TRAIN [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 8: Doppelgänger

                  

The door closed behind me with a thud; it was the sound of my friendship with Emma as it crumbled to a dust. Would she have acted differently had I shown her the map that Abba had made, the wound in my side, a video – if I had one – of Abba's constant lunatic expressions?

I had barely reached the staircase before I dropped to my knees and cried harder. My chest was clenched tighter than my fists. I felt radioactive, hotter than an engine. Emma was the only person in the world who liked me for who I was, even as a bratty kid with mutinous makeshift highlights in her hair. Had I truly lost her? Was it 'selfish' for me to want to stay as far away from Abba as possible? Anyway, it didn't matter; I knew I'd have to join her sooner or later – for America's sake, sooner.

Stefan called me from the bottom of the stairs. I had somehow managed to crawl my way to the top step, where I was sitting. He trotted upstairs hurriedly, as though his cast was only a prop. He sat next to me and stroked my upper back with his warm right hand.

"I heard you and Emma..."

"I'm okay," I said, a common lie, and I wasn't very convincing with my puffy red eyes.

It didn't take Stefan long to realise how much I needed a hug; his arms strapped around mine like a fitted coat. In his embrace, my tears ceased.

"Let's leave," I sniffled quietly. "Emma wants us... wants me to leave."

Stefan nodded. He didn't ask questions, and I was grateful for that. He stood me up slowly and we descended the stairs, and then informed Uncle Jake of our departure.

"So soon, are you sure?" he turned off the TV.

"Emma's really tired so..."

"And look at you, you're exhausted!"

He came up to me, but I couldn't look him in the eyes. The last thing that I wanted was for him to see me like that.

"Yeah, I am. So, I'm gonna go," I swiftly turned around and Stefan and I made our way to the door, but I stopped when my guilty conscience reminded me of my manners. "Have a good afternoon, Uncle Jake."

"You, too, Aimee," he was still pondering my abrupt behaviour.

Stefan gave him a parting smile and we were on our way. It was still light outside, but it could only have been three o' clock at the latest. The sun glared above the house. I took my phone out of my pocket and had to shield it from the sunlight as I unlocked the screen. No messages.

Stefan came up behind me and swiped my phone from my hands, "Hey, I thought you weren't gonna worry."

"I'm not... I won't, I just..." I wondered then if any of my sentences would reach a period.

Stefan watched me as we stood, almost as though he was analysing me. Finally, he whispered, "You really should get some rest. I'll drive you home."

He was right; I wanted to train, but I was too tired to even argue with him. I hadn't had much sleep the previous night. I convinced myself that sleep was all I needed, but my chest still felt constricted. I took Stefan's hand as we walked to his car. I didn't ask him to return my phone; no one was gonna call, but he gave it to me anyway. Then, he dug his car keys out of his pocket and opened my door. I got in, and he swung it closed behind me before climbing in on the other side. And so he drove me home.

Emma doesn't live very far from us. My house soon grew on the roadside until we pulled onto the driveway. When without warning, our muscles tensed and our eyes widened in unison. There was a car in the driveway, one that neither of us recognised.