taking seats across from each other. I motioned toward his buttons, laughing when he blushed, chuckling, taking to buttoning his top correctly.
“So,” I said, as the train lurched, sending us forward, in Tom’s direction. We both watched on through the window, looking across at one another every few minutes. “Does this bring back memories? Like all those years boarding the train in September… the trolley witch bringing you sweets to buy and all of your mates joking around over Acid Pops? No? Oh…” My words were getting lost as I continued, my smile growing as I watched Tom’s eyes fall deeper and deeper, his gaze narrowing, that famous scowl falling over his features.
“Bite me,” Tom said, somewhere across from me as my eyes shut, my laughs shaking me. I couldn’t stop laughing as Tom continued to glower at me. I covered my mouth with my hand, taking a deep breath.
“You know, you’re really not helping yourself right now,” I told him, pulling my hand away from my lips. “You’ve got that world famous scowl going on. It’s so Draco-esque that I’m ready to crawl into the caboose of this train and die.”
To my amazement, Tom chuckled, his cheeks pinking up, before he turned his head back to the window. I did the same, crossing one of my legs over the other and setting my focus on the scenery as we passed. Fifteen minutes later, the train started to slow, before finally coming to a stop in Nice. Tom and I joined the groups bustling out of the cars, making our way out onto the platform.
Everything about Nice was fantastic. We sidestepped the beach, taking a Ferry out to sea. The water was so clean and clear that I could see deep through the water, even from my seat beside Tom at the top of the boat. When the ferry ported near a less-crowded beach, we took advantage of the opportunity and walked to the shoreline. The water was cool, the sand soft, the sun just hot enough on our shoulders that it all evened out.
Lunch was a quick bite of food from a vendor as we bustled toward the center of town to explore the beautiful buildings we could find there. Dinner was far from our minds as we continued through the square, one foot in front of the other, laughs and only a few feet between Tom and me. It was nice. Really nice. Nice, France.
**
It was dark when Tom and I made it back to Cannes on the 9:00 train. The town was bustling even so as we passed by restaurants and a few bars on our way back to the center of town. I focused on walking straight, my eyes focusing on my feet, the street, and the air in front of me as we walked in silence.
I could just see my hotel, the canopy hanging over the door, when Tom cleared his throat next to me. I looked up, noticing that he had been watching me.
“I had a really good time today,” he said. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come along.”
I smiled, my lips pulling up in the corners. “Hey, it was no problem. I enjoyed the company. As great as traveling is, it can get kind of lonely, surrounding yourself with so much at one time by yourself.”
We were closer to the hotel now, just a building away. I moved a little closer to Tom, bumping his shoulder as I sidestepped a scooter that was parked half on the curb, half on the street.
Finally, at the door, we stopped. I turned back to Tom, thanking him for walking me to my hotel.
He smiled, reaching a hand back to ruffle the ends of his hair, the ones that had started curling at the nape of his neck. He started talking, clearing his throat again, “Um, well… that’s no problem. And thank you so much for today. I enjoyed it. I mean, I was just going to be spending this trip in my hotel room watching movies, or getting a drink at a bar. I didn’t have much going on, so… thank you.”
Maybe it was the drinks I had had at dinner, or the exhaustion I felt from such a busy day. I could only imagine that Tom felt the same way. That could explain why he would hold on a little too long as he hugged me goodbye, pulling me closer as he stretched his arms around me, hands spreading flat out across my back. That would also explain why it seemed like the hug lasted so long, felt so much more intimate than it probably was. It might also explain why just as Tom’s hands slid down around my back, leaving my body, that I reached up with my left hand, holding his cheek in one hand, while leaving one kiss on the skin of his other cheek.
That might explain it.
Or it might not.
I turned away from him, pulling at the door to the hotel. His voice brought me back as he called out to me, hands deep in his pockets. “Hey Katelyn… do you think maybe we can have breakfast in the morning?”
I nodded, swinging the door open wider and going inside.
“Good morning,” he said, standing when I was within a few feet. He was smiling still, as he stood, greeting me – I was surprised, as he reached forward, embracing me quickly in hello. I mumbled hello, good morning, somewhere between the initial shock of him hugging me and his cheek sliding against mine. He stepped back, releasing me, and pulled something from his back pocket – two small, rectangular pieces of paper, neutral in color with navy font. I looked from the paper, to Tom, to the paper again.
“I feel like I’m imposing,” he said, quietly, a pink creeping up his neck. “I honestly do, so I decided I would pay your train fare in return of your generous agreement to let me accompany you. I didn’t know… well, I-I’m not sure how you Americans are on things like that, so I made sure to arrive early so you wouldn’t have time to refuse.” He looked up, at me, and smiled again. He had been talking with his hands, the tickets fluttering between his fingers. He blinked twice, chuckling once, his smile growing even more. He looked down again, holding out one ticket. I took it, holding the paper between my index finger and thumb.
“Well, I’ll let you know that Americans love free stuff,” I said, tucking my ticket in my front pocket. I reached forward, catching Tom’s arm to check his watch for the time – we started toward the train, finding a seat on the right side, which fit fewer people than the left side, taking seats across from each other. I motioned toward his buttons, laughing when he blushed, chuckling, taking to buttoning his top correctly.
“So,” I said, as the train lurched, sending us forward, in Tom’s direction. We both watched on through the window, looking across at one another every few minutes. “Does this bring back memories? Like all those years boarding the train in September… the trolley witch bringing you sweets to buy and all of your mates joking around over Acid Pops? No? Oh…” My words were getting lost as I continued, my smile growing as I watched Tom’s eyes fall deeper and deeper, his gaze narrowing, that famous scowl falling over his features.
“Bite me,” Tom said, somewhere across from me as my eyes shut, my laughs shaking me. I couldn’t stop laughing as Tom continued to glower at me. I covered my mouth with my hand, taking a deep breath.
“You know, you’re really not helping yourself right now,” I told him, pulling my hand away from my lips. “You’ve got that world famous scowl going on. It’s so Draco-esque that I’m ready to crawl into the caboose of this train and die.”
To my amazement, Tom chuckled, his cheeks pinking up, before he turned his head back to the window. I did the same, crossing one of my legs over the other and setting my focus on the scenery as we passed. Fifteen minutes later, the train started to slow, before finally coming to a stop in Nice. Tom and I joined the groups bustling out of the cars, making our way out onto the platform.
Everything about Nice was fantastic. We sidestepped the beach, taking a Ferry out to sea. The water was so clean and clear that I could see deep through the water, even from my seat beside Tom at the top of the boat. When the ferry ported near a less-crowded beach, we took advantage of the opportunity and walked to the shoreline. The water was cool, the sand soft, the sun just hot enough on our shoulders that it all evened out.
Lunch was a quick bite of food from a vendor as we bustled toward the center of town to explore the beautiful buildings we could find there. Dinner was far from our minds as we continued through the square, one foot in front of the other, laughs and only a few feet between Tom and me. It was nice. Really nice. Nice, France.
**
It was dark when Tom and I made it back to Cannes on the 9:00 train. The town was bustling even so as we passed by restaurants and a few bars on our way back to the center of town. I focused on walking straight, my eyes focusing on my feet, the street, and the air in front of me as we walked in silence.
I could just see my hotel, the canopy hanging over the door, when Tom cleared his throat next to me. I looked up, noticing that he had been watching me.
“I had a really good time today,” he said. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come along.”
I smiled, my lips pulling up in the corners. “Hey, it was no problem. I enjoyed the company. As great as traveling is, it can get kind of lonely, surrounding yourself with so much at one time by yourself.”
We were closer to the hotel now, just a building away. I moved a little closer to Tom, bumping his shoulder as I sidestepped a scooter that was parked half on the curb, half on the street.
Finally, at the door, we stopped. I turned back to Tom, thanking him for walking me to my hotel.
He smiled, reaching a hand back to ruffle the ends of his hair, the ones that had started curling at the nape of his neck. He started talking, clearing his throat again, “Um, well… that’s no problem. And thank you so much for today. I enjoyed it. I mean, I was just going to be spending this trip in my hotel room watching movies, or getting a drink at a bar. I didn’t have much going on, so… thank you.”
Maybe it was the drinks I had had at dinner, or the exhaustion I felt from such a busy day. I could only imagine that Tom felt the same way. That could explain why he would hold on a little too long as he hugged me goodbye, pulling me closer as he stretched his arms around me, hands spreading flat out across my back. That would also explain why it seemed like the hug lasted so long, felt so much more intimate than it probably was. It might also explain why just as Tom’s hands slid down around my back, leaving my body, that I reached up with my left hand, holding his cheek in one hand, while leaving one kiss on the skin of his other cheek.
That might explain it.
Or it might not.
I turned away from him, pulling at the door to the hotel. His voice brought me back as he called out to me, hands deep in his pockets. “Hey Katelyn… do you think maybe we can have breakfast in the morning?”
I nodded, swinging the door open wider and going inside.