Train Tracks

1

It was never my fault that I got onto the wrong train at the station. It wasn't the fault of the guy who gave me the wrong information, either. I don't like blaming people for destiny- destiny is the only one I can ever really blame. (Come to think of it, I can't really blame destiny, either... it doesn't make the rules.) Besides, it was early in the morning... the man was probably tired and got the train numbers mixed up, so I'll cut him some slack. 

I mean, it could have been worse- my seat was first class, after all. I also had a book to read, since it'll be a while. And instead of going to visit my girlfriend's family with her in Louisiana, I am now on my way to New York City(also known as "The Big Apple"). I guess I should be mad, but really I'm kind of okay with it...I've always wanted to go to New York. Living in Florida has its moments, but most of the time it's just hot. Taylor (my girlfriend, in case you didn't know) can be a pain, sometimes, as well...maybe we would both be better off spending time apart for once. 

I didn't expect the train to be as beautiful inside as it was, but first class is more than I could've imagined. The train was set up so that in each individual train car there were 6 cubicles of seats (with curtains for privacy)- 3 cubicles to each side of the car and an isle down the center. Inside each cubicle there were six seats, set up so three seats were facing the other three seats. I sat in an empty cubicle and put my drawstring bag on the floor and the guitar across my back onto the seat next to mine. I personally liked sitting by the window, so I can see how fast the train moved against the wind.

My phone started to buzz in my pocket, and I knew for sure it was Taylor calling for the third time in a row. I groaned and took the phone out of my pocket, answering. "Hi, Taylor."

"Mitchell, I swear to God I thought you died...you didn't answer any of my calls!"

I wonder why. "Sorry, my phone was on silent. I have some bad news."

"What is it? And next time keep your phone on vibrate."

"The guy at the station accidentally gave me the wrong train number and now I'm on a train to New York..I'm sorry, I won't be able to get there on time."

"What the hell do you mean, 'wrong train'? You better get off at the next stop and buy another ticket or I swear to Go-"

"The next stop isn't until Pennsylvania." Lie. "I really wish I could be there." Lie. "I miss you, and I'll call you when I get off in a couple of hours." Lie, lie, lie... 

I could hear her groan on the other end of the line. "Fine, but you have to call. And keep your fucking phone on vibrate."

"Okay, bye." I hung up as quickly as possible and breathed deeply, trying not to get too stressed out. 

Taylor was the type of person who could be great to hang out with at one moment, and then an irritable pain the next. I guess you could also say I was lucky to date someone like her(most likely a 10 on the high school scale), considering my social status(a solid 7). She had everything- the blonde hair, the body, the hot butterfly tattoo on her right shoulder, etc., etc...God knows why she chose a 7 when she could've had another 10 or something. I mean, it's not that I'm that ugly or anything, but I could be better. Brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses don't really seem to mesh well with her crowd. I guess she is only interested in my guitar.

I decided to start reading to calm my nerves. I love to read, but I mostly only read Stephen King novels. Taylor hates Stephen King, but he's my favorite author.

20 minutes go by and then the train stopped. I hear people start to enter the train with the curtains rustling. I decided to wait until it reaches a stop in Pennsylvania to finally call Taylor again and leave the train to go to Louisiana. 

I saw the curtain to my cubicle open. A girl looked at me, and said, "I'm sorry, do you mind if I sit here?" She stood awkwardly at the curtain opening, using her finger to move some hair behind her ear.

"No, not at all." I completely forgot that I would have to sit with other people on the ride. Not that I minded...she looked very friendly. I just didn't realize until now.

She shuffled inside the space, closing the curtain behind her, sitting down at the window seat across from mine.  I noticed she carried an oxygen tank, with a thin tube connected to her nostrils. I tried not to stare, since that would seem rude. She filled the long silence and said, "It's CF."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Cystic Fibrosis," she cleared her throat, "That's why I have the tank." She looked down at her shoes.

"Oh..." I guess she caught me staring too long. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not," she smiled widely, her eyes sparkling. I took a closer look at her face, and saw she was very pretty. She had curly brown hair and blue eyes, with a small nose and glossed lips. "My name's Nina. Nina Smith." She held out her hand for me to shake.

"Mitchell Addison," I shook her hand and smiled back at her. "So, why are you on the train?"

"Well, um....well since I have CF my life expectancy is around 23 years, or so...I've always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty from the top of the Empire State Building in NYC, so I've beem saving up to go before..you know," Nina gave me a sad smile. "I mean, right now I'm only 18 and on the waiting list for a lung transplant, but that could take a long time."

"I really am sorry..." I didn't know what else to say to her.

"Well, I told you not to be. Pity is the last thing I want. Positivity is key." She smiled again, and I could only wonder how Nina Smith could stay so happy when her own body was killing her.

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