The Unspoken Truth

Chapter Four [Edited]

CHAPTER FOUR

Cassie's POV

        The train station is noisy even though the next train is not to head out for another hour. I lean back on the bench and inhale, breathing in the smell of cigarettes. The scent reminds me of my father when I was growing up, he would sit on the back porch and smoke long into the night. Sometimes, he didn't even stop for dinner. I shiver at the horrible memory of the lonely nights at the table with my mother and brother. Nights when all we had for dinner was a couple dinner rolls and a glass of milk. I push the thoughts away and focus on the present, I look around the station, desperate for something to keep me from thinking of my father.

        My eyes drift to the newspaper stand at the end of the bench. I reach over and pull a newspaper from the abandoned rack. York Gazette is written in bold, brilliant letters across the top. I sigh and open the paper. Inside is a written piece about the pollution in oceans around the world. I skim the article, cringing as the author attempts to convince the reader to help stop pollution. I huff and throw the newspaper to the floor in frustration.

        "Did the paper bite you?" A voice comes from the lips of the boy standing above me. His hair is dark brown with eyes to match. I glance at the newspaper I had just thrown on the floor.

        "Yeah, it hurt bad too," I said. When he laughed, his eyes crinkled up, highlighting the deep color of them. "It's not that funny."

        "Should I call an ambulance?"

        "You're hilarious," I say sarcasticly, not even cracking a smile. I pick up the newspaper and walk it over to the trash can. When I sit on the bench, he plops down next to me. "What's your name?" I ask him.

        "Mason," he said.

        "Sounds like a spice," I say.

        "What's your name?" Mason asked me.

        "Cassie."

        "You mean Cassandra."

        "No, I mean Cassie," I say firmly. We're quiet then. Listening to the rustle of the leaves as they sweep across the stained concrete in the dimming light of late afternoon. A colorful sunset is forming on the horizon. Everything seems still, even though just seconds ago I felt lost in the constant current of life. People are unloading from buses and trains, not making as much noise as you'd expect them to. The air is heavy on our shoulders as we stare ahead at the road. It seems endless, miles and miles of nothing but tall buildings and concrete. The day holds the kind of beauty you can only see if you've grown up on the city streets.

        He looks over at me finally, "Are you hungry?" I nod silently without looking at him. He stands up and holds out his hand, "Come on."

        I glance at his hand, then back at him. "Where are we going?"

        "Don't know yet. We'll know when we get there." I reluctantly take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. His hand drops and he awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

        "You don't have to."

        "I don't have to what?" he asks.

        "You don't have to take me with you. I can stay here."

        "Suit yourself." He struts away in a sinister, sulking fashion. I sigh and walk in the other direction. The sun is lower now, sitting on a hill that doesn't seem far away but I know it would take me forever to walk there. I groan as I accidently take the street with the York Gazette newspaper place on it. I feel like getting them back, every single person in that little building. Closing my eyes, I stand in front of it and imagine the people who work there. Selfish, arrogant, filthy people. People who are living my dream. I huff and sit on a bench outside the office positioned in the perfect place for moping. I glare at the people passing by, trying to channel all my anger into scowls.

        "What's the matter?" A voice says.

        I don't even need to look up to know who it is. "Why do you keep following me everywhere Mason?"

        "Because I think your interesting."

        "Thanks," I mumble. I rest my chin in my hands as the sun slips behind the hill. Mason leans back on the bench and exhales loudly.

        "I didn't get the job," I said.

        "At this company? You don't want a job at this company," he said, standing up.

        "Why not?"

        "The management is terrible and you get paid only fifteen bucks per article."

        "How would you know that?" I asked, standing up to face him. Mason ignores the question and walks away, the new evening sending dark shadows sliding across his figure. "Hey!" I called, running after him. "Where are you going?"

        "Somewhere else. You're boring me." I catch up to him finally but struggle to match his long strides as we walk up the street. "All you do is complain. Newspaper companies, newspapers biting you, my name sounding like a spice... Complain, complain, complain." He stops suddenly and turns to face me, a confused look on his face. "What's your problem anyway?"

        "Everyone has issues," I say, shrugging off his question and turning back to look at the snake of road ahead. He lets it go and continues walking, at a quicker pace than before. "Do you have somewhere you need to urgently be right now?"

        "No."

        "Then why are we walking so fast?"

        "I am trying to ditch you," he says harshly.

        "You said I was interesting." I point out.

        "You are. You remind me of..." he said something else, but a train rushed by us at the same time and I didn't quite hear it.

        "What did you say?"

        "I said 'you are,'" he said.

        "After that."

        "I didn't say anything after that." I squinted at him until he grew uncomfortable. "Will you please stop squinting at me?" 

        I ignore him and continue to squint. His brown eyes scrunch up into a squint and he smiles back at me. The wind blows, making me shiver, but I don't dare move as not to ruin the squinting contest we seem to be engaged in. He stopped after a moment and his smile grew wider, his eyes shifted above me. I gave up squinting and looked behind me. A brunette girl with animated blue eyes stood there smiling. Mason kisses her forehead and pulls her into a hug. They tear away from each other as I look up in curiosity. "Oh, err, Cassie this is Heather. My girlfriend," Mason said. I raise my eyebrows and size up the girl.

        "Nice to meet you. I'm Cassie," I dust off my coat. "I'll, uh, leave you to it then." Heather nods enthusiastically, linking her arm with Mason's. My back warms, her eyes shooting daggers into it as I walk away. I can't help hating Heather, for nothing more than her being Mason's girlfriend. I stuff my hands into my pockets hoping to push some of the jealously down into them. The leaves crumple under my feet even though it is already late January. The sun had gone to bed, covering the world in a dreary blanket. I look up at the sky, remembering Girl Scout days when we would lay under the stars at night. We'd listen to the troop leader tell us myths we were foolish enough to believe. It was a different time then. A simpler time, when things didn't get to be so complicated.