Page 43 of Leaving the Station

I’d always felt slightly out of place with them, but with Alden I could be... someone different. Not fully myself—I didn’t know who that was—but I could at least bask in his easy nature.

We played cards and listened to the playlist he’d made for me. It was nice.

I couldn’t manage everyone’s expectations, so I would manage only his. He was easy enough to understand. He didn’t need me to be the perfect future doctor, or someone who knew everything about themselves.

He was simple when nothing else was.

“Do you want to make out a little?” he asked after a few too many rounds of a card game I didn’t fully understand.

I appreciated him asking. He always did—he never rushed me or leaned in without my go-ahead.

“Sure,” I told him, scooting closer.

He put his hand on my waist, and I let him do most of the work. Kissing, I’d learned, was kind of nice. It was better than losing at a card game.

I leaned into him and put my hand on his stubbly cheek, imagining having stubble of my own.

That thought stopped me short, and I pulled back.

“Are you good?”

“Yeah,” I told him, blinking hard, willing the thought that had popped into my head to leave.

It would not.

“Just kind of tired.”

“Oh.”

I could tell I’d disappointed him, and I had to fix that. He was the last person on earth—other than Randall—who wasn’t even a little disappointed in me.

I knew how to make it up to him. “Would it be okay if I stayed over tonight?”

His face was close to mine, and when I said it, he smiled wider than I’d ever seen.

Like me, Alden had a single room, so neither of us had to worry about roommates. We could’ve been having sleepovers this whole time, but I hadn’t floated the idea, and he hadn’t brought it up.

“You seriously want to?” he asked, but before I could say yes, he was already pulling a box out from under his bed and grabbing a toothbrush. “My mom packed me like one hundred extra—she’s really concerned about dental hygiene. This one could be yours when you’re here, if you want.”

Here was this boy, with his floppy bangs, his skinny arms, and his tilted head, holding a bright yellow toothbrush out to me with all the hope in the world.

“Thank you,” I told him. “Seriously.”

Once we’d brushed our teeth, we both stood in front of his bed.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said quickly. “Just, like, sleep.”

I nodded, grateful. “That’d be nice.”

He was the first to jump onto his raised bed, and I crawled in next to him. We were a few inches apart, and he closed the distance between us by turning on his side and wrapping an arm around my waist.

I let him hold me, and there was something comforting about having another living, breathing person in bed with me.

It was the best night’s sleep I’d had since I left for school.

Tuesday, 7 p.m., La Crosse, WI

We arrive at the Mississippi River crossing in total darkness. That doesn’t stop Aya from nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement. Her mom seems to have all but surrendered her to me and Oakley, and I’m not mad about it.