With stinging tears in her eyes, Arya made her way to her closet and pulled out her camping gear. She shoved as many pairs of pants, socks, underwear, and panties in the large navy backpack together with an inflatable sleeping pad and the bright orange sleeping bag that was rated for Arctic temperatures. She raided the refrigerator and pulled one of her mother's meat pies that she had made especially for her. She put it inside a small plastic container, took some plastic cutlery from a drawer, filled up one of her water bottles, and then went to her bedroom again where she put everything into the bag.
Being the good girl that she was, she made her bed as well as she could. She fluffed the pillows and pulled the comforter over them. She arranged the shoes that she couldn't take into the color coded order her mother liked and re-arranged the books that were scattered all over the floor onto the bookshelves above her bed. She put the large stuffed bear she had thrown at Sansa into its usual corner.
That was it. She threw on a down vest over her sweater and she placed the heavy pack on top of her shoulders. She made her way down the corridor, petted Lady on the forehead, and then closed the door behind her. She looked at her watch. She had more than enough time.
As she waited for the elevator, she tapped boot against the floor. She was tunelessly whistling an old drinking song her father sometimes sang when the door opened before her. She kept whistling until she walked out of the front door. "Where are you going, Miss Arya?" the doorman called after her.
Arya didn't bother dignifying his greeting with a reply. She merely smiled and waved goodbye.
As she headed down the busy New York street towards the subway, Arya knew that running away was the best decision she had ever made. Earlier that morning there had been a massive row over Syrio, her fencing teacher. Sansa and Catelyn thought it was pointless and a drain on the family budget. Arya thought otherwise. There was a great deal of shouting and slamming of doors on all ends. Not only that, but Catelyn had once again decided to guilt trip Arya the only way she knew. "If only you were more like your sister," the auburn haired woman had sighed.
She took the stairs into the cavernous subway and swiped her Metro card. The train heading towards Grand Central Station was empty at her Upper East Side stop, but it gradually began to fill up with stranger as it moved towards downtown. Arya lost herself in the crowd as she hid her bulky bag underneath her seat. She was no longer Arya Stark, daughter of one of the richest families, but someone else entirely.
At Grand Central Station, Arya got out quickly and made her way to the nearest ticket booth. "One ticket to Westbury, Connecticut," she told the dark-haired woman on the other side of the glass.
"Why are you going?" the woman asked eyeing Arya's backpack. "Camping season is over."
"I'm visiting my brother," Arya replied.
"I see."
At the news kiosk, Arya bought a copy of The New York Times and made her way to the platform.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jon's number.
It rang four times before a woman picked up. "Jon Snow is not available now," the woman recited automatically, "but if you would kindly leave a message after the tone."
"Yygritte. It's me."
"Arya?" Ygritte's voice rose in surprise.
"Yeah."
"Do you want to talk to Jon?"
"Yeah."
Arya heard Ygritte call Jon's name numerous times over what sounded like Motley Crue's Kickstart My Heart.
"Yeah," Jon was on the line five minutes later.
"I'm coming up," Arya began with so much as a greeting.
"Coming up?"
"I'm running away from home."
"What?"
"I can't take it anymore, Jon. I'm done with them. With all of them."
"Mother will skin you and me alive if she finds out that you left."
"That's her loss, Jon," Arya explained. "I'm not going to live on the Upper East Side anymore. I already packed everything. I'm at Grand Central Station right now."
"You can't come up here. There's no room."
"I'll sleep on the floor."
"And how are you going to support yourself? You've never worked a day in your life."
"I'll find a way."
"And what about school?"
"I'll go to Westbury Community College with you and Ygritte."
"Fine," Jon sighed. "Call me when the train pulls into the station."
Arya hung up the phone, turned it off, and shoved it into her pants' back pocket.
The train for Connecticut was pulling in. A group of passengers was making their way towards the doors while Arya waited to go in last.
"First or second class?" the conductor asked as he tore her ticket.
"First," Arya replied.
"To the right."
She walked down the narrow corridor of the train station passing businessmen who were falling asleep, women watching movies on their laptops, and children squirming in their parents' arms. Trying as hard as she could not to hit anyone with her bag, she made it to the first class compartment where she seated herself and slid the bulky backpack underneath the seat in front of her.
She took out her ipod and slipped the ear phones into her ears. She turned on "The Friday Night Lights" soundtrack and closed her eyes. She would be in Westbury in two hours, she thought, unless Catelyn went to the Mayor's Office sick with worry and demanded that every train heading out of Manhattan be stopped.
XOXO
She watched as the cement and steel jungle of New York gradually gave way to suburban houses and beautiful maple trees that were putting on their robes of red and gold. Growing up in the city, she had never really had an opportunity to see the world beyond except for the camping trips that she took with her father in the Adirondacks.
If Arya despised her mother and Sansa, she loved her father. Ned Stark, the CEO of Synergy Industries, was a tall and handsome man who was known for his plain speech and honorable behavior. While numerous other men tried to steal each other's fortunes and burned each other's buildings to the ground, Ned Stark dealt with everything in the calmest manner possible. When he had to fire someone, he always did it as the employee left for the day rather than giving him or her the news over lunch or just having the secretary leave a pink slip in their mailbox. When he went to board meetings, he always stuck to his agenda. Even when other members of the board tried to show him the way they thought the company should be run by interrupting meetings, Ned would always send them a withering glare to shut them up and then explain to them why their logic was flawed.
In Arya's eyes, her father was an admirable man and her best friend. From the moment she had learned to walk, she had always been at his side. Before Catelyn had sent her to St. Cecilia's, Ned took her to his business meetings and his various office gatherings to show her off. He had hired Syrio to teach her how to fence and he had always encouraged his younger daughter to do things her way.
He was in Shanghai as Arya's train was moving closer and closer to its destination. If he had been in Los Angeles or Minneapolis, she would have asked his advice. She couldn't do that now.
She dug into her pants' pocket and brought out her phone. There were four missed calls from Sansa and a text message from Catelyn: "Stop this nonsense now, young lady."
"I'm not coming back," Arya texted back and put the phone away.
She closed her eyes and tried to take a nap, but the conductor's voice announced that the next station was Westbury.
Arya quickly pulled out her gear and threw the pack on her back as soon as the train came stopped.
She walked down the three steps to the platform.
Her brother, Jon, walked up to her and gave her a quick hug before marching her to the car.
"You pack well," he said as they walked through an empty parking lot.
"And you've gotten fat," Arya teased.
"Ygritte does feed me well," he licked his lips.
"Must be all of those TV dinners."
"That's what Talisa cooks for Robb," Jon winked slyly as he opened the trunk of his Honda hatch back. "Ygritte knows how to cook things."
"What kind of things does she cook for you?" Arya asked once they were seated in the car.
"Anything you can imagine. Except for grilled cheese sandwiches. I can cook those on my own."
"Westbury looks nice," Arya observed as she looked at the Victorian houses and maple trees. "Mother always said that it was like one of the seven circles of hell."
"Speaking of Mother, have you talked to her yet?"
"She texted me while I was on the train."
"And?"
"I told her I wasn't coming back."
Jon pulled the car over to the nearest curb and heaved out a long sigh.
"Oh come on, Jon," Arya scolded him. "This has been coming for years now."
"You can't just run away," Jon's voice had become rather strict.
"You ran away."
"I did not run away, Arya. Mother sent me to boarding school out here and I liked it. You stalked out of the house one nice morning. There's a difference."
"I don't understand you, Jon. You told me that I could come up here. You said that you would have a place ready for me."
"Right," Jon nodded.
"And you didn't turn me away when I called from the station."
"No."
"So, why are turning into a girl right now?"
"I'm not turning into a girl."
"When you start sounding like Mother and Sansa, you most certainly are."
"You're worse than Ygritte," Jon shook his head.
They sat there for a moment on the empty street next to a white-washed house wondering what their next move would be. Arya kept staring at her reflection in the windshield. Her jaw was clenched, her brown eyes were spitting fire. There was no way she would go back to the Upper East Side.
"Look," Arya sighed. "Dad comes home tomorrow. I'll call him and we'll get this all straightened out."
"And what about Mother?" Jon asked nervously.
"She'll go along with it. He'll explain it to her. You'll see."
"And if she calls?"
"Have Ygritte answer the phone. Come on, Jon. Let's get a move on."
XOXO
Jon Snow's house in Westbury was located near downtown. From the peeling white-wash and the exposed bricks in the walls, it was clear that the place had seen much better days. There was a beaten up blue Honda Civic with numerous dents parked in the car port and a cat was marching up and down the driveway when John pulled in.
"This is where I live," Jon explained. "Come on."
As soon as Jon knocked on the door, Arya could understand why she had never been allowed to visit him after he graduated high school. The front foyer was a mess. There were amplifiers and electric guitars everywhere. Along the main staircase, the wallpaper had been torn down to make room for portrayals of wizards in starry gowns carrying rosewood wands. All of the furniture in the living room was second hand or worse. Some of the books in the mahogany book case were covered in dust and mildew. If Ygritte ever cleaned the hard wood floor, it was probably with a Swiffer duster cloth and for five minutes of her Sunday at that.
Jon left Arya's bag in the foyer and went upstairs to dress while Arya tried to make herself comfortable on one of the big leather couches. As soon as she sat down, a whoopee cushion sounded underneath her.
"Welcome," a rather rotund and auburn-haired young man said as he sat down next to her and opened up a beer. "You must be Arya."
"I am," Arya replied rather condescendingly as she watched the beer drip down the young man's beard and onto his shirt. "And you are?"
"Sam," the young man nodded. "Hasn't he ever told you about me? Jon and I were fraternity brothers together."
"Oh how can I forget?" Arya rolled her eyes. "You were the pledge who wept while he was being paddled."
"It wasn't my fault that the paddle was hard," Sam wiped the beer off with his sleeve. "You can ask Jon."
"Ask me what?" Jon said as he settled down on the other side of Arya.
"About how hard the paddle was at the initiation."
"Oh God," Jon winced. "Did you really have to go there, Sam? She's my sister."
"So? " Sam belched loudly. "I never had any sisters. I can tell her anything, can't I?"
"Don't bother with that, Tarly," a red-haired young woman wearing ripped jeans and a white T-shirt said as she settled herself down in one of the armchairs around the television. "Arya doesn't want to hear about your man breasts."
"I do not have man breasts, Ygritte," Sam protested. "I don't, Arya. I swear."
"Oh really?" Ygritte winked in his direction. "What's that story I heard about you going down to Bear Island two nights ago and mixing cake batter with them?"
"That's not true," Sam protested.
"It's on Youtube," Jon laughed.
"It is not," Sam's face turned tomato red. "I swear, Arya. It's not."
"It already has one million hits," Ygritte continued the ribbing. "Come on, Arya. I'll show you. It makes fascinating viewing."
"No," Sam protested loudly. "We are not watching that."
"Oh yes, we are," Ygritte said as she turned on the flat screen and logged on to Youtube.
"I'll be in my room," Sam rose indignantly. "You can all entertain yourselves at my expense."
Arya thought that the joke was on her, but it wasn't. There was a video of Sam Tarly standing half naked in front of a bar. A woman, one assumed it was the proprietress, brought in a large tub of cake batter. And, sure enough, Sam mixed it with his breasts and did a good job of it too.
She laughed so much she cried.
"You like it?" Ygritte turned and look at the brunette. "Do you want to see him doing magic tricks?"
"I'd rather not," Arya giggled.
"He always said he wanted to be a wizard," Jon added.
"I heard that!" Sam yelled from the upstairs.
"What's his problem?" Arya asked Ygritte later on as the two of them were setting the table for dinner.
"Sam is just an odd one," Ygritte shrugged. "He's not like your brother at all. He doesn't know anything. At all.
"What do you mean?"
"He's never been with a girl," Ygritte whispered back as her green eyes began twinkling.
"Really?"
"Yeah," the red-head nodded. "He's twenty-five years old and he's still a virgin."
"And what about that whole wizard thing?"
"He's on this website called Wizarding dot net," Jon explained as he brought out the pot roast from the oven. "His screen name is Merlin. Oh and he also has Harry Potter sheets."
"Harry Potter sheets?" That was too much for Arya. She couldn't stop herself giggling now. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," Ygritte and Jon replied in chorus.
"That's unbelievable," Arya giggled. "I can't wait to get the pictures on Facebook."
"You don't have to," Ygritte said as she brought out the sliced white bread from the kitchen. "I already did."
The three of them ate dinner and watched a Yankees game together. Sam came down from time to time to sulk on the couch. Jon's phone rang several times and an irate Catelyn was always on the other line. The first four times he handed it to Ygritte, but he couldn't do that anymore by the fifth call. He moved into the kitchen and spoke with her for half an hour in his rather, shy retiring way. When he returned to the living room, he took a long look at Arya and said, "Mother says you can stay here. She'll talk to Dad tomorrow."
A/N: Comments? Complaints? Should I continue?
