Tracking Logan Foster

{7} Everything Falls

I didn't have a way to tell how long we sat there with his hand in mine, just staring out of the train car as it zoomed across the barren landscape. I also had no idea where we were, but that was merely insignificant to what was going on.

My stomach growled, rumbling as it starved from the lack of food for over a day. Logan glanced down at my hand over my stomach before looking into my eyes.

My heart hammered in my chest as I felt my face redden when an unusual thought occurred to me. Logan Foster could actually be very attractive if it weren't for the haunting dark circles under his red eyes or the baggy clothes he wore as if he thought he could hide away inside them. Long eyelashes fanned over high cheekbones aligned by a sharp jawline. How had I never noticed him before?

Breaking eye contact, Logan cleared his throat by coughing into his fist and he stood up, disentangling his hand from mine as he did so. The lack of warmth that his hand had been providing mine with immediately made me shiver.

"We need to get off soon," he said, "We need food, water, and someplace warm or else you'll get sick." I noticed how he said I would get sick, completely disregarding his own needs. It was as if he wanted to get off of the train for my sake instead of his.

I knew if it were up to him, he'd stay on the train until he either made it to the end or died.

I nodded, standing up beside him as the wind tossed our hair every which way.

As if the train heard our conversation and wanted to aid us, it started to slow down until it came to a complete stop at another resting place.

This one was much larger with a building the size of a small mall right outside of the tracks. I bundled myself deeper in Logan's leather jacket as he rolled down the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The cold seeped through my bones, causing my teeth to chatter.

After waiting a few minutes to be certain that the coast was clear, Logan hopped out of our train cart before reaching a hand up to me. I grabbed it as he maneuvered his hands under my armpits to help me off of the high platform.

"Thanks," I mumbled earning a grunt from him in return.

He headed straight for the glass doors of the cream colored building, knowing I'd follow behind him.

"Wait," I hushed as we reached the doors, "We don't have any money."

He bit his lip, unsure if he should say something. I narrowed my eyebrows at him, silently commanding him to speak.

"Listen, I'm not proud of it, but I'm very good at pick-pocketing. Like I said; I used to get in a lot of trouble," he said, staring straight ahead into the store.

I didn't know what to say to that. We were hundreds of miles away from home, no one would recognize us, and we didn't have much of a choice.

I nodded and he turned around, determinedly striding through the automatic doors as I followed a few steps behind.

Warmth blasted through vents, finally evaporating the coldness that I had begun to suspect would never leave my bones.

To our right, a line of fast food restaurants were set up with bustling customers shouting their orders over the roar of the crowd. Further down, towards the end of the restaurants, were the bathrooms.

Logan and I shot a look at each other and made a beeline to the restrooms, earning a few curses from travelers as we nearly rammed into them. We headed our separate ways into our gender respective bathrooms and told each other to wait at the McDonald's.