Part 4: Closer To Home

by Margaret Iuni

Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Straya

“I’m sorry, did you not want to leave?” I rolled my eyes, holding the door open for Rebecca. “You’re the one who’s been saying for two weeks you have a plane to catch.” It was December 23rd and most of the school was buzzing with students finishing finals and packing bags that should have been packed way earlier. The semester had been long and the New York winter was cruel, but a big part of me didn’t want to leave my new city. The rest of me was dying to get home to Hippa and my parents. And Tod. My other high school friends had seemingly fallen off of the planet, but I was excited to see them again over break.

“Bye.” Rebecca flounced out of the room, suitcase behind her. My patience with her had already dwindled to the point of nonexistence, but I mustered up enough strength to wait until she cleared the door completely before closing it behind her. I had three hours to kill before I needed to leave for my train. My bags were already packed and I had taken my last final in the morning. I checked my phone. Three missed phone calls from mom and a text from Tod. Did I mention I’m taking a train to New York? To then leave on another train? Which is coincidentally the same one you’re on? Cheapest way home, you know. The message was received twenty minutes ago.

What time are you getting in? I texted back, tying up my hair and throwing on a sweatshirt.

Tod

If it had been anyone else, I would’ve had to plan weeks in advance to attempt to get the same train home. We would’ve debated train prices and times and been miserable. Straya and I actually did coincidentally book the same train home, I just didn’t tell her after she told me she’d booked the 5 o’clock out of Grand Central that I had, too. I figured it’s more fun to have a surprise companion to get back to our miserable hometown.

I’ll be at Grand Central Station in an hour. I had no real plan for all the time in between my trains except a book. See you in three? My eyes scanned the top of the third page when my phone buzzed with a response.

Don’t be an idiot. See you in an hour. She was much more interesting than the book was turning out to be, anyway.

Straya

It had been a few months since the last time I saw Tod. We talked pretty frequently, at least three times a week, but I still hadn’t gone to visit. He filled me in on everything college should be and I filled him in on everything a real city is. I don’t think either of us regretted our decisions. As much as we harassed each other, he was actually happy in his city, and I was fairly happy at my college. I looked up from picking at my nails to check the clock for what felt like the hundredth time when I felt someone gently place their hands around my eyes.

“Weirdo, you didn’t have to come here this early. Now we both have nothing to do for a few hours.” I reached behind me and patted his face as my other hand pushed his away.

“Weirdo, if you had told me you were coming, we could’ve planned something,” I shot back, twisting around so I could finally see him. College had clearly been treating him well. He looked good. I hadn’t moved, but I already felt closer to home.

“I’ve heard Grand Central can be fun to explore,” he shrugged. I shook my head and sighed, pulling out my most annoyed face.

“Damn tourists,” I crossed my arms.

Tod

She played the role well. If I didn’t know any better, I might’ve guessed she was from New York, the way she was sitting here like she owned the place, staring down obnoxiously loud high schoolers and rude businessmen alike. I did know better, though. We walked around the station, taking in vendors and artwork and talking as if we’d known each other our whole lives.

“So, how were your finals?” I asked, pushing past a group of nuns.

“I have only one word for them,” she said, pushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, “No.” I laughed.

“Yeah, I’d have to agree with that assessment,” I had finished my last test twenty minutes before my train boarded. My hand was still cramped from the essay-writing portion. A group of thirty ten year olds was approaching the store window that Straya and I were standing in front of, so we silently nodded and decided to move on. Wandering aimlessly with suitcases was harder than I thought. As I was about to suggest finding somewhere to sit and eat, one of my wheels caught on a briefcase strap.

Straya

Rule 457: Do NOT stop walking in the flow of pedestrian traffic in NYC for any reason. The kid walking behind Tod bumped right into him, which sent him stumbling into a middle aged woman holding a cell phone and paying him no attention. He tried to excuse himself and back up, but tripped over his suitcase, and hit the floor. Briefcase man pulled himself free and continued on, leaving Tod looking like an upside down turtle. I crouched down to offer him a hand, but wasn’t much support since I couldn’t stop laughing.

Instead, his effort to stand pushed me down to the floor and then the both of us were laughing. The rest of Grand Central was judging us, but we, as two mentally fried college students coming out of finals week, couldn’t care. Tod finally pulled himself up after a minute and lifted me from the floor fast enough that I had to lean into him to keep from falling again. I looked up at his face, still red with embarrassment and laughter, and forgot to breathe. I looked away and pulled out from his arm slowly.

“Well, that was interesting,” I could feel his stare as I picked up my suitcase.

“That’s one word for it,” Tod snorted, running his hand through his hair. We accidentally made eye contact, which we were both trying desperately to avoid, and awkwardly looked away again. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “Dinner?”