Irresistible

SEVENTEEN

I settle into the train seat, heading to Rhode Island for Thanksgiving. It's a long journey ahead, so I make myself as comfortable as I can.

Currently, I'm dominating in Game Pigeon, as usual, in my group chat with Brooke and Elijah. They never stand a chance against me, and today is no different.

Brooke: ugh stop winning

Elijah: for fucking real

Me: you guys just suck 😂

Elijah: suck what?

Brooke: 🖕🏼

Elijah: yall i on my fifvth pinaaa colidaa

Yep, I can't help but envy Elijah, lounging drunk on a beach while I endure this five hour train ride to spend an awkward and depressing Thanksgiving with my parents.

Me: i wish

Brooke: same, i gotta go help my mom w lunch but love yous!

Elijah: love uuuuuuuuuuu

Me: love ya!

After sending the last text, I unconsciously swipe into Sage's chat, repeatedly rereading the last text she sent me.

Have a good time in Rhode Island beautiful. I can't wait to see you when you're back.

After lunch that day, Sage dropped me off at home, and we may or may not have made out in the car for like 20 minutes.

Since then, we've been texting, getting to know each other better. I can't deny how much I like her, more than anyone before. I find myself eagerly counting down the days until I can see her again.

Shaking off the lingering thoughts of Sage, I immerse myself in the pages of a book, the words transporting me to another world.

As the train journey continues, I also dedicate time to catching up on school work, the rhythmic clacking of the tracks providing a steady backdrop to my concentration.

Eventually, the train pulls into Newport, Rhode Island, my hometown. The air feels familiar, tinged with memories of childhood adventures and lazy summer days.

It's a smaller town, not much to do, which is why I'm only staying for a few days after Thanksgiving, with was in two days.

Taking my luggage, I step out of the train station and pull out my phone to call an Uber. It's not surprising that my parents are too busy with work to pick me up. It's become the norm over the years.

Soon enough, I was thanking the driver and making my way up the familiar path to my childhood home.

It's a beautiful brick colonial-style house with charming shutters, the same one I lived in for eighteen years.

Opening the front door with the spare key hidden under the mat, I step into the foyer and I'm greeted by the usual silence. The house is eerily pristine, as if untouched by anyone.

As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I hadn't been here in ages, but when I opened the door, everything looked just like I remembered.

My eyes sweep over the familiar sight before me. The wooden bed, adorned with the same bedding, sits in the middle of the room, just as it always has.

The walls were painted a light blue, and above the bed, a Taylor Swift "Speak Now" poster was displayed. Clutter from my childhood still lingers around the room, items I never took with me to college.

Being here brought back memories, some good, some not so much. I remembered feeling lonely a lot, especially after Jace left.

Too often, I found myself wishing my parents would make time for me, instead of leaving me in the care of nannies. I can't help but confront the ache of my childhood loneliness, a wound that still hasn't fully healed.