The Train To Nowhere

chapter 20 - the train

(One month later)

Mum woke me early on the morning of January 31st. We had to be at the station at eight to wait for the train to arrive, and it was at least five miles away. It was a dark and dreary morning; the sun hadn't even risen yet. I was so reluctant to get out of my warm bed, but the trip hung over me like damp clothes, weighing me down. The reason why I was being so nihilistic about the whole thing? Rosie was going on the trip too, and all my friends had found out one way or another how it was with her and me now, and nothing would change.

        "I'm coming!" I called down twenty minutes later, when I'd showered and dressed and finished packing my suitcase and rucksack. Zara was still asleep - lucky thing - but we needed to get in the car in ten minutes tops or we'd be late. I sighed, my eyes aching and my body and mind still half asleep, and then I took one last scan of my room. Everything was in order, for once, and I knew I wouldn't be back for two weeks. The sky was just starting to lighten up outside my window from dark blue to a shadowy grey, and I could see frost dusting the grass outside in swirls and beautifully natural patterns. I walked over to my bedroom door and looked around slowly, as if trying to memorise everything, and then shut it and left.

We got into the little red car and Mum drove me down our road and onto the motorway for our twenty-minute journey. I stared out at the nature and forests around, as amber lights from cars flashed over the road in the morning traffic. She was asking me how I was and questions about the trip while I half listened, half daydreamed, answering back plainly and simply.

        "Are you sure you're okay, Abel? I know you're not," she said, glancing across at me in the passenger seat. I didn't return eye contact and continued to stare out the window. "You've been like this all Christmas and January. You never come out of your room unless it's dinner, and you never speak to me."

        "I'm a teenager, Mum. Get used to it," I grumbled.

        "This isn't you. It's about Rosie, isn't it? I knew there was something more going on between you too."

When I didn't answer, she continued.

        "You love her, don't you? And she doesn't love you in the same way. She says she just thinks of you as just a friend, and maybe she does feel that way. But deep down, she does like you back." Suddenly my attention was fully focused on to what Mum was saying. She seemed to sense it too because she continued slowly and carefully, as if keeping me in suspense while she spoke. "Rosie's just scared of her own emotions, like you probably were when you started to realise you liked her more than you thought. She's just bottling them up and pushing them away because she's confused after what's happened to her. She doesn't have a regular figure in her life who she can show love to - only Dan when he comes to visit once a month. Her boyfriend dumped her a couple months ago, and she's only just got over him." Mum paused, allowing me time for a response, but then carried on. She was very wise.

        "You're naive to this at the moment, but over the years you learn quite a lot about people. And certain people like Rosie are much easier to read than you think when you get to my age. She loves you, sweetheart. She really does - I can see it. She doesn't know where to put her feelings. You just need to give her space to come to you, and once she realises how much she misses you, I can assure you she'll be talking to you again."

        "Really?" I muttered, my tone hopeful and small. For the first time since the basketball match, I felt a spark of hope inside me.

        "Really. Don't fret. I know you're heartbroken because of her, but you won't be for much longer. Either everything I'm saying is crap and she doesn't care about you - that I find less likely. Or, I'm the wisest mother there ever was."
I looked at Mum then, and she looked back at me, and I smiled at her - and she smiled back at me. In that moment, I was grateful for her advice and for her, and I felt warm and hopeful inside. It was new to my regular misery over the past month, and I revelled in it.