Page 30 of Leaving the Station

“Is this allowed?” I shout into his ear over the music.

“I have an extra stash,” he tells me. “For events like this.”

I’m once again convinced that Edward is a witch or psychic or just the best snack car operator of all time.

I’ll be writing to Amtrak after this trip to tell them that he deserves a raise and a million dollars and a train named after

him.

After a few more Aya-approved songs, Nanami comes into the observation car. I had barely noticed that she wasn’t here. Mike

walks over to her, but neither of them speak. They both look deeply uncomfortable.

“She needs to tell Aya,” Oakley whispers in my ear.

“Yeah, but not right now ,” I say.

Oakley frowns at this. “Of course, right now. Why not right now?”

It’s my turn to frown. “Because it’s Aya’s birthday party.”

“Exactly, and she deserves to know.”

“She deserves to have fun .” I keep my voice low so that Aya doesn’t hear. “Please, Oakley?” I take a deep breath, trying to quell the desperation rising

in me. “Can you forget about this until tomorrow?”

She sighs, and I think I’ve won until she wanders over to Nanami and whispers in her ear.

I want to run over there and stop her, but when Nanami’s face twists in pain, I know she’s already done it.

“No,” Nanami says loudly enough that I can hear it.

“No what?” Aya asks, happily bounding up to her mom and Oakley.

I want to shield my eyes from whatever’s about to happen.

“No nothing, Aya,” Nanami says, at the same time that Oakley says, “Tell her.”

I walk over to them and reach for her. “Oakley,” I say, hoping it can act as a warning and a balm all in one.

She steps away from me.

Other partiers have begun to notice the change in atmosphere, and someone turns the upbeat music down.

“Not right now,” Nanami says to Oakley, her jaw clenched.

“Can’t it wait?” I whisper to Oakley. “Please?”

We’re both trying to reason with her, but from different sides.

“No,” she says, her voice shaking.

It’s hard for me to believe this is entirely about Aya, who’s looking up at us with wide eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asks. “Because something’s up.” She directs that to her mom. “You’ve been acting weird.”

Nanami gives Oakley the most withering stare I’ve ever seen, but she leans down and speaks into her daughter’s ear. I pick

up fragments like “need to talk ” and “private. ”

Aya nods, and Nanami retreats to the sleeper car. But before Aya leaves, she turns around and beams at everyone as if nothing

happened.

“Looks like it’s time for me to go,” Aya says to the crowd. “But it’s okay,” she adds, her tone serious. “This has been the

best night of my life.”

She gives me and Oakley one last hug, then follows Nanami into the sleeper car.

After tonight, she can’t go back to not knowing.

I want to confront Oakley, to ask her why she did this, why now , at the most inconvenient time.

But some part of me already knows the answer—she values truth and knowledge over everything else, convenience be damned. She’s

told me this time and time again, and yet I can’t square this fact with what she’s about to do in one day’s time.

The party doesn’t die down once Aya leaves; it only gets more chaotic. Some of the adults pass around wine and vodka. I try

to grab a bottle, but Clint appears out of nowhere and takes it from me, shaking his head.

I do manage to snag a slice of pumpkin pie that someone brought with them on the train.

Oakley and I sit on the sidelines, sharing a fork and eating off the pug-covered paper plates in a silence I don’t know how

to characterize.

“Did you hear what Aya said?” Oakley asks, not realizing that I don’t want to talk about it. “She was telling me that she’d

heard her mom and dad fighting for months. She’s a perceptive kid.”

I nod as I chew a bite of pie. “I know,” I say. “But how’d you get all that out of her?”

“You didn’t think we were just talking about Percy Jackson, did you?”

“Kind of,” I tell her. “Yes.”

“I can talk about real things when I want to,” Oakley says, though her attention is now focused on the pie and the pie alone.

I’m about to ask her if she can, if she wants to have a real conversation. But just then, a slow song comes on.

“This one’s for the lovebirds,” Virginia announces to the observation car. “A special treat.” She has her arms around Clint,

and she winks at me.

The song is slow and melancholy, with acoustic guitar over gentle piano notes.

Oakley extends her hand. “Dance with me?”

I don’t know if it’s a peace offering or a goodbye.

I chew the final bite of pie painfully slowly. When I’m done, she leads me to the dance floor (aka the aisle of the observation

car).

She puts her hands around my neck and leans against me, and I tentatively wrap mine around her waist.

It happens so naturally, not like with Alden where I had to guide his hands up to my neck, to try to make him understand that

that’s how I wanted him to hold me.

I shouldn’t be thinking about Alden right now.

“Do you think this is the first dance party that’s ever happened in the observation car?” I ask Oakley after a minute of swaying.

“No,” she says, her cheek on my shoulder. “I think that other people have probably figured out that this is a good way to

waste time.”

I tighten my grip on her. “That’s not what this is, though,” I say. “It’s not just a way to waste time, right?”

She has to know I’m not talking about the party. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.

“I mean, it is, isn’t it?”

We sway for the rest of the song, but my mind is elsewhere. I have a sudden, desperate need to talk to her about what this

trip has meant and what’s going to happen tomorrow.

“I’m glad we met, Oakley,” I whisper into her ear, not wanting to ruin the moment just yet.

She hugs me closer. “I am too.”

It’s how I imagine prom would’ve been; I went to a Science Olympiad competition instead.

“This is all going to be over so soon,” I say as the song finishes and we break apart.

“It’ll be okay,” Oakley says, looking down.

“So soon that you could’ve waited to force Nanami to tell Aya,” I mutter, not able to let this go.

“I didn’t force her to do anything,” Oakley says, and I shrug in response.

Because it kind of felt like she did.

Someone switches the music back to the Vengaboys, and the vibe in the car returns to intense celebration mode.

But I fell out of celebration mode a while ago, so I drag Oakley to the far end of the car, where there’s a booth for us to

sit.

“Are you going to ask me again why I did what I did?” Oakley’s voice is colder than it’s ever been with me.

“Obviously, yes,” I say. “Don’t you see how shitty it is?”

“Seriously?” Oakley asks, incredulous. “You don’t think it’s crappy that Nanami was hiding this from Aya?”

I almost laugh at Oakley’s turn of phrase—I’ve never heard her curse, and right now, I wish she would.

“Of course I do,” I tell her. “But you only added to the shittiness.”

She closes her eyes, formulating a response. For once, I don’t want to hear what she has to say.

“I had to,” she tells me finally. “I needed her to know the truth.”

I don’t know how she can believe this, but then again, the amount of things I don’t understand about Oakley is innumerable.

“Okay then,” I say, “if the truth is everything to you, can I tell you the truth?”

She nods.

“I like you, Oakley.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I like you too.”

“No,” I insist, “I really like you. I know it’s only been a few days but this trip has meant something to me.” I lower my voice. “Hasn’t it meant something

to you?”

“Of course,” she whispers.

“Then why are you... ?” I’m not brave enough to finish that sentence, but Oakley knows what I mean.

“Why am I rejoining the Church?” she asks, and I nod. “Did you think you could change my mind?”

“No,” I say, even though I did, or maybe just hoped. “But I don’t understand.”

She leans back in the booth and crosses her arms. “You don’t have to understand,” she tells me. “This is my life . This is what I’m going to do with it. You can’t expect me to change my plans just because we made out a little. We’ve known

each other for three days .”

I’m trying not to let her see how much her words are hurting me. But I know she knows. I’m pretty sure that’s why she’s saying

them.

“If that’s the case, then why did you make Nanami tell Aya about moving to Seattle? Why do you care about her if you’ve only

known her for three days?”

“That’s different,” Oakley says.

“How?”

“Because it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known Aya. She deserved to know.”

“But did you have to ruin her party?”

“ I ruined her party?” Oakley scoffs.

“Yeah,” I tell her. “You did.”

“If that’s what you think, then I don’t know how to help you,” Oakley says. “It’s like you’re incapable of understanding that

I might know more about what Aya’s going through than you.”

“Because you know everything , don’t you?”

She’s clearly hurt by my words, but right now, I don’t care.

“I’m going to be back in Ritzville—back in the Church— tomorrow whether you think that’s best for me or not,” she says through gritted teeth.

“I thought I’d be able to get, like, one queer experience in New York.

And it didn’t happen.” She shakes her head, fighting back tears. “But now, we’ve made out, so...”

“So that’s it?” I ask. “Now you can go back to a religion that doesn’t give a shit about you?” My chest is tight. “ Why , Oakley? Why are you doing this?” I sound desperate, but I can’t help it. “Why are you rejoining the Church? I don’t get

it. You can have all the queer experiences you want out here!” I gesture to the observation car, though that doesn’t help

my point, since we’re in an enclosed space, a giant metal train barreling through the dark.

“It’s not for you to get!” she shouts as a song ends. Everyone looks over at us. “ It’s not for you to get ,” she repeats in a whisper. “This is my life. It’s none of your business.”

“But it could be,” I whisper back. “Maybe I want it to be. I fucking care about you, Oakley.”

“You don’t even know me!” Oakley whisper-shouts.

The next song plays. It’s too upbeat for what’s happening here.

“You could let me know you,” I say quietly.

She shakes her head. “Maybe you thought this was more than it was, but that’s on you,” she says, and my fragile heart shatters. “We were having fun; that’s it.”

“Well, if that’s what this was, then you should know that you weren’t the only one trying to ‘have a queer experience,’” I

say, mimicking her cruel tone. “I just wanted to make out with a girl, and you were here.” I hate the words coming out of

my mouth, the lies , but that doesn’t stop me from saying them.

She scoffs. “You’ve kissed plenty of girls before.”

She’s so confident that she’s right.

“I haven’t. You were the first.” I take a breath, and finally say it: “I have a boyfriend.”

That gets her attention. “You have a what ?”

“I was dating a boy at school,” I tell her. I don’t mention how things ended. “We’ve been dating for three months. He was

my first everything . So maybe you weren’t the only one trying to live a lie on the train.”

Her eyes go wide. “What the fuck, Zoe?”

It’s the first real curse I’ve ever heard her say.

She storms through the partygoers, back to her sleeper car. The one we made out in, the one we cuddled in together.

The one I’ll likely never see again.