Page 66 of The Christmas Express
‘It’s hard to explain, but it all just got so . . . mean. You know? We were supposed to be best friends, but we were picking at each other’s biggest insecurities, taking shots that are just hard to come back from.’
‘And you couldn’t work through it?’
Cali leans her forehead against the cold glass window, and closes her eyes. ‘Everything had changed. And then they all fled, we scattered before ever giving ourselves a chance to repair. And you could say that people don’t mean the things they say in the heat of an argument, but this felt like everyone did mean it. It felt like these were deep-seated, true feelings, finally bubbling over.’
‘What kind of thing, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Well, Sara was stinging Joss about the failed business and the lost money, something she already felt awful about. Bryn called Joe a doormat and said none of us even really knew him after all these years because he never came out of Joss’s shadow. Joss called me needy.’ She stops and shakes her head. ‘The list goes on. But in short, Luke and I “hooked up”, and I ruined the whole dynamic, for everyone. I felt like we’d doomed the whole trip.’
‘That’s how you feel?’
She looks drained, but nods, then stands up straight. ‘I’m going to the bathroom.’
‘You okay?’
‘I’m okay.’
She leaves and I climb back up the stairs, returning to my seat beside Luke, and Cali reappears a few minutes later.
I turn our conversation over in my head. These guys are living in the past and look what it’s doing to them. I study Luke, who is staring out of the window still.
I follow his gaze, and realise that, actually, he’s staring at the reflection of Cali on the other side of the carriage. Those two.
‘Luke, how far would you go for someone that might be the one?’
‘What?’ he says, glancing at me like he’s been caught, then drops himself in it further by flicking his gaze straight over to Cali, who has her chin on the seat in front of her like a forlorn puppy, staring forward at the blackness outside.
I shake my head and exhale. ‘I think I might be making a big mistake,’ I say, keeping my voice low. I don’t want them all jumping all over this, but Luke, well, I think he might get it.
‘In what way?’ he asks, his voice just as quiet, respecting my privacy.
‘I think, maybe, I might have been a bit delusional about Bryn. What the hell was I thinking, coming all the way out here? She’s going to hate me for doing this to her, isn’t she? So what does this mean?’
He’s quiet for a while, thinking, nodding. ‘I guess I think . . . you have to follow your heart, but it’s hard to know if your heart is telling you how you feel now, or if it’s, like, muscle memory. You won’t know unless you follow it and really listen, I guess.’
‘Does following it all the way to Vancouver seem like a good idea to you?’
‘For you? I can’t answer that. But I don’t think following it has to mean literally taking a physical journey to try and get the answers from someone else. You probably know the answers, whether you’re on one side of Canada or the other, or back on your beach at home.’
I wriggle my nose in thought. He’s not wrong. I’ve come this far, maybe I just plough on, see it through to the end. But Alex’s face is there, and I like her, and I’m not saying she’s now The One, but the fact she’s made an impact on me . . . maybe that’s the push I needed?
‘I think I want to kiss Alex,’ I whisper. ‘And I don’t think I would be feeling like that if I was still in love with Bryn.’
Chapter 34
Cali
It’s Christmas, for God’s sake. We’re in Canada. Canada! And yes, we might be about to get swept away by an avalanche, but shouldn’t we go down dancing?
I stand up and crank the music up, filling the dimly lit carriage with Christmas crackers.
‘This is so petty,’ I announce. ‘This is all so unimportant when we might be about to miss our best friend’s wedding.’
Joss groans. ‘Bryn isn’t your best friend any more, though, mate.’
‘Stop it, it’s Christmas. We are not doing this. Again. Come on.’ I pop open a bottle of Prosecco I find on one of the tables. Probably should have asked who’s that was first. Too late now! ‘Please? This is our last night on this journey . . . maybe . . . let’s go out with a bang? Sorry, wrong word.’
One by one they rise, accept a drink, start swaying to the music, and after a while I think they’ve thawed enough (or drunk enough) that we could maybe call this a party again?
