When The Rain Stops (BXB)

Chapter 1

Somehow, even the air conditioning couldn't stop the humidity from seeping in. The windows couldn't open, and the haze sagged with moisture.

Honestly, it's the least of my concerns. I sighed and fan myself. Which only really added to the heat on the damn thing.

"Jack, sit up," my Mom grumbles. Probably for the fifth time since the train's started. I don't really want to. I'm stuck to the leather seat coverings anyways. There's no WiFi, the reception's getting worse by the minute, and I miss everyone back home already. I don't know what Mom wants me to do to pass the time, but I doubt that staring out the window will interest me as much as it would've when I was, like, 6.

I'm occupying myself, swiping left and right through pictures and videos of friends left behind for the three-month stretch of heat and water sports on my phone.

"Jack," she whispers, giving me her "Mom" stare.

I sigh and take my feet off the seat across from me. No one was sitting there; it's just an empty seat. My backpack's there. And it's not like we're gonna be getting any more people on this train. Every time we're on it, people're getting off rather than on. With names like Port Lindsay, Cape Mitchell, and Alabaster Cove, why wouldn't people want to get off there? Those're big oceanside places. And in the summer, they blow up. And they actually have things to do there, like the piers at Cape Mitchell. Or the Luna Park in Port Lindsay.

I sigh again as another station name for another ocean side town rolled by. The train turned and rolled north, away from the sea.

South Aberford. Which, as cliché as it is, isn't the last stop on the line out of town. But my big thing with it is that...it's just so out there. There's nothing around it for miles, and there's not much to do in the damn place, especially if you don't have a car. Like, growing up, I remembered hiking, climbing trees, and swimming in the lake.

Now it's just inconviencing. It doesn't get good reception, and it doesn't really scream "SUMMERTIME FUN." At least, to me, it doesn't anymore.

"Jack," Mom says. She's giving me that look again. I didn't even realize I had my feet up again, but by that point, it doesn't really matter to me. I just want her to stop.

"Are we there yet?"

Dad laughs from behind the newspaper. "Right on cue. We just left Morris River."

I groan and slouch in my seat.

Mom hits me with her magazine. "Sit up. It isn't good for your back."

"'It isn't good for your back'," I mock back.

She hits me again. Sighing, she reclines into her seat. "Ever time," she mutters to herself.

So I go back to burning holes in my phone's screen. Me and my soccer team, me and Julia, me and...huh. That picture shouldn't be there, actually. So they're moved into another folder, ready for deletion.

"Y'know, two trains and a taxi is too much of a hassle for a vacation," I say openly, but nobody cares. It's still going to pull into South Aberford promptly and punctually, whether I like it or not.

My mom's words from earlier – a pleading request – bounce around in my head for a moment. Every summer, it was an easy thing to promise. And every summer, something happens that makes me have to break it.

She doesn't understand it.

The train car feels hotter now.

"Jackson." I look at Mom, who watching the outside world move around us. "Look," she whispers, her finger almost touching the plastic glass.