Chapter Eleven

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Okey doke. Here’s chapter number whatever I’m on, I’ve forgotten… So, I’m wondering, who’s you guys’ favorite character??? Why don’t you comment and tell me? Maybe it’s a little early in the story… oh well, do it anyway!

 Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Eleven

♥            Astrid         ♥

            I was too tense to relax… plus, the feeling of having Pierre sitting next to me – holding my hand – was enough to make any girl feel jumpy. So I tried to concentrate on something other than the scent of Pierre – like Charlie, who looked strangely grumpy, or Josh, who was looking around in a seemingly casual manner, but in a way so that I could tell he was as tense as I was.

            Was Jay in one of those cars? Had he been in the one that had smashed against the highway wall? Part of me hoped he had been – but the other part, the younger, more innocent, hopeful part prayed that he hadn’t. Because maybe, somehow, we might just… But I pushed those thoughts away. Jay probably didn’t even remember me anymore. What was I to him?

            Nothing.

            If I had been anything more, he wouldn’t have left.

            Now I was trying to concentrate on Pierre. Struggling to keep Jay out of my mind, I reminded myself that I now had Pierre, and I did not need Jay. Still, the memory of his blue eyes was so much different than that of Pierre’s green ones, as beautiful as they were. And the light hair, flopping in front of his eyes as he laughed…

            I seriously needed to get over this.

            “So,” I began, in an attempt to make conversation – anything to keep my whirlwind thoughts to myself.

            Charlie and Josh looked at me, raising their eyebrows in similar expressions of expectation and amusement. I suddenly found that I had nothing to say. “Nice… um… choice, Josh,” I said weakly. “The train, I mean.”

            Josh snorted with laughter, turning away from me quickly. I glared at his back, having the slightest notion of what he was laughing at – I had a suspicion that it had something to do with the way Pierre was holding my hand. Charlie merely kept looking at me with an unreadable expression. He was holding his wounded arm, seemingly unconsciously; it was obviously hurting again.

            I gave up all efforts of a conversation, and instead gazed around the compartment, taking in the other people. A young man and woman were sitting a little ways away from us, holding hands like me and Pierre. I noticed an engagement ring glistening on her finger… but that brought up thoughts I didn’t want to think about right now.

            In the far right corner was an elderly lady, hidden behind a French fashion magazine. All that could be seen of her was a heavily feathered hat. Hiding a smile, I looked to the left corner, where a middle aged man was sitting with a briefcase and laptop, typing something and frowning at the screen.

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