Chapter 2


Hands open and my eyes open
I just keep hoping
that your heart opens

It's not as easy as willing it all to be right
Gotta be more than hoping it's right
I wanna hear you laugh like you really mean it
Collapse into me, tired with joy

"Hands Open," Snow Patrol


The train rattled down the track, making its way from Syracuse to Albany. It was nicer than Calleigh had expected in some way. She'd never really taken a train before; she'd been on the subway trains in Atlanta, but never a real train. She stretched and looked around. Tim was tucked up in the seat across from her with his back to the window and a book balanced on his knees. She loved watching him read; he completely disappeared into a book, and it was fascinating to watch him react to what he was reading. The book was the one she'd gotten him for Christmas. She was surprised to find he was more than halfway through the very thick volume, since she knew he hadn't had much time for reading since school started.

Danny and Melissa were curled up together on a seat across the way. Melissa was knitting and reading the newspaper over Danny's shoulder. They were chatting too softly for Calleigh to hear, but it was clear that they were happy and excited. That made her smile wistfully. She sighed and looked out the window at the night rushing past.

Tim chuckled to himself and closed the book, apparently done with a chapter or something. She glanced up at the motion, and found him smiling. "Want to go to the dining car?" he asked.

"There's a dining car?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's not much like the movies, but there's usually sandwiches and soda. That sort of thing."

"Sure," she shrugged. She followed him down the aisle of the train, wobbling slightly as the train swayed. He led her through the doors separating the train cars and she shivered in the sudden coldness. Three cars later, they found themselves in the dining car.

"See," he said, smiling.

"I do see," she said, nodding. They bought sandwiches and sat down at one of the tables. "You're used to the train."

"Yeah," he said. "It's usually how I got from Syracuse to New York. I only drove when I needed to haul a bunch of stuff, like when I was moving. Otherwise, I just took the train. It was easier. I could get work done."

"That's kind of neat," she said. "There's not many trains down south anymore."

"I've noticed," he nodded. "I wanted to take the train to Memphis when Megan made me go to that damn conference, but it would have taken me something like two and a half days to get there, so she wouldn't let me."

"I can't imagine why," Calleigh said, dryly.

"It's not like I didn't have vacation time," he replied.

"True, but you would have spent twice as much time traveling as you would have spent at the conference. The flight was probably about a tenth of that,' Calleigh pointed out.

"I don't like planes," he shrugged.

"I know," she sighed.

They ate quietly for a moment. Calleigh looked out the window again. The snow was glowing in the lights of the train. It was pretty, but a little strange at the same time.

"You're ok?" Tim asked.

"Hm?" she asked, turning back. "Oh, no, I'm fine."

"Okay," he said. "You look tired."

"I am tired," she said. "You, on the other hand, look wide awake."

"I had a nap," he shrugged. She watched him tap the edge of the table with nervous energy.

"You didn't take your meds," she pointed out.

"I did," he said, shaking his head. "Just not the sleeping pill. Which Andy wants to get me off of anyway."

"But you're not sleeping without it," Calleigh said.

He shrugged. "I had a nap. And I don't sleep well when I'm not at home anyway. It's part of why I don't like to travel. And you're not asleep, either."

"No, I meant at home. The other week, when you didn't get to the drugstore to pick up the prescriptions and you were out of it. You didn't sleep that night," she reminded him.

"That was one night," he said, with a shrug. "Andy thinks I'd be fine after the rebound. He's not doing it yet, just sometime this summer."

"Ok," Calleigh said, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that it would be a bad idea. Maybe she was just thinking of how difficult it would be to share a room with an insomniac.

"We're almost there," he said. "And then we can go to bed and you can sleep."

"Good," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?" she asked, frowning.

He shrugged. "You don't seem like you're having a good time."

"Oh, no, Tim. I'm fine. It's just been a very long day. I'm tired, is all," she said, shaking her head. "I'm having a good time, really. The restaurant was great. Your parents are really good cooks. And I like your parents a lot," she assured him. "I'm just tired. And truthfully, a little overwhelmed," she admitted.

"The weather?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I knew there'd be snow, but I didn't expect…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm a bit overwhelmed too. It's been a long, long time since I saw this much snow," he admitted. "And I grew up with it, so you'd think I'd be used to it."

"The drifts are so tall," she said. "It's like they're closing in on you."

He reached across and squeezed her hand. "I know. There'll probably be less snow in Albany. A lot, still, probably, but less."

She smiled wanly at him. "Thanks," she said, glancing down at their hands. Tim rarely, if ever, touched her of his own accord. Is he doing this on purpose or…

"You're welcome," he said, letting go of her hand to take a sip of his soda.

They were quiet again. Tim watched out the window as they came up on a stop. She was soon lost in thought again.

He's not doing it on purpose. I would swear not, she thought. It's just Tim. He's dense, Calleigh. He doesn't realize what he's doing. But what if he does. He's dense, but he's not stupid…

"Our stop will be next," Tim said, suddenly, as the train pulled away from the station they'd just stopped at.

"How far is that?" she asked.

"Not too long, I don't think. Half hour at the outside," he shrugged.

"Should we go back, then?" she asked.

"Probably not a bad idea," he agreed, standing up.

"All right, then," she said, following him.

Timothy Daniel Speedle, she thought, If you don't sort yourself out soon, I may have to clobber you. That, in truth, was what was bothering her. Either decide you like me or decide you don't, but stop playing the middle. She had no idea why this was becoming so urgent to her. But her patience was really starting to wear thin.