Page 34 of The Dare

Thinking about her as I dress actually helps, and I manage to stave off the intense need to empty my balls, knowing I have a higher purpose than just relief now.

I make my way through the train, noticing how everything literally gets more enclosed and tighter as I move from first class.

I usually travel first class, not to be an asshole about things, but because I always need more room.

A six-foot-seven guy who has to crouch for eight hours on a plane or anywhere else is never a happy one.

Trains I’m still not sure about. Never enough room on one of these for a guy my size.

But it’s brought me Natasha, so on the other hand they’re my new favorite thing.

I soon realize I don’t know exactly where I’m heading, but a few words to a passing steward, and I’m pointed in the right direction.

Not that I need many pointers.

The closer I get, the more I can hear raised voices, telling me I’ve found Natasha’s mom and best friend at last.

I stop to listen, eventually hearing Natasha’s calmer tones before I decide maybe it’s not the best moment to make myself seen.

Turning to make my way back, I overhear Natasha sounding suddenly upset, which only makes me spin on my retreating heel and head straight down to be with her.

All three are by the door closest to the approaching platform.

It’s late now, almost ten, but the station’s lit up with the train coming in at a snail’s pace. I can see people waiting outside the window.

Some eager to get on board, others waiting for loved ones to get off.

I’m moving faster than I realize, and in seconds I’m watching Natasha tell her mother again, “I don’t want to see him, okay? He’s your husband, but was never a real dad to me...”

Her last words seem to drown everything else out.

A silence only made worse by me suddenly appearing next to the group of three.

Suzanna clicks her tongue and groans to herself when she sees me.

Natasha’s mom Renee goes a deep shade of red, but Natasha herself seems glad to see me.

Her features soften, and the creased lines of anger around her eyes shift as her expression changes to one of relief.

“I said we’d all be here to see you off,” I say cheerfully. Deliberately ignoring everything I just heard and not showing I did catch the tail end of their conversation.

“I was just telling my mom I’d rather stay here on the train,” Natasha says, looking from me to her mom with an air of someone whose cavalry has arrived.

“I don’t think it’s really anyone else’s business,” Suzanna says, piping in with a raised voice as she looks up at me defiantly.

She’s a tall girl, her eyes flashing with real hate for me.

But she’s still well over a foot shorter than I am and not very frightening.

Renee seems torn, embarrassed by the whole thing.

“We could all stretch our legs, even just for ten minutes,” I offer. Feeling like a bit of relief from this sardine can couldn’t be a bad thing, but Natasha looks betrayed at the idea.

“I don’t want to see him,” she says gruffly to her mother again, defiant now, beyond just upset or emotional.

I check my watch and know for a fact the train’s scheduled to stop for a half-hour, so I lob the ball into Natasha’s court.

Shooting her a look that I hope she can decipher.