Page 33 of Some Kind of Forever
“What wasthat?” Ashlie cackles, shaking her head. “You’re getting rusty there, Chase.”
“So, train? Tonight at five? These two are already in,” Hunter cuts in, looking at me.
“Oh, me? I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be home by then.”
“You will,” Patti’s voice says from behind me, grinning from ear to ear. “She’ll be there, boss’s orders!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHASE
We pull up to the train depot a little before five p.m. and wait for the ticket booth to open. Wrought-iron gates surround it, set against a backdrop of redwood trees. A brown and burgundy steam engine sits just beyond the ticket counter, pulling three mustard-colored train cars behind it.
I glance at my phone to check the time again and look around the parking lot, hoping to see a silver sedan pull in. What I see instead makes me groan internally, my scalp prickling with irritation. Maggie St. Clair and her cronies drive by in a jet-black luxury SUV, looking out of place next to the smaller, fuel-efficient cars in the parking lot.
“Did you invite Maggie tonight?” I turn to Hunter, tipping my head in their direction.
“Why the hell would I do that?” he asks, missing my gesture while he cranes his neck to look down the track. I kick his foot and he looks up, instantly grimacing as disgust floods over his face. “No, I didn’t invite her. You know I can’t stand her.”
Hunter and Maggie may be cousins, but you wouldn’t know it. They look nothing alike and share a mutual disdain that only escalated once Hunter’s parents divorced. Where Hunter likes to have fun and live carefree, never taking himself too seriously,Maggie embodies poise and discipline, oozing with pretentiousness. They’re oil and water personified.
“Ashlie and your girl are here though.” He nods behind me.
“She’s not my girl…” I shove my fidgeting fingers in my pocket, the wordyethanging off the tip of my tongue.
“But you want her to be. And she wants to be…or she did, before you hugged Maggie at lunch.” He shivers, scrunching his face like he’s just tasted something bitter. I regretted hugging Maggie as soon as I agreed to it, and watching Kayla’s face drop as she pulled her hand away from mine was like a punch to the gut. Maggie doesn’t get along with many people, and I guess I feel bad for her. But in my effort to be friendly to someone I really don’t care for, I may have harmed what little chance I have with someone I do.
Kayla’s hair is down tonight, her locs deeply parted and flipped to one side, fanning around the dark denim jacket on her shoulders. An olive-green tee hugs the dip in her waist before giving way to ripped, skin-tight black jeans. I’ve never seen her style outside of a waitress uniform and camp counselor shirts. This newest glimpse into her personality only fans the flame. She bites her lip and looks down at her boots, and I realize I’m staring again.
“Before you two start your little ‘hi’ routine, the ticket booth is open,” Hunter says, the smirk returning to his face as he watches the tension between us.
The four of us make our way onto the train, with Hunter leading us back to the middle car. Warm yellow lighting against cream walls creates a path along the ceiling, and brown vinyl seats, just wide enough for two people, face together next to large windows.
Hunter takes a seat, and I grab the one across from him. Ashlie catches on and heads toward Hunter. “Boy, if you don’t slide over and give me the window…” She nudges his shoulder until he moves to the opposite end of the seat.
Kayla plops down next to me, her hip pressing into mine. Idrum my fingers on my knee as I struggle to keep my hands to myself. “Do you want the window?” I ask casually, trying to expel my nervous energy through small talk.
“I’m okay.” She smiles, placing her hand on mine, stilling the rhythm of my tapping. She doesn’t move away, so I take it as a good sign and flip our hands over, knitting our fingers together.
“Okay! Progress! Progress!” Ashlie claps her hands in a silent applause, nodding approval at our newest milestone.
It takes about an hour to get from the depot to the outdoor bar. Ashlie and Hunter keep the conversation light and flowing while I steal glances over at Kayla. Seemingly relaxed and happy, she laughs easily at the banter between our best friends. She hasn’t moved her hand away from mine, and I know with complete surety I’m not letting go first.
We arrive at a large green barn with sparkling lights lining the places where walls used to be. A small gazebo sits toward the back of the property, overlooking a trickling stream. Lawn games are scattered over a grassy grove across from firepits surrounded by Adirondack chairs. The sign at the entrance gate reads Herbert’s Hole, with an inscribed history of the establishment.
“Herbert’s Hole?” Hunter fakes disgust. I just know he’s about to make this into some kind of innuendo. “They couldn’t think of a better name? We’re playing all night in Herbert’s Hole?”
Kayla snorts a laugh next to me, while Ashlie shoves his shoulder playfully.
“Hunter, that’s disgusting!” a familiar voice snarls from behind me. I turn to see Maggie, flanked by her friends, whose names I forget. Cami and Tami? Carly and Tara?
“Why are you even here, Magma?” Hunter asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
Maggie’s lips fall into a thin line as she rolls her eyes at the misnomer. “Your dad asked if we were going on the train ride, and we thought it sounded fun.”
“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass.”
“You’re so crude,” she replies, staring him down.
