Runaway Pt. 01

"No," I interrupted. "I can't go home."

Noah stared at me. "Did they kick you out too?"

I fixed my eyes firmly to my shoes. "I don't want to talk about it."

The conductor picked that moment to interrupt us.

"...and I truly can't apologize enough, Miss Stephens," he finished after rambling on.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Is there anything we can do to make your trip more comfortable or secure? Perhaps an upgrade? We can put you in one of the sleeper cabins. All cars have full security, of course, but if a room would help..."

"Oh, no, I don't need that," I said.

Noah coughed. "You sure, Lacey? Nothing wrong with getting an upgrade. Maybe one for the trip back, too."

"Of course, Miss Stephens, we would be more than happy—"

"Really, it's all right."

The astonishment on Noah's face was almost comical, a reddish hue spreading across his cheeks as I turned down the sleeper car.

"Well, if you insist," said the conductor. "Tell you what, I'll make a note on your customer profile. If you change your mind, you just need to tell any employee and we'll get you in a sleeper cabin."

Noah stared at the conductor after he walked away, then turned back to me. "Are you crazy? You gave up a sleeper cabin!"

"I didn't pay for it."

"It's not like it'd be stealing! They're offering you a nice service to help make up for that douchebag's behaviour."

"It's not their fault. And I'm okay, thanks to you."

Noah shook his head slowly as he stared at me. "You really haven't ever left that small town of yours, have you?"

"Not really. Why?"

He sighed. "Fuck. I was gonna get off in Edmonton, maybe head up north."

"Was?"

"Guess I'm going to Vancouver now."

"What? Why?"

Noah shook his head. "'Cause if I don't, you're gonna get yourself in trouble. Then I'm gonna have to hear some sad news story about a pretty small-town girl named Lacey Stephens who ended up dead in a ditch somewhere."

**

The stop in Saskatoon was relatively uneventful. I watched from my window as Brody was escorted off the train. His face was sullen and haughty, and when he glanced back at the train I ducked below the window, hoping he hadn't seen me.

The weightlessness of relief settled on my shoulders, and I said a brief prayer, thanking God as I relaxed. I didn't leave the train, opting instead to huddle in my seat across from Noah. It was only after the train left and I started to get tired that I regretted passing up the sleeper cabin.

The train seats weren't uncomfortable to sit in, but sleeping was another matter. I had never tried to sleep sitting in a chair before and couldn't seem to tilt the seat back far enough to get comfortable. After giving up on that, I tried lying across the seat next to me, then realized that I didn't have a pillow. I wrapped my sweater around my backpack and rested against that, only to find myself staring across at Noah. He was dozing in his seat, arms folded in front of him and head leaning against the window, seemingly oblivious to the sound of the train clacking along the tracks.

I didn't feel right about accepting an upgrade for something that wasn't the train company's fault, but I did resolve to buy myself a pillow and blanket during the stop in Edmonton. We would be in the city for a few hours in the morning, and according to my phone, there were shops nearby to wander while we were there.

During my fight for comfort, I prayed quietly. I asked God for strength, thanked Him for sending Noah to help me, and told Him how afraid I was. I asked Him to help me find Sean, to watch over me, and with a surge of stomach-turning guilt, to forgive me. I thought it was more likely that God would forgive me than my father, but I asked Him to help my parents forgive me, too.

After praying, I watched Noah sleep for a while. He looked even younger in his sleep, though his face still held tension that creased his forehead. He had moved his bag to the seat across from mine earlier in the night, despite my protests that he shouldn't change his travel plans just because I was an idiot.

"They weren't plans, exactly," he had said. "It's no big deal."

We hadn't talked much for the rest of the night. Noah had taken out a ragged-looking paperback and began reading, while I pulled out my e-Reader to do the same. After the stop in Saskatoon, I had gone to the train's washroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I'd returned, Noah was already asleep.

I had checked my phone a few times, but after the last awful message from Roger, there was nothing. Either word hadn't made it back to my parents yet, or they were waiting for me to crawl home with my tail between my legs. I imagined they knew. Kristen wouldn't have been able to contain herself and probably went straight to my parents' house after seeing Roger at the Timmy's.

I wondered what would happen when I didn't come back home right away.

I wondered if I'd still have a home to go to once I told them what I was doing.

That was the thought bouncing around my mind as I finally began to fall asleep. The train car had darkened, just lit from the emergency lighting that lined the aisles. Aside from the loud rumbling of the train on the tracks, it was quiet, and no one had walked down the aisle past my seat for some time. I was warm, but not overly so, and had finally managed to tuck myself against the seats in such a way that I was reasonably comfortable. My eyes were closed, my breathing steady, and I could feel my body sinking into that blissful place of unconsciousness.

So of course, that was the moment the train blasted its horn.

My eyes flew back open and I let out an involuntarily whine. As my eyes re-adjusted to the dim lighting, I caught a flash of light reflecting in the dark eyes across from me. Uncertain if it was the horn or the noise I'd made that had woken Noah, I apologized.

"Part of the joys of train travel," he said.

With a sigh, I sat back up.

"How do you sleep through it?"

"Practice. Or sleeping pills. Or you take the sleeper cabin upgrade they offer you."

My cheeks flamed slightly. He was right, of course.

"I would feel guilty taking an upgrade."

"Why?"

"It was my own fault. I got myself into that situation."

Noah's face softened and he shook his head. "Don't say that."

"I did, though. It was my—"

"No, it wasn't." He moved out of his seat and folded his tall body into the one next to me, speaking more quietly than he had before. "Look, you might have a little too much blind faith to be running around on your own. That doesn't make what happened your fault."

"He could have... done things to me. And I didn't do anything to protect myself."

Noah shifted slightly. His thigh pressed against my knee, a strangely comforting warmth as he looked at me.

"Not saying you shouldn't be careful. People are bastards and a lot of them are willing to hurt you. Doesn't make it your fault when something like that happens."

His face was serious, eyes wise beyond what they should have been for a man his age. Though he had just told me I needed to be careful, I struggled not to find comfort in Noah's closeness. With a concentrated effort, I tore my eyes away from his and looked down at my hands.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"You think the best of people. Not a bad thing, just sometimes people aren't the best, you know? Don't let that son of a bitch get in your head." I winced at his language, which he noticed. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't stop the heat from rising in my cheeks. "It's stupid. You'll laugh at me."

"Probably. Tell me anyway."

I smiled shyly. "I'm not used to hearing people swear. It's jarring."

As promised, he laughed, but it didn't make me feel stupid. In fact, I chuckled a bit, too.

"Damn. I didn't even think people like you existed anymore." He grinned, not the usual tight-lipped smile I had seen, and his dark eyes glinted. "I'll try to tone down the language. I don't want to offend your delicate sensibilities, Miss Lacey."

"You don't have to," I said softly. "It doesn't offend me. It's just different."

"We come from some pretty different places, I guess."

It was then that I realized I didn't really know anything about Noah, aside from the fact that he was far more streetwise than I was.

"Where do you come from?" I asked.

"Here."

"The train?"

He laughed. "Nah. Just Canada. Here and there, you know."

I tried not to show my disappointment in his evasive response.

"Will you tell me a bit about you? I don't even know your last name."

Noah considered me for a moment, his expression serious again. I wondered if he was deciding whether to trust me. He must have thought he could, because he finally answered.

"It's Reiman. Noah Reiman. And I wasn't trying to be cute. I've drifted for a while now. Guess I could say I grew up in the Kootenays in B.C. Left when I was 16, haven't really settled anywhere permanently since."

"Why?"

That tight-lipped smirk appeared again, along with a short pause. "Haven't found home yet."

"Do you ever go back to visit your family?" My words made Noah tense, and I grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get too personal."

"Nah, it's all right." He took a breath. "Don't have much family. Dad died when I was a kid. Mom's in jail."

I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"All good. Shit happens."

I didn't press for more details and he didn't offer them.

"What about you, Miss Lacey? I got bits and pieces of your tragic past. You're trying to find your brother, you got some drama with your parents, you're too kind for your own good. What else is there to know about you?"

I smiled and shook my head. "That about sums it up. My father's a preacher. I live at home. I went to college."

"What'dja do there?"

"Education."

"I might look stupid, but I figured that much out."

"No!" I laughed again. "I meant Education, like to become a teacher."

Another of those rare, true smiles flashed across Noah's lips. "You'd be a good teacher. I can tell."

"How so?"

"You'd be nice. Genuinely nice. Not one of those bitch teachers who yells at all the kids and shit. They'd give you a hard time sometimes, you know. Kids can be dicks. But anyone fucks with you and those kids would defend you to the death."

He seemed to have forgotten that he intended to tone down his language, but I found I didn't mind. In truth, there was a warm delight spreading through my chest, and I was fairly certain it was the nicest compliment I had ever received.

"Did you have a teacher like that?"

Noah shrugged. "Had a couple good teachers. Most weren't. But I remember Mrs. Charpentier pretty good. She was sweet, saw the best in everyone, kinda like you. Thought I'd make something of myself. Might've been right, but she got real sick and left the school. Then my mom got arrested. Didn't really have anyone seeing anything in me after that."

He spoke matter-of-factly, but there was sorrow beneath his words. My instinct that Noah's life hadn't been easy was right, but it wasn't something I wanted to be right about.

"That was when you were sixteen?" I asked.

"Fifteen, really. Stayed in a group home for a few months before I took off."

At fifteen, I had been on the honour-roll at school and one of the youth leaders with the church. I had already started teaching piano lessons and had managed to save up enough to go with Kristen and a few other friends to a Youth of the Church conference in Winnipeg that summer.

"How long ago was that?"

"You asking how old I am, Miss Lacey? That's not considered a rude question?"

"Oh, I didn't mean..."

Noah bumped my arm lightly. "Teasing you. Was about ten years ago."

He was about the same age as Sean, then, and was about the same age when he experienced tragedy, too. Maybe that age was terrible for all boys.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I know you're not supposed to ask a lady her age, but..."

"Bold of you to assume I'm a lady," I responded.

Noah laughed, a genuine bark of surprise. "You seem pretty lady-like to me, but I could be wrong."

His laughter made that warm feeling in my chest spread. I liked hearing him laugh as much as I liked talking to him.

"Being called a lady makes me sound like I have my life together. I don't."

"You're what, twenty-one?"

"Twenty-two."

"Not supposed to have your life together yet. Enjoy it while you can."

We talked a while longer, whispering back and forth, making jokes. Noah had warned me not to trust easily, but he certainly made it difficult to practice.

At some point during the evening, we fell asleep. I didn't remember making the decision to do so or hearing Noah say he was tired, but when the train pulled into Edmonton the next morning my head was resting against his shoulder.

I woke up slowly at first, blinking at the sudden bustle of people around us. As my mind began to work, I realized Noah's hand was resting against my thigh. It was most certainly unintentional, and even then, wasn't inappropriately high, but the feel of his palm resting against my jeans was intimate in a way I had never experienced. It wasn't unwelcome, though. I had obviously been comfortable enough to fall asleep resting my head against him... and my legs... and, well, as I woke even more, I realized I was pressed quite snugly against him in the seat.

My face burned and I tried to shift away casually. Whether my movement woke him up or if he had been jostled by someone moving down the aisle, I didn't know. His hand left my thigh casually, a fluid movement, and neither of us addressed how closely we had slept during the night.

"Morning," Noah said, his voice raspy.

"Good morning."

I extended my legs, wincing as my muscles protested. Every part of me was stiff and a knot was pinching somewhere deep in my left shoulder.

"Must be in Edmonton?"

I nodded, rubbing a spot on my face where I could feel a line that had been pressed into my skin from the denim of his jacket.

"Got a few hours here, then. You said you wanted to stop by a couple stores?"

Noah didn't seem nearly as sore as I did, only yawning as he stood and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. He worked his fingers through a tangle near his chin as he looked at me.

"Are you sure you want to keep going to Vancouver?" I fiddled nervously with the gold cross around my neck, pretending I was untangling it. "I know you said you were getting off here."

"Told you, gotta make sure you get there okay."

"It's really sweet of you."

He waved a hand at me. "Don't feel too flattered. Wouldn't be able to live with myself if I heard something bad happened to you."

I smiled as Noah collected his bag. He could pretend it was self-serving all he wanted, but it was still a kind act.

There was a Tim Horton's right in the train station, and I beelined for it as soon as we stepped off the train. Noah followed behind me, catching up as I joined the line.

"Desperate for coffee?" he asked.

My stomach rumbled. "And breakfast."

He smiled tightly and nodded. When we got to the till, I ordered an extra-large French Vanilla cappuccino, a breakfast sandwich, and two extra hash browns. Noah stepped out of the line and I looked at him, curious.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm good."

"Seriously, Noah. My treat."

"It's fine."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Order something or I'll pick for you."

He looked uncomfortable, but turned to the cashier. "Just a small coffee, then. Black, please."

I had no idea why he was being so resistant and it was starting to frustrate me. Frowning, I folded my arms. "Get something to eat, please."

"Lacey, just drop it."

"Add an everything bagel," I said to the cashier. "With herb-and-garlic cream cheese, please."

After paying, we stepped to the side to wait for our orders.

"What was that all about?" I asked pointedly, keeping my voice low.

Noah glared at me. "I don't need your charity, you know."

My mouth dropped open, my frustration disappearing as it was replaced by the crushing realization that I had offended him.

"I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, whatever. Just drop it."

"No!" I folded my arms, scowling. "I'm trying to apologize."

Noah's jaw was clenched and he glanced around, eyes darting suspiciously as he looked at the people surrounding us.

"Look, I get money's probably no big deal to you," he hissed. "You don't need to buy me shit. I'm capable of supporting myself."

"I wasn't implying that you couldn't," I whispered back. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think of it that way. I was trying to buy you breakfast as a thank you for saving my ass, giving up your plans, and being an all-around decent person to me since I'm way over my head here. It's the least I can do, Noah. It's not about charity."

He glared at me a moment longer before his expression changed to one of confusion.

"Did you just say 'ass?'"

My hand flew to my mouth before I could stop it and Noah burst out laughing.

"I have an extra-large French vanilla, small coffee, breakfast sandwich, and bagel?" called the worker behind the counter.

Noah grabbed the bag before I managed to react, balancing his coffee on top of mine. He was still chuckling when we sat down at a small table nearby.

"Does this mean you forgive me?" I asked.

"Ah, can't stay mad at you." He dug into the bag, sliding my breakfast sandwich across the table. "Taking one of your hash browns, though."

After eating, we made our way out of the station to a small mall nearby. I had heard that Edmonton had the biggest mall in the world, but we didn't seem to be near it. There was a London Drugs in the mall, and I was able to find a neck pillow and travel blanket, as well as a few other miscellaneous items I thought I might need since the length of my trip and destination had changed.

Noah didn't get anything, and I didn't ask if he wanted anything. We hadn't talked about how different our economic situations were, and I had no intention of offending him further. I did pick up a few snacks and things I could keep in my bag, hoping he'd be okay if I offered to share something with him while we were on the train.

I was paying for my purchase when my phone started ringing. Without even pulling it from my pocket, I knew who it was.

"Cash or card?" asked the cashier.

My throat had gone dry and I held up my debit card, paying quickly as I tried to pull my phone out. The call went to voicemail before I could answer it, but before she had even handed me the receipt, it was ringing again.

"Sorry," I said to her. "Thank you."

I grabbed my bag and flew past Noah, who was waiting near the exit. As soon as I was out of the store, I answered the phone.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Barbara, she answered. Lacey, I'm putting you on speakerphone."

He fumbled with the phone for a moment, then the strange echo-y sound of his voice returned. "Lacey, there had better be a damn good reason for you to—"

"Lacey, sweetie, where are you? Are you in Winnipeg?"

My mom never interrupted my father. It was that more than anything else that tore at my heart, and I nearly burst into tears.

"Mom, I'm okay, I'm fine—"

"Where are you?" my father said coldly.

"Sweetie, Kristen came over this morning and said she hadn't heard from you since yesterday, and we thought we saw Roger Swift in town earlier—"

"Did you lie to us about who you were going with?"

"No, Daddy," I said. "D-Did Kristen not say what happened?"

"Did you do something with that boy, Lacey?"

"Oh Lord, sweetie, did he touch you?"

"No, Daddy. Mom, he didn't do anything. He didn't go to Winnipeg—"

"We'll come get you," Mom said firmly. "Where did you stay? Are you at the train station? I'll get the car, we can be there in a few hours—"