Read Last Train Home Online

Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell

Tags: #Young Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

Last Train Home (11 page)

BOOK: Last Train Home
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Chapter Eleven

“How’d the cheesecake turn out?” I asked the next day.  I hadn’t woken up until nearly ten o’clock.  I’d puttered around upstairs for a while and was now sitting at the counter eating a piece of the leftover chicken parmesan.  My mom had walked in to put a glass in the sink.  At the sound of my voice, she stopped and looked at me.  After a brief pause, she continued to the sink and set her glass down.  She had a strange expression on her face, like she couldn’t believe I’d actually initiated a conversation.  I hadn’t done that since before she told me we were moving to Carver. 

“There isn’t any left
if that’s what you’re getting at,” she replied suspiciously.

“I figured it’d be gone.  I just wanted to see how it turned out.”

“It was good.  David had three pieces.”

I could tell she was still confused by my sudden agreeable tone.  I couldn’t blame her though.  For the past month I’d treated her like an enemy, but for some reason, I was happy this morning and I didn’t have the energy to pick a fight.

“How was your date with Alex?” she asked as she sat down next to me.  I knew she couldn’t resist talking now that I’d opened the door. 

“It was fun.”

“And how’d the horseback riding go?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was
pretty good at it.  Why is everyone so surprised that I’d actually go horseback riding?”

“I’m not surprised you’d try it.  You just never had the opportunity back in Boston.”

“No, I didn’t, but it was fun,” I said and then paused as I looked at her. “And…I met your old boyfriend,” I smirked.

“Excuse me?”

“Joe Bettencourt, Alex’s dad.”

“Joe was
not
my boyfriend.  We went out a couple of times, that’s all.”

“And why was that?”

“Because I realized after the third date he was a jerk.  I just hope his son doesn’t take after him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say he was only interested in one thing.”

“Don’t say anything,” I said
, lowering my voice. “But according to Alex, it sounds like he hasn’t changed much.”


Interesting,” was all she said.

“Alex isn’t anything like his dad though,” and then I turned and smiled at her. “He asked me to homecoming last night.”

“Oh yeah?  He’s cute,” she said, reaching over and nudging me playfully on the arm.  I’d missed talking to her and this was nice.

“Yeah, he is,” I said and I could feel my cheeks blush. “Is there anywhere to shop for homecoming dresses in this town?”

“We’ll have to take a trip to Wichita for that,” she said and I wasn’t surprised by her answer.  The only store in town was Wal-Mart and I was definitely not going to get my homecoming dress there. “Now, what about this Jesse kid that’s coming over?”

“He’s just a friend.  We have a couple of classes together and we eat lunch together.  We have to do a report on the second amendment for our Constitution class.  That’s why he’s coming
over,” I said, taking the last bite of my chicken parmesan and then standing up to rinse off my plate. “Speaking of which, he’ll be here soon so I’d better get ready.”

I didn’t wait for her to say anything else.  I left my plate in the sink and went upstairs.  Luckily the bathroom was free.  We were still learning how to function with three people sharing one bathroom, but so far there hadn’t been any major catastrophes.  I took a quick shower and then changed into a pair of old jeans and a fitted pink t-shirt.  I dried my hair and ran a flat iron over it to tame the
flyaways, which were plentiful today, due to the humidity.  I threw on a little make-up and went back to my room to wait.  I turned on the radio to one of the bazillion country stations, figuring I’d try to acclimate myself to this new place.  Alex had obviously been unimpressed that my knowledge of country music was limited to Taylor Swift and the occasional Faith Hill crossover hit. 

I flipped open my Constitution book to the chapter on the second amendment and began skimming through it, trying to find
what angle we’d take for the project.  There was a knock on my door and I looked up to see my mom standing in the doorway.

“I forgot to tell you, the internet’s hooked up.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “That’s fabulous!”

She walked away and I rushed over to my laptop.  I turned it on and waited impatiently for it to load up.  It seemed to take forever, but I finally saw the picture of the Boston skyline I’d set as my desktop appear on the screen.  I went to the settings and found the internet connection.  I almost jumped up and shouted with joy when I clicked on the internet icon and the Yahoo homepage appeared.  I’d been able to check my email and update my Facebook page on my phone, but it was a pain and I was ecstatic to finally have internet freedom again, not to mention it would make working on our project much easier.

I was looking through some new pictures Natasha had posted on Facebook and missing everyone back home when I heard the doorbell.  I looked to the lower right corner of my computer and saw that it was five after one.  It had to be Jesse.  I got up and trotted downstairs to see him standing at the door.

“Hi, come in,” I told him.

“Hey, Boston,” he said, brushing past me and I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh right, you don’t like that.  Let me rephrase.  Hello, Riley.”

“Thank you.”

My mom walked in then.


You must be Jesse.”


I am,” he said, smiling.

“Je
sse, this is my mom,” I told him and was suddenly annoyed at her again, our earlier conversation completely erased from my mind.

“Hi
, Mrs. Regas.”

“We’re going to go work on our project up in my room.
C’mon, Jesse.”  I took his arm and we walked past my mom towards the stairs.

“Leave the door open,” she whispered as w
e walked by.


Gimme a break, Mom,” I whispered back and then led Jesse upstairs. 

We walked into my room and Jesse shut the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m shutting the door so I can have my way with you,” he said
, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” I sa
id and he opened the door again. 

“You have the worst sense of humor.  You need to lighten up,” he said as he walked over and sat down on my bed, his books landing with a bounce beside him as they spilled and fanned out like a deck of cards.

“Sorry.  Your joke was very funny,” I mocked.

He laughed at my sarcasm and I sat down on the folding chair I was using for my desk. 

“So, where should we begin?” I asked, turning to my computer. 

We worked for a while and created a decent outline for our project
, before taking a break after about an hour.  Jesse stacked his books on the floor and I closed my laptop.  I turned to look at him and he was smirking at me with his typical playful grin.


What’s that look for?” I asked him.

“I’m just waiting in giddy anticipation for you to tell me about your latest date with Alex.”

“Seriously, Jesse?” I said, rolling my eyes once again.

“C’mon.  Don’t hide the details.  Do tell,” he said in a perfect imitation of Mandy.

“You are worse than Mandy, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. 
But seriously, how’d it go?”

“We had fun.”

“I’m glad to see you survived the horseback riding.”

“I more than survived.  I was actually pretty good.  You would’ve been impressed,” I told him and then turned excitedly to him. “He asked me to Homecoming.”

“What’d you say?”

“Well, duh.  What do you think I said?”

“Yeah, that was a stupid question,” he said more to himself than to me.

“I didn’t expect him to ask me.  I hadn’t even thought about it.  Are you going?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Why don’t you
wanna go?” I asked as I sat next to him.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to go.  I just haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, I think you should go.  It might be fun.”

“I’ll see.”

We were quiet for a second and my eyes began drifting around the drab room.

“Man, I hate this room.  It’s like an old woman decorated a prison cell,” I blurted out.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but it is pretty lame.”

“T
hanks for your support,” I said, elbowing him.

“Why don’t you paint
it or something?”

“I should,” I said
, trying to imagine the dingy walls painted an actual color.

“I could help,” he offered.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” I asked him again.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“That would be great.”

“We could start next weekend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.
  Why do you seem so surprised that I’d help?”

“I don’t know.  I mean, you hardly know me.”

“I know you well enough to help you paint your room.  It’s not like you’re asking for my kidney.  We’re friends.”

I smiled and realized he was right.  We were friends.

“Just make sure you pencil me in before you and Alex make plans.”


I think I can shuffle things around so I can fit you in on Saturday morning.” He just laughed. “Should we go pick out paint colors one day after school this week?”

“Yeah.
  We’ll go to the hardware store downtown, so decide what color you want.”

“What color do you think I should go with?” I asked him, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know.  It’s your room, not mine.”

“I should do something really bright and obnoxious
to tick off my mom.”

“Why would you
wanna do that?”

“To get back at her,” I
said, scootching further onto the bed so I was leaning against the wall.  Jesse did the same.

“For what?
  Your mom didn’t seem bad.”

“Well, she can be.  She moved me here, didn’t she?”

“You act like she moved you to Hell or something.”

“Hell…
Carver…not much of a difference,” I laughed, but when I looked at him, he didn’t look like he thought it funny. “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend.”

“None
taken.  I just want you to know it’s really not that bad here.  I know it’s not Boston, but if you’d just let your guard down a bit and give it a try, you might like it, a little bit anyway.  And if you don’t, there’s always Boston.” I just looked at him with a frown and he nudged me. “C’mon.  You can’t tell me it’s been unbearable.  You’ve got friends and you’re going out with Alex Bettencourt.  Hell, I’m a guy and even I know that’s a big deal.  Not bad for a few weeks in.  So, I guess you really can’t be too mad at your mom.  I mean, if she hadn’t moved you here, you never would’ve met Alex,” he said and nudged me.

I knew he was right.  When I moved here, everyone could’ve treated me like Adrienne.  I could’ve been shunned. I could’ve been banished to the outer darkness of
Carver High.  That didn’t happen though.  I tried reversing the situation in my mind.  What if I’d have been the new girl at my high school in Boston?  How would I have been treated?  If I was honest with myself, I knew I probably would’ve been ignored and avoided like the plague.  As much as I loved Boston, we weren’t exactly known for our friendliness.  Here though, I’d been accepted.  They’d let me in and they were good people.

“I guess you’re right.  It hasn’t been as bad as I thought it was going to be,” I admitted, an
d then paused for a moment. “But, I’m not going out with Alex Bettencourt.  We’re just hanging out.”

“For now, but that’ll change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Alex always seems to get what he wants.”

“And what’s
that
supposed to mean?” I exclaimed.

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Jesse.  What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing
,” he repeated.


Ya know, everyone’s been so hesitant about me going out with Alex.  Why is that?”

He looked at me skeptically
as if he wanted to say something.

“Just say what you
wanna say,” I demanded.

“I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure where this whole thing with you two was going, but things seem to be getting serious now,” he began.

“And?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why do you think I’d get hurt?”

BOOK: Last Train Home
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