Read Last Train Home Online

Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell

Tags: #Young Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

Last Train Home (10 page)

BOOK: Last Train Home
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“My dismount was much more graceful,” I said
, smiling up at him.

“You’re a natural.”

We began walking along the edge of the pond.

“Don’t we need to tie up the
horses or something?” I asked.

“Nah.
  They’re not going anywhere,” he assured me and I turned to see Midnight and Pepsi had both started grazing and couldn’t be happier. 

“So what about brothers and sisters?
  Do you have any?” I asked, making chit-chat as we walked.

“Just an older brother
, Kyle.  He goes to KU.  What about you?”

“It’s just me,” I told him
and then we were quiet again. 

“Must be ni
ce.”  He let go of my hand and bent down and picked up a rock. He flung it into the pond and it skipped four times.

“Impressive,” I said
, bending down and picking up a rock myself. “How do you do it?”

He looked down at the rock I held in my hand and shook his head.  He reached over and took it from me.

“First of all, you need to start with a flat rock.  This one is way too round.  It’ll just sink to the bottom.”  He threw it into the pond and just as he’d said, it disappeared into the dark water.  We both bent down and began searching the ground

“How about this one?”
I said, holding up a small gray, and for the most part, flat rock.

“Much better,” he agreed.

“So now that I have the perfect rock, how do I get it to skip?”

He bent down and found a rock hims
elf and then stood beside me. 

“Flick your wrist to the side, like this,” he said as he demonstrated the motion a few times.  I copied him and he nodded in approval. “Then just flip it into the water.”  Again, the rock flew from his h
and and skipped across the pond.  “Now you try.”

I looked at him and smiled and then flicked the rock towards the water.  I was shocked to see it actually skip, maybe not four times like Alex’s, but it still skipped.

“Not bad,” he nodded.

“Thank you.  Are you blown away by my n
ovice rock skipping abilities?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

He took my hand again and we walked towards a large maple tree, sitting down near the edge of the water. 

“Do you bring many girls down
to your pond?” I asked.  I knew I was flirting shamelessly, but I didn’t care.

“Only the ones I like.”

He moved closer and then turned his body to face me.  His brown eyes looked into mine and he reached up and touched my cheek.  I prayed he wouldn’t tease me again.  I could feel us being pulled towards each other and soon our lips were only inches apart.  I wanted him to kiss me.  I couldn’t wait for him to kiss me, but just as he was about to, I pulled back.  I had to try and redeem myself from my earlier exuberance. 

“Hmm, so now you’re playi
ng hard to get?” he whispered.

“No.  Your breath smells,” I said and watched as Alex’s face curled up in horror.  I couldn’t help but burst out laughing
.  Once he realized I’d been kidding, an easy grin spread across his face.

“I didn’t realize you had such a sense of humor.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

I felt his
hand on the back of my head.  He pulled me gently to him and this time I didn’t pull back.  I smiled and closed my eyes and then he kissed me.  It was slow and tender and it felt amazing. 

“I’ve
been wanting to ask you something,” he said, his voice rugged and low a few moments later.

“What’s that?” I
asked as he took my hand again.

“Homecoming’s
coming up.  Go with me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“You don’t have
a date already?” I asked doubtfully, knowing where he stood in the hierarchy of Carver High. 

“I had decided I wasn’t going to
go…that is until you showed up.  So, whaddya say?”

“Yes,” I said
, not having to think twice about, but then thought maybe I’d answered too quickly and sounded too eager, even though I was.

“Alright…cool,” he said as he nodded confidently and then he slowly leaned in and kissed me again. “It’s getting
kinda dark out here.  You wanna go inside and watch TV or something?”

I nodded and he stood up and then reached his hand out to me and pulled me up.  We walked over to Pepsi and Midnight who were still grazing.  He helped me onto Pepsi again and once he was back on Midnight
, we headed back to the stables.  We put the saddles away and then we quickly brushed both horses as they munched on hay in their stalls.

When the horses were settled, we left the stables and I followed Alex to the sprawling porch in front of the big yellow house.  He opened the front door for me and a second later I was standing inside an elegant living room.  It didn’t seem to fit in in the
Carver I’d come to know in my short time here.  The wood floors were immaculate and I could tell they were fairly new.  Perfect leather couches sat on top of an expensive looking area rug and art work, that looked as if it belonged in an upscale New York gallery, hung on the walls.

“I
t’s even nicer on the inside,” I said as I looked around.

“Thanks,” he said as we walked through the living room into the kitchen, which looked like it belonged in a design magazine with its perfect white cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and granite countertops.  While my townhouse in Boston wasn’t as large as Alex’s house, it still reminded me of my house back home.  It was modern and stylish and it was a ray of light in the constant dinge of
Carver.

“Want
something to drink?”

“Sure,” I answered
while Alex walked over to the fancy French door refrigerator. 


I hope Coke’s okay,” he said, holding up two cans and then grabbed a bag of Ruffles and led me into the living room.  We sat on the couch and he flicked on the huge flat screen TV that hung over the fire place.  He turned it to MTV to an episode of
Jersey Shore
and I immediately started laughing as I recalled my encounter with Adrienne in the bathroom.

“What’s so funny?” he asked
, eyeing me curiously.

“I’m just thinking about my little conversation
in the bathroom with Adrienne.  She called me a guidette, like the bimbos on this show.  Do I look like those skanks?”

He started laughing too.

“No.  For the record, you don’t look a thing like them.  You look even trashier.”

I slugged him
on the arm and he smiled at me and then both of our heads turned when we heard the sound of the door swing open.

A man and a woman I assumed were Alex’s parents stood in the doorway.  They both looked between me and Alex and then the woman smiled. 

“What are you guys doing home?” Alex asked and I could tell by his voice he was not excited to see them.

“It’s nearly eight o’clock.  We said we’d be home this evening,” his father’s deep voice said and his mom began walking towards us.  She was short and slender, and not surprising, she had perfect blonde hair.  She was wearing tight jeans and a white blouse and even though I thought she was wearing too much make-up, she was pretty, and like her house, she didn’t seem to fit the mold of
Carver.

“Hello,” she said with a strong southern drawl, which I attributed to her growing up in Texas. “I’m Alex’s mom.”

“Hi, Mrs. Bettencourt,” I said, standing up and dusting the potato chip grease off my hands before shaking her hand.

“Please, call me Clarice,” and then she looked over to Alex. “I didn’t know you were having company.”

“This is Riley,” he said, standing up.

“Nice to meet you
, Riley,” Clarice said and then her husband, a tall man with short brown hair and the start of a pot belly, came and stood at her side.

“Hi, Mr
. Bettencourt,” I said and I waited for him to tell me to call him Joe, but he didn’t. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” Clarice said
, looking me over.


I just moved here from Boston.”

“Boston!” she
exclaimed. “What brings you to Kansas?”

“My mom’s from here.  I think you know her,” I said
, turning to Mr. Bettencourt. “Liz Smollet?”

I saw the name rang a bell by the look on his fac
e.  He was eyeing me curiously.

“Lizzie
Smollet’s your mom?”

“Yeah.
  Well, she’s Liz Regas now.”

“I never would’ve guessed.  Yo
u don’t look a thing like her.”

“I take after my dad.”

“I remember she left right after high school. What brings your family back?”

“Well,” I began hesitantly. “My p
arents got divorced last year.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Clarice said as she patted my arm.  I’d never met a true southerner and she was exuding the stereotype. 

“It’s okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t.  I had come to grips with the fact that my parents no longer loved each other, but their divorce had downright destroyed my life when she’d moved me to Carver. 

“Where are you guys
living?” Mr. Bettencourt asked.

“We live with
my grandma, over on H Street.”

He nodded towards me.
“Same house as when we were in school.  Tell your mother I said hello.”

“I will
,” I said and then I felt Alex’s hand on my arm.

“Can we finish our show
now?” he asked, staring at his parents.

“Of course.
  We didn’t mean to interrupt.  C’mon, Joe.”  Clarice took Mr. Bettencourt’s arm and they disappeared up the stairs.

Alex and I returned to the couch and he
rolled his eyes at me.

“Sorry about that.  They really weren’t supposed to
be home till later.”

“They were nice.”

“They were just putting on a show for you.  Believe me, once you leave, Mom’ll open the scotch and Dad’ll be chatting with one of his girlfriends.”

“What?” I asked
, nearly choking on my Coke.

“Oh yeah.
  You never would’ve guessed, would you?”

“Are you serious o
r are you just trying to shock me?”

“I’m serious
.  I told you my dad’s a dick.” He didn’t seem emotional.  It was like he had resigned himself to the fact that his mother was an alcoholic and his father was a womanizer. 

“I’m sorry,” I said to him and I really was.  At the same time though, it felt good to know my family wasn’t the only one that was screwed up.

“It’s fine.  I don’t really care.  They’re so consumed with their drama, they pretty much leave me alone.”

“If only I could be that lucky.  I wish my mom would find something to occupy her time and get off my back,” I laughed as I leaned back
against the couch.  Alex reclined next to me and then started laughing.

“Maybe I can
hook your mom up with my dad.”

“You’re terrible!” I exclaimed and slugged him on the arm and then I started laughing too.

“I am, aren’t I?”

H
e reached over and pulled me to him, kissing me.  My family was screwed up, my life was screwed up, but I felt a little bit better hanging out with someone who seemed as screwed up as me.

 

****

 

Just as planned, I got home right before curfew.  I’d stayed at Alex’s and we’d watched TV and talked all night.  And he was right; his parents pretty much left us alone.  I chuckled to myself though when Clarice came down and grabbed a glass of booze while taking some clothes up from the laundry room.  I pretended not to notice and she’d smiled innocently and apologized for disturbing us.  Alex nudged me though and we smiled at each other knowingly.  I hadn’t wanted to say goodnight, but I knew I couldn’t break curfew.  I had to be on my best behavior.  I couldn’t give my mom an excuse to try and set me straight and keep me from seeing Alex. 

He’d dropped me off and kissed me again before I ran up to the front door.  I turned and smiled and waved to him before I pulled out my keys and unlock
ed it.

The house was dark, but I could see the light was still on in my mom’s bedroom.  She must be reading.  She always read before she went to sleep.  She said it helped her relax, but I knew tonight she was using it to keep herself occupied while she waited for me to get home.  I saw the light turn off the second I shut the door.  I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I didn’t have to talk to her. 

I walked upstairs, making sure to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake up my grandmother.  I nearly jumped out of my skin though when my cell phone beeped, breaking the silence when I was half way up the stairs.  I reached into my bag and fumbled inside until I found it and pulled it out.  It was a text message from Alex.
Miss you already.
  I felt myself grinning stupidly as I typed back
Me too. 
I put the phone back in my bag and trotted happily upstairs.  I stopped for a moment outside my door and looked towards my mother’s room.  I was mad at her, but maybe I shouldn’t be.  If she hadn’t brought me here, I wouldn’t have met Alex.

BOOK: Last Train Home
13.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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