I sighed again. Maggie’s offer was incredibly tempting, but what I needed was a distraction, a way to completely shut off my brain. As much as I loved her, spending hours talking and analyzing the situation wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.
“Thanks, Mags. But I just need to clear my head for a little bit. I’ll come over tomorrow, okay? I gotta go for now.” I opened the car door. The loud music from the party echoed across the trees that surrounded the clearing.
“Okay,” Maggie replied hesitantly. “Wait, what’s that noise? Lainey, where are you?”
“I’m . . .” I figured I might as well tell someone just in case. “I’m at the tracks.”
“What!” Maggie demanded. “What are you doing there?”
“I drove by and saw a party, so I stopped.”
“And you’re just gonna go? All kinds of crazy stuff happen at those parties.”
“I’ll be fine, Maggie.”
“I’m serious, Styles. This is not a good idea!”
“I’ll be fine,” I repeated, already stepping out of the car. “Don’t worry about me.”
Maggie continued to yell, but I’d already made up my mind. “I’ll call you later!” I yelled over her tirade and ended the call. I knew I’d have to deal with her wrath later, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I shut and locked the car door and headed toward the party.
There were about twenty or so people sitting near the bonfire, drinking beer and laughing loudly. There was another group a few feet away dancing next to an iPhone that had been rigged to play through a large set of speakers.
I recognized some of the people from school, but the rest were strangers. A few gave me curious looks as I walked by, but didn’t bother to stop and make conversation.
Plopping myself down next to the bonfire, I stared into the flames and tried to think about nothing except the way the colors moved and danced together. Beside me, a boy with stringy blond hair and pasty skin popped the top of a beer can and alternated between swigs of beer and taking drags from the lit cigarette in his hand. I shook my head when he offered me the can. He shrugged and turned his attention back to his cigarette.
A few minutes later, an excited squeal rose over the music playing from the iPhone. “It’s almost time!” a voice called out.
All at once, the partygoers around the fire and those dancing began to move toward the tracks.
I looked around. “What’s going on?” I asked the blond boy. He took a quick drag of his cigarette before responding.
“It’s almost eleven,” he said, blowing smoke in my face.
Wrinkling my nose, I fanned the smoke from my eyes. “Yeah, so?”
The boy shakily got to his feet, squeezing the beer can tightly in his hand. “The freighters,” he said, stumbling toward the tracks. “They’re always right on time.”
I watched him walk away, feeling more than a little confused. In the distance, a shrill whistle cut through the darkness, eliciting cheers from the group by the tracks. What’s the big deal? It’s just a couple of trains.
I was trying to decide whether to go down to the tracks and see what all the fuss was about or just go home when a familiar voice whispered in my ear.
Lainey.
Josephine was standing a few feet away, underneath the canopy of the tree line, the orange glow from the bonfire lighting her face.
I leapt to my feet. “Go away,” I said, glaring at Josephine. I clenched my fists at my sides as hot anger ignited inside me.
Huffing, I stalked toward the group gathered by the tracks. A small orb of light was bouncing along the darkness—the headlight of the freight train coming closer.
“So what’s the big deal with the train?” I asked a girl with long braids and a nose ring.
The girl rolled her eyes as if I’d just asked her to analyze War and Peace. “It’s the eleven o’clock freighter,” she answered matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, I got that.” I narrowed my eyes. “But who cares?”
“You’re new here,” the girl spat out, glaring at me like I was an interloper in some secret society. She rolled her eyes again. “It starts at eleven, and then they run every eight minutes. Last man standing wins.”
“Wins what? What are you—” I stopped as two boys stepped over the metal railing and stood side by side in the middle of the track facing the train. Almost in response, the train gave a loud whistle. It was still several hundred feet away, but it was moving fast.
The boys were laughing as they stared down the train, daring each other to move while the rest of the group cheered and placed bets on who would wuss out first. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be appalled, but I stayed where I was, watching the boys with wide eyes.
Lainey.
The voice came from behind me. I didn’t have to look to know who it was. “I told you to go away,” I grumbled beneath my breath, refusing to turn around. The train was getting closer, and there was a tangible energy churning through the air. The boys on the tracks were no longer laughing, but focused on the train itself, both posed in a stance that would allow them to jump from either side at the last second.
I stood half horrified, half amazed as the boys played chicken with the train. One of them was swearing loudly and his whole body was shaking from exertion. The train was getting closer, its harsh whistle echoing across the trees. The boy who had been swearing turned and jumped off the tracks shaking his head. The other boy, the one still on the tracks, raised a fist triumphantly in the air but continued to stare at the train—now dangerously close. At the very last second, he threw himself from the tracks and landed on his stomach in the grass while the train roared over the very spot on which he’d been standing. The crowd cheered as he got to his feet and dusted himself off, grinning like a madman.
I was surprised to find myself clapping. The whole thing was incredibly stupid, not to mention dangerous, but there was something about the look in the boy’s eyes, how his whole face glowed. He looked entirely free. I was envious of him for that.
In the distance, another whistle began to sound and the crowd began crowing once more. Two more boys hopped up onto the tracks. I watched as they stood there looking confident and brave, the train barreling down the tracks.
Lainey.
I jumped as the voice called again. This time it was right next to me. I turned my head; Josephine, her mournful eyes trained on my face, was standing on the other side of the girl with the braids. She was close enough that I could swear she was a solid, living person instead of an apparition. Her long, dark tresses were blowing in a breeze I couldn’t feel, and the flames from the bonfire danced in her eyes.
I stared back, but when Josephine took a step toward me, something inside me snapped. “Enough!” I growled. “Leave me alone!”
The girl with braids whipped her head in my direction. “What the hell is your problem?”