Read Last Train Home Online

Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell

Tags: #Young Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

Last Train Home (17 page)

BOOK: Last Train Home
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“Yeah, he did,” she said. “You’v
e got a good friend in him, just remember that.”

She turned and walked away and I stood frozen
, staring at the blue tape.

             

Chapter Fifteen

 

I didn’t quite know what I was going to say to Jesse when I saw him.  I wanted to thank him profusely for helping me out, but I was also kind of embarrassed that he’d discovered I hadn’t taken the time to get the prep work done I was supposed to.  He already thought I was an inept city slicker.  I’d been hoping to prove him wrong by getting everything done, but if I was being honest with myself, I knew I probably wouldn’t have gotten it all done by the time he came over.   

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said
, gesturing to the tape when Jesse walked into my room the next afternoon.  “I was gonna get it done.”

“I just thought I’d help out,” he said as he walked over and began sorting the paint supplies. 

“Yeah, but, I mean…you already think I’m completely incompetent and this just proves it.”

“Let’s get one thing clear.  I may think you’re a spoiled
East Coast snob,” he began with a laugh, but then looked at me with serious eyes. “But I don’t think you’re incompetent.  I was just helping out.”

“Yeah, but, I was going to…I mean I had planned…” I continued to stammer and then stopped.  I put my hands in my pockets and sighed as I looked up and smiled at Jesse across the room. “Just…I mean…thanks
, Jesse,” I finally settled on.  There wasn’t really anything else
to
say.

He smiled
at me with his soft gray eyes.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply and then
continued laying out the supplies.

“One more thing,” I began. “D
o you really think I’m a snob?”

He smiled at me agai
n and shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think you mean to be, but you can come across that way at times.  We all get that you
miss Boston and we all know Carver isn’t exactly the most exciting place to live, but it’s our home and I wish you’d give it a chance.”

“I’m sorry.  You guys have been so awesome to me.  It’s a wonder you’ve put up with me as long as you have.”

“Well, I kinda like you.” He smiled again and turned to me, handing me part of a drop cloth. “Now enough of this talk.  Let’s get to work.  Can you help me spread this out?”

I nodded and we laid the white plastic cover on the floor. 

“The walls are nice and clean,” he said with a grin.  I could tell he knew I was embarrassed that he’d had to come over and do the taping for me.  He was trying to give me kudos to make me feel better.

“I had to do something,
right?”

He ignored my sarcasm and stirred the paint and th
en poured it into a silver tray.  He took a paint brush and handed me a roller.

“I’ll do the cutting in.  Why don’t you start painting the walls,” he suggested and I nodded.

We worked quietly for a while and although I’d never painted a wall in my life, I got the hang of it pretty quickly.  I actually kind of liked doing it too.  It was amazing to see the difference between the original dinge walls compared to the ultramarine.  It was definitely brighter and more overwhelming spread on a large surface compared to the small swatch we’d picked out at the paint store.  Even so, I immediately loved the color and the transformation of the room was almost instantaneous.

“I
love
this color, Jesse,” I said as I was finishing up the first wall. 

“Yeah.
I did a great job picking it out, huh?”

“Yes, you did,” I said as I walked over to dunk the roller into the tray to get more paint.  He was sitting on the ground cutting in above the baseboard.  I reached down and patted him on the head like I was praising an obedient dog. “Good job, Jesse.”

He just rolled his eyes and kept painting.

“How was the party last night?” he finally asked.  I was surprised it’d taken him so long to say anything.

“You were right,” I said, continuing to slather the bright blue-purple paint on the wall.  He looked up from the ground where he was still sitting with an
I told you so
look on his face, but he didn’t say anything. “We didn’t stay long.”

“Oh yeah?
  Why not?” he inquired as he turned back to his painting.

“People were getting obnoxious,” I
told him. “Adrienne was there.”

“Y
ou knew she would be.”

“Yeah, I did, but I really thought by now she’d leave me alone,” I said
, getting frustrated just thinking about it.

“She’s never gonna leave you alone
. Not as long as you’re with Alex,” he stated flatly.

“Yeah, I know,” I mumbled, walking over to get more paint.

“What’s Alex say about her?”

“He tells me not to worry about it.  Oh
, and get his theory behind her behavior,” I said quickly and he looked up at me for the answer. “Alex says Adrienne treats me this way because she’s threatened by me.”

“I’d ha
ve to agree with him.”

“Well, I don’t buy it
.  I just think she’s a witch.”

“Well, she is tha
t, but she’s singled you out for some reason, and I think Alex is right.  She’s been the queen bee forever.  She’s not used to the competition.”

“I’m hardly com
petition for Adrienne.”

“You might not think so, but you are,” he said
, looking up at me and then turning away.  I blushed and kept painting.

“Well, I’m not going to let her come betw
een us,” I said a moment later.

“So you and Alex are
an us now?” he asked.  I turned to look at him, but his eyes were focused on his painting.

“Yeah,” I said quietly,
almost embarrassed to say it.

“When did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“Hmm,” he
said softly and kept painting.

“Wh
at do you mean hmm?” I asked. 

“I just hope he deserves you
, is all.”

Jesse didn’t look over to me as he said it and I didn’t quite know how to respond.  I was quiet for a few minutes as I watched the ultramarine paint streak up and down the walls. Jesse didn’t say anything either and the room was starting to feel uncomfortably quiet.

“He treats me really well,” I finally said as I kept my eyes on the paint.

“Good,” Jesse said and the
n the silence settled in again.

“Mind if I turn on some music?” I asked a few minutes later.  I needed something to fill the void.

“Good idea,” he responded.

I put down my paint roller and walked over to my computer.  I opened up iTunes
, put my music library on shuffle and soon the silence was filled with the sounds of Katy Perry.

“So this is your idea of music?” he laughed.

“Hey, I like Katy Perry,” I said in mock defensiveness.

He laughed again but then it was quiet once more and remained so for the rest of the afternoon for the most part.  We chatted from time to time about nothing really, but the atmosphere had changed since we’d talked about Alex and me.  I knew my friends didn’t like him and I wished they’d give him a chance.  He’d done nothing to justify their feelings and I wondered what Alex was going to have to do to make them realize he wasn’t the jerk they thought he was.

“I think we’re done,” I announced as I finished covering up the last patch of dinge.

Jesse stood in the middle
of the room and looked around.

“Not bad for your first time,” he said
, giving me an approving smile.

“Thank you,” I said smiling back.
“That was actually kinda fun.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.”

“What do you mean?  Of course we’re done.”

“That was only the first coat,”
he said and then grinned at me.

“We
have to do it again?” I sighed.

“We don’t have to, but it won’t look as good if we don’t.  See how the white paint is still showing through a little?” he asked
, pointing to a spot on the wall.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.  It is
kinda streaky looking,” I admitted.

“It won’t take long though, since we’ll both be painting this time,” Jesse said as he got a fresh paint roller.  He starte
d painting and I joined him.               

So what’re we going to do about our project for Consti
tution?” I asked as we painted.

“I was thinking we could do a
power point presentation.”

“Sounds good.”

“What are your thoughts on the Second Amendment anyway?” he asked a moment later.

“I’m all for gun control,” I said and I thought I saw him shudder. “What?  You think anybody should just have a gun?” 

“No, but I don’t think the government has the right to keep American citizens from owning guns.  It is in the Constitution after all.”

“That may be true, but I doubt the Founding Fathers in
tended for people to have oozies and arsenals in their home,” I said defensively.

“I don’t think people need those kinds of weapons either, but if the government starts
banning certain guns, who’s to say they won’t ban all guns?” He was matching my defensive tone now.

“You’re being overdramatic.”

“I am not.  You just shouldn’t mess with the Constitution.”

“I’m
not saying that you should.”

“Well, then how can you argue that people shouldn’t have guns if it’s specifically stated in the Constitution that they have the right to bear arms?” His face was a little red now and I knew this was definitely a hot button issue with him.  I immediately thought back to the giant deer’s head I’d seen in his living room and knew guns and hunting were a part of his life and always had been.

“I never said people shouldn’t have guns.  You’re misinterpreting everything I said. I just think there should be a limit.  I also think there should be background checks.  Guns are scary and too many people are killed needlessly every year because of gun violence.”

“Guns are not scary
, Riley.  People who use guns irresponsibly are scary.”

“Those people couldn’t hurt people if guns weren’t so r
eadily available,” I shot back.

“Oh no.
  They wouldn’t hurt anybody,” he said sarcastically. “Guns are the only way to kill people, right?  Perhaps we should start outlawing kitchen knives.”

I just glared at him, realizing we were not go
ing to see eye to eye at all. 

“Perhaps we shouldn’t have agreed to be partners on t
his project,” I sneered at him.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he snickered
back.

We both huffed and turned quickly from each other as we worked on opposite walls.  I was practically fuming at his ignorance.  This is why I hated Kansas.  This is why I hated being here.  The people here were so backwards.

“Riley?” he asked a few minutes later and I stopped and turned to him.

“What?” I asked shortly.

“Have you ever even shot a gun?” he asked.  His voice was calm again and he didn’t sound mad like he had a few minutes before.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Maybe that’s why you feel the way you do then. You don’t understand how they work.”

I stared at him with a glare that told him he didn’t
know what he was talking about.

“I doubt that,” I told him.

“Well, I’ve got an idea,” he said, as he approached me cautiously.

“Oh yeah?
  What’s the idea, Einstein?”

“Let me t
ake you to the shooting range.”

I looked
at him and burst out laughing.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“You want to take
me
to the shooting range?  You want
me
to shoot a gun?” I asked doubtfully, the shock plastered all over my face.

“Yeah, I do,” he said with a playful smirk, the tension between us beginning to melt away.

I tapped my foot and thought about it for a second.

“I
don’t know,” I said nervously.

“C’mon.  How can you truly form an opinion on guns if you don’t know the first thing about them?”

I stared at him again and he was looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

“I’m
not going to get killed, am I?”

“Cross my heart,” he said
, making a cross on his chest with his finger.

“T
hat’s what Brandon said that first night on the four-wheeler and I nearly died.”

“Oh
, please.  Brandon did not almost kill you,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “C’mon, Riley.  Just give the shooting range a shot.  No pun intended.”

BOOK: Last Train Home
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