Page 14 of The Christmas Express
Ember
Why oh why oh why did I let myself get roped into this? I don’t want to spend four days jammed in a train with these people. I can already feel the walls closing in on me.
They don’t care about me. They don’t want me there with them.
I walk through Toronto, lit up as far as the eye can see with strings of Christmas lights, though I pass them, barely noticing. My eyes are down, my stride fast, my mouth set in a line, my nose cold. I’m so stupid for agreeing to this. I just want to go home.
The city reminds me of London at Christmastime. Beautiful, lively, musical, but something I left behind. I walk past tall glass buildings and the statuesque CN Tower. I don’t slow my stride except to cross street after street. I don’t know where I’m going.
I don’t know where I’m going.
What the hell am I doing out here?
I sniffle into the cold. I miss my friends, my home. I miss the beach and the water. I miss my family. I miss having anyone to love me.
In front of me, the crowd parts, and the deafening noise of the city becomes dampened, just a little, and it feels like someone has tied a string to my head, lifting it, forcing me to look.
‘Oh...’ I breathe.
My feet have led me to the harbour, to the water. I lean over a railing, letting the moonlit ripples balm me and quieten my mind.
Beside me is an ice rink, empty but for one gentleman quietly practising intricate spins, the blades of his skates slicing the ice rhythmically, softly.
I watch him for a moment, and when he falls and I’m about to go and help him, he stands straight back up, dusts himself off, and starts moving forward again.
I don’t believe in signs, but if I did, this feels very meaningful. Tonia will want to hear about this.
What is my gut telling me? To keep going? I think that’s what it’s saying. I have to do this. I can’t move on unless I do this. It’ll be okay, won’t it?
Above me, the smallest snowflakes touch the top of my woollen beanie. Others drift down and kiss my eyelashes, and I blink into the snow.
I don’t know about my gut, but I guess I could take this as nature, at least, telling me to weather it. Whatever happens.
Tonia is chuckling down the phone at me. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not laughing.’
‘Yes, you are.’ I laugh, towel drying my hair. It’s morning here in Toronto, pretty early, and I’m decrumpling after a crappy night’s sleep before I have to go and get on this train.
‘I just can’t quite believe you gave up a short flight on to Vancouver to spend four days on a train with a bunch of people you don’t like any more. It’s kind of funny.’
‘Am I pushover?’
‘No,’ she says. Her voice is light and breezy. ‘You’re just a romantic.’
‘Romantic would have been running straight to Bryn. I’m a scaredy-cat who gave into peer pressure to avoid having my plan scuppered.’
My phone beeps with a message from Cali, reminding me of the timing for this morning’s train. As if I’d forget.
I dress warmly in a fresh sweatshirt and thick socks under my jeans, stuffing yesterday’s clothes back into my bag.
As I sweep on my eyeliner and chat to Tonia, I’m aware of a light breeziness to me, too, for reasons I’m not quite sure of.
Maybe it’s that I’m always better in the morning time.
Maybe it’s talking with my best friend. I don’t know what it is, but after I’ve hung up and checked out of my hotel, I make my way through the city streets towards the train station with feel-good vibes sprinkling around me like the snowfall last night.
Maybe this will be a good thing. Maybe I’ll reconnect with the group, and that’ll make it easier for Bryn if she is, in fact, wanting us to get back together.
A black squirrel scuttles past me, little feet jumping over the light snow that rests on the pavement. Hello, you.
As I near the station though, my nerves kick back in. I’m the odd one out. I don’t belong with this group any more...
I look up at the imposing building, minutes ticking by, a battle between my head and my heart as to whether to go inside.
You agreed to this, Ember. And in return, you still get to reconnect with Bryn on your own terms. Suck it up .