Chapter 3: The Path to Rome

Lupe

I was strangely excited over travelling by railway. I had never taken a train before, but I took a taxi to the station, and I was early enough to buy a return ticket to Rome at the ticket counter. I just finished the purchase when I saw Terry Weaver show up, carrying a large duffel bag. Hell, Sarah had not been lying when she waxed about reaching out to all seniors. Terry was really the bottom of the barrel, socially speaking. Not that I minded him. He was weird in a way, but he didn’t gawk at me — at least not much — and when he spoke to me, he looked me in the eyes.

I had thought long and hard about accepting Sarah’s invite. It was puzzling at first, but then she confided that she’d been to the movies with Elroy Warden and that it had been awful. She was so nice all of a sudden that I accepted.

I had to tell my parental units about the party, but they waved it off, telling me that I was of age now and that they could not tell me what to do anymore. The looks they gave each other told me everything I didn’t want to know: they were happy to have me out of their hair. I am a day student and live at home, something that is cramping their lifestyle on weekends.

Anyway, there was Terry, looking a little lost.

“Hey, wassup, Terry? Never gone by train?”

He looked around and shook his head. “No, you?”

“Neither, but it’s easy. Just buy a ticket over there, and then go to the platform to wait for the train.”

He followed my instructions, and I noticed that he paid with a Visa Gold Card. Who would have thunk? So those ill-fitting jeans and oversized denim shirts had to be his taste — or rather the complete lack thereof. His boots, though, were some nifty, lightweight Lowa trekkers, and when he looked at his wristwatch, I could see that it was a massive chronometer, a Seiko most likely. I wear one of those stainless steel timepieces, too.

He saw my look and shrugged. “I’m not starving. I just have no clothing sense,” he said very matter-of-factly.

“None, whatsoever,” I agreed deadpan, making him grin.

“Hey, has someone made you an April Fool already?”

“Shit, really? I totally forgot that. Oh God, there’ll be all those stupid pranks tonight.”

He shrugged again. He did it a lot. “Forewarned, forearmed.”

Just then, our train entered the station, and we boarded.

“The others must’ve taken an earlier train,” Terry observed.

I looked around, and he was right. We had been the only Quonsetts on the platform.